Sleepless Night

Not only will they recognize who you are, they will remind you...as many times as you need to hear it.

The other side of the wall

In my overachieving I have been contemplating running three marathons within 90 days of each other thereby qualifying for the Marathon Maniacs, an online running community. After registering for the Chicago Marathon, I browsed other marathons within the 90 day window. I settled on a September 22nd marathon in Omaha and a November 10th marathon in Madison. But I was hesitant about taking the official plunge, i.e. actually registering. Even so I mapped out the training schedule, courtesy of my Runner's World magazine and got to work. Only one tiny problem...I have been hitting a wall on my long runs. Not to mention, missing some weekly training runs and completely eliminating any cross training. On top of all of that, my eating has been unchecked and unhealthy. My "tiny" problem has turned into a huge, daunting wall. And I keep hitting the wall, over and over and over again. Mind you, I hadn't changed any of the other elements that have contributed to my poor running performance, I just keep hitting the wall, expecting different results while keeping all the same bad habits. I believe this is the definition of insanity.

My mid-August long run was a decision point for me. There was a slight chance I may have run another half marathon on that August 10th and I had decided ahead of time that if it worked out and I ran that half, I would not run Omaha because I would be behind in my Omaha training. If I didn't run that race and I completed my 18 mile training run, I would make my journey to Omaha official. Decision day came and I wasn't running the half but I still had to make it through the 18 miles. I was seemingly off to a good start when suddenly with 7 miles to go, there is was, The Wall. I was thrown back in time to my St. Louis marathon when half way through I inexplicably started hyperventilating. It was the second time this training season that this feeling has overwhelmed me and brought my run to a quick end. I gave up. I stopped my watch. I turned around. I walked back. I quit. 

Quitting is a discouraging feeling. And, I'm not ashamed to say, I cried about it. Not a lot, but the tears were there just the same. I made the decision to let Omaha go. And for that I was sad. I was sad that my training wasn't taking the shape I wanted. I was sad that I quit. I felt like I failed. Here's the thing about failing: "Failing isn't in the falling down; it's in not getting back up again." So even though my training isn't going as originally intended, I'm not staying down. I'm getting back up. I'm using a different training program, one more suited to my needs as a runner and I'm scaling that wall. Because you know what's on the other side? Possibility. Promise. And a goal worth working for. Here's to the other side of the wall. Here's to getting back up again. Cheers, friends. Here's to running. 

Finding my corner

“We have probably wondered in our many lonesome moments if there is one corner in this competitive, demanding world where it is safe to be relaxed, to expose ourselves to someone else, and to give unconditionally. It might be very small and hidden, but if this corner exists, it calls for a search through the complexities of our human relationships in order to find it.” Henri Nouwen

My #1 Guy

I ran an impromptu neighborhood 5K with my 7-year old yesterday evening. He ran the whole thing, only walking to drink water. Of course he bragged about beating me, the little stinker. He was the one said his legs were on fire! And asking me to slow down. :) 

Running with my little man was fun. We had a half an hour after registering before the run started so he, knowing his mommy so well, suggested we go to the park to go on the swings. He beat me there as well, circling the universe "infinity x infinity x infinity". I just can't win against the little guy! My favorite, however, was during the run when he was feeling tired and ready to give up, he would take my hand. Then we would run like that for a little while, hand-in-hand. My heart was full. 

And isn't that just what we need as we make our journey? Someone next to us, ready to hold our hand when we're tired, encourage us when we feel the road is too long, and be there when we cross the finish line, cheering the whole way. He may have beat me in the race, but I think I'm the one who won.  

Sweet and surprising with a twist of fun

Last race as a 33 year old. *sigh*

I stubbornly thought growing older wouldn't bother me, and in a lot of ways it hasn't. But in a lot of other ways it has. I don't like seeing those new gray hairs popping up. The lines on my face that are here for the long haul aren't much fun either. And don't get me started on being called "Ma'am" and wondering why kids that look 12 are allowed to drive. When I start using the phrase "Back in my day" I'll know it's time to throw in the towel. But until then, I run.

I'm in training for Fall events however it's nice to throw in some races to change things up a bit. My latest race was a smaller half marathon. It was a kick off to a summer festival that also included a 10K, a 5K, a kids mud run, and live music. I was a little envious of the kids mud run, I wish I could have participated in that! But, apparently, you had to be a kid to participate, not just act like one.

The atmosphere of the race reminded me a little bit about the races I've run in Ireland. Just a couple hundred people gathering in a park or on a residential street to run a race on roads that are still open to car traffic. I was worried that with only 186 people running the half, I would end up feeling stranded not having people near me. Fortunately, that was not the case, there was always a person to set my sights on or a group of people chatting away to each other about this-and-that. The race was well supported by volunteers, too, with water stops every two miles. Plus I had my fun new toy to let me know my pace and count down the miles.

Yep! I finally caved and bought a GPS watch! I had some Amazon gift cards that were enough to cover the cost which definitely helped in my decision to get one. Not being one to research what I buy, it was nice to enlist the help of a knowledgeable friend when deciding. Only problem with the GPS watch...

I know my pace with certainty. 

!!!

There's no mental math, which I appreciate, however, I only estimated when doing mental math. Because of this my estimations were typically higher than actual. This lead to being pleasantly surprised when the actual results came out. GPS watch knows for a fact what I ran my last mile in. And on a run such as this half marathon, that's not such an encouraging fact to know. 

The day was hot. And sunny. And hot. And I wore black. So I was extra hot. In my defense, it was a black tank. But still. I was hot. The course itself was pretty nice. A lot of open sun which added to how hot I felt...(Have I mentioned the heat?)...which affected how I ran. GPS was nice enough to point out that with each mile I slowed. I probably started a bit fast for my ability at that distance, but regardless, I was slow. This would not be a PR event for me. 

Midway through the race, I made a decision: Start taking off clothes. If you know me, you know what a huge decision this is. And you can probably guess that it took me all of those first 6.5 miles to work up the courage to do so. There was a moment in the race where I thought I would be okay running in my black tank. The route turned left to follow a trail. Delicious shade waited for me as I rounded the corner. Sweet relief beckoned me onward. A smile broke through my chapped, thirsty lips. Finally! A cool, pleasant trail! Then another mile went buy and the trees seemingly ran away, leaving me to bake in the sun. I thought once more about my white stomach. My countless issues with self image. The fact that there were other runners who could see me. Then I thought about the heat. I imagined the black tank absorbing that heat and holding it close to my core. And I took it off. You know what happened then? I expected the people around me to shriek in terror and dive into the tall grass. Maybe a couple of them would just drop to the ground right then and there. None of that happened. One girl did puke, but I think that had little to do with me. No, what happened was my body cooled. Just slightly. My pace continued to slow, but that brief reprieve helped me throughout the second half of the race. 

Until the last half mile. 

12.6 miles and I was done. I wanted water. I wanted to be done. Birds of prey were circling. "I'm not dead yet," I called up to them. The finish line was somewhere ahead. I kept thinking, as I looked at my watch, 5 minutes. You can run for 5 more minutes. Then there was the turn toward the home stretch...and it was packed with cars. Apparently, the one road they closed for the race was now open again and filled with those people leaving the race and those coming for the music festival. Seriously? I just wanted to be done. 

In the end, I crossed the line at 2:20:16. Not my best, but not my worst either. Not too a horrible way to close out my last race as a 33-year old. 

Since then I have turned the big 3-4. It's odd to say I'm 34 when I still feel 19. 34 greets me with new challenges. I have a teenager now, with my daughter turning 13 three weeks before my birthday. She has one more year before high school. Eek! 

I'm registered for at least one marathon. I haven't bit the bullet on the other two yet, but soon. I was just waiting to see how that training schedule pans out. 

And I have this new challenge...

That's right, folks. It's an exercise ball. An awesome birthday gift that comes with an exercise video too. It's a good total body workout that is fun and keeps me laughing. It's amazing how much this works on my stabilizers. I'm excited for the variety in my cross training and the new twist of fun this offers. And, with some commitment, I'm hoping for some more toned abs as well. 

Hello 34! Cheers to the adventures yet to come!

Well, shoot. That was supposed to be my angry run

I'm mad. 

About many things. 

Recent situations. 

Past situations that drudged themselves up again. 

Mad. 

So I went for a run because 1) I'm in training, and 2) to burn off my anger. 

Except I spent 0% of the time worrying about what I'm mad about. 

Instead...

I listened to my footsteps. 

I felt the thick, humid air. 

I watched as sweat beads formed. 

I felt my breath. Smooth. Even. Controlled. 

I felt my heart. Strong. Stable. Sure.

I glided with an easy cadence. My legs dependable. True.

I forgot about being mad.

I just ran. 

The Linearity of Life

A family friend passed away this past Wednesday. I hadn't seen him in over a year and am now left wishing I had made more of an effort to do so in this past year.

My friend also lost her band's guitarist and friend to a heart attack yesterday. She is understandably stunned and saddened.

Life is linear. It marches on without waiting. There is no backing up, no do-overs. There is only now. So if life won't wait, why would we?