Making Up and Moving On with Running

Dear Running,

Ok. So.

The 12 mile on Saturday morning was respectful. The speedwork session tonight was really sweet. Oh, running. I can't stay mad at you.

I needed that week off. I thought about how devastated I was at what I thought was a terrible race. I can be so hard on myself that any accomplishment gets overshadowed. I took my ridiculousness out on you, sport, and that's not fair.

I'm going to redefine the terms of our relationship, Running. I'm going to stop holding you accountable for so much of my self esteem. I'm going to find more to feel good about than just you. You're great and I couldn't imagine not being a runner at this point. However, I'm going to spend more time with karate and maybe even try biking. I can't just only run.

The biggest amendment is going to be the definition of PR. PR is no longer personal record. PR is now Progress Report. I will always aim to do better in races because it's just not in my nature to not give my best at everything. However, I will always remember where I came from and who I am in terms of my times. I'm not a natural runner or athlete. This is not a gift, this is a passion.
Progress Report will measure performance by things such as pacing, walk breaks, hydration, nutrition and pride. When I aim for a PR now, I'm going to aim to have fun, do my best, and cross the finish line strong and happy. If it's at 2:01 or 2:31, it's a finish line and it's matters.

Running, I can't promise I won't get angry or frustrated again. Thank you for letting me recover and recoup for a week and come back strong today. I'm looking forward to our adventure on Sunday and hopefully will have an easy session on Wednesday or Friday.

-L










I'm such a good blogger that I forgot what the website I used and how to login.

Breaking Up or Down with Running

Running and I got into a fight this weekend.

I'm sure we'll both get over it soon enough.

If it wasn't for the five races I'm signed up for and the five friends I'd be disappointing, I would be seriously considering breaking up with running right now.

I'm going to stay at Karate's place for a few days and let my muscles recover. And think. Think about my training, what I did wrong, or right, why running and my stomach seem to battle at the worst possible moments and what exactly a PR means. To both of us. I'm going to think about the races I've done and remember my runners high. And I'm going to wonder why I'm feeling the exact opposite of that. I'm going to talk to my heart and brain to see that they think about this whole thing. They so rarely agree that I wonder if it's worth it.

I hope running does some thinking too. About how much I care. How much I've given up and how I've changed because of him. I hope he understands that there are so many factors that go into every step of every mile. And sometimes every step is a victory in and of itself. It doesn't matter if it's a running step, a walking step or a step off of the course to breathe. Running should also maybe send a text to my stomach and my lungs to see whose brilliant idea it was to gang up on me at mile 11. Seriously, running should look into that because it was just a cruel thing they did.

I'm sure we'll both get over it soon enough. If the past 18 months have proven anything, it's that we can't stay apart for too long. We have an event in two weeks in New York.

National Running Day (belated)

Happy (belated) National Running Day!

Everything was belated yesterday as I didn't get to properly wish my best friend a Happy 27th Birthday and now just feel like a tool trying to do anything today.

I was also belated in celebration of National Running Day. I was unaware that this was a holiday, first of all, so I really couldn't plan too well. If I had known, I would have surely set my alarm, coffee maker, second alarm, tv, and third alarm to go off from 5:00-5:25 am in order to pay homage to the running gods. Had that ritual not worked out, I would have thrown a set of running gear into my car for late night affair with the dreadmill.

So, when class ended at 7:45pm and I was enviously watching runners on Kelly Drive from my traffic-ridden vantage point on the Vine Street/76 merge and the daylight slowly faded, I was feeling like the worst running worshipper ever. I should have been prepared. It felt like Thanksgiving without turkey. National Running Day and I didn't run.

I reminded myself that I was purposely unprepared because this is a rest week. Wednesday was supposed to a well-earned rest day and if running has taught me anything -- it's the value of rest. Because on Saturday I completed my fourth half marathon in less than year. That is two whole marathons, in my mathmatically-challenged opinion.

Last night, my third toenail came off and ruined my pedicure. And that was my offering to National Running Day deities. I will continue to offer my sweat (lots and lots and lots) and blood, probably some tears, frustrations and joy to the great sport of running for the next 365 days as long as it continues to reward me with calm, motivation, and not having to buy new pants every season.

I love running and will always be a bear-fearing/slow-pacing/race-loving/mid-packing mess who calls herself a runner. I restarted my running ritual this morning and went for nice and easy four mile out/back. I'm calling it nice and easy because "Proud Mary" by Tina Turner showed up on my playlist like four times. It was really muggy and slow.

This sweat isn't for you, Buddy.

Dear late=fifties/early-sixties year old-men at the gym, particularly the two who were on the treadmills in front of me from about 7:30 to 8:oo tonight.

Who in the hell do you think you're kidding? It is clear that your motives for spending time in the gym are not to get in shape, live a healthier lifestyle, loose weight, or better yourselves in any possible way. Your reasons walk back and forth between the women's locker room and the rest of the gym. Oh, you idiots think you're slick, huh? You're not. Your reasons are about as obvious as your age -- which you're also not hiding well.

How can we tell? Lets see, the fact that you don't even have the common sense to change into workout clothes after coming from whatever lowbrow life you lead is a huge giveaway. Seriously, if you're going to objectify and degrade every female who walks past, at least have the decency to put some normal jogging shorts. Cut off cargo pants, really? Work boots? Really? While you might be seeing us as some sexual link to some fantasy that is never going to happen, we're seeing you as morons in cargo shorts.

Also, increase the speed on the treadmill to a something beyond "oogle." I'm not saying you have to run because your grease-filled heart probably couldn't handle it (and all the blood is most likely rushing to another part of your body). I'm just saying at least walk at an quick pace.

Another tip for how to hide your hidden agenda and other things, look straight ahead consistently. I've seen less head turning at a tennis match. There is a baseball game on in front of you, fake that you're watching it. Mygod, isn't the ability to discreetly check out a woman the whole point of the Y chromosome?
You could at least "fake" some aspect of your workout, as judging by the way you're presenting yourself, unfortunate women have been faking it for you for years.

I respect that you brought a friend. It was a failed attempt at trying to not be a douchebag. I've found that the guys who are geniunely at the gym for their health, go it alone.

While I can't speak for all the women in the gym, I can say this: I'm not there for you, Mr. DirtBall Older Than My Dad Still Trying to Feel Something While He Can. I'm not doing the ab crunch machine so you can look down my shirt and I'm not stretching in the corner so you can stare at my ass. I'm running out stress and frustration from having to deal with your more educated counterparts in the corporate world. This sweat is for me. I'm not increasing the speed on the treadmill so I bounce more for your benefit. The girls walking past aren't putting on show, douchebags. They're trying to get to the yoga class. For some of those women you've just mentally disgraced, the hour or so at the gym is the only time they have away from SOBs like you.

No one likes being eye-f*(*ked by a man older then her father on the way to the hip abductors. I'll never complain about being checked out by one of the healthy, age-appropriate, non-tattooed, not fresh out of jail, non high school kids. Especially by the one guy I see all the time on Tuesdays in the weights area.....heeeeyyyy. Or the other taller one who comes in around 8 and plays racquetball. Holla!

Moral of this story is: If you're going to be an old man dirtball and check out girls younger than your daughters and granddaughters, wear sneakers, do some kind of fake workout and stay out of my way.

Thanks,

The girl on the treadmill behind you who flipped you off when you turned around.

PS: To the moron who ignored the seven open treadmills in front row and nine open ones in the back row and jumped on the one next to me, Is that your dad in front of us? Really, kid? It's a little overly intrusive and just plain annoying. Also, don't look at my screen. Yes, I'm going faster than you. Yes, I've been going that fast for a long time. Don't try to keep up. And if I slow down, I'm only going to get faster in 2 minutes. Again, not doing it for you.


PSS: It was apparently Douchebag Night at the gym. Dear dude who was walking around with his iPad? Need I say more? Even better, he's spotted texting on his phone while holding his iPad and sitting on a bike.

Race Recap: Rutger's Unite Half Marathon

Subtitle: When running, dating, pride, and hills come together, it hurts. :-)

So, a few months back I started dating a guy runner. Yes, I don't know what is more shocking, me actually dating someone or finding someone with the same crazy hobby. Stop laughing and just read on. On date 2 he told me about this half marathon in New Brunswick that he and all his buddies were running in April and I totally had to do it too. I was in the late stages of training for the Gasparilla 15K in Florida and was feeling pretty invincible. I added the Rutgers Unite Half Marathon to my training schedule and, more importantly, wrote it on my calendar. Once something appears on my desk calendar, oh, it's happening.

I am, apparently, the most un-call-back-able girl ever because things between guy runner and I fell apart. His loss. April hit and I flipped that calendar to see "RUTGERS" written in big red letters on April 18. Oh crap. Well, now I had to run it! First, it was on the calendar. Second, I said I would and if I didn't it would be like I didn't go because of him. And, like I'm going to stand for that. Third, I was inadvertently training for it anyway.

So, I really wanted to do but I could not under any circumstances show up at that race alone. That would be the ninja loser move of the month. I needed a running buddy. And since there was not enough time for me to get super hot and fast(and will probably never be enough time), I needed a super hot and fast friend. Enter Bonnie.

Bonnie is a wonderful friend of mine that I met through my former roommate. Bonnie was a great source of advice and inspiration during my 2009 Broad Street Run training resolution. She and I ran 2009 BSR together until mile 7. Love me some Bonnie. She does BSR every year and goes to the gym everyday. Seriously, this girl is insane fit. Like 3% body fat fit. Did I mention she has two kids? I conned Bonnie into it. It wasn't hard. Since she's already super hot and fast and in shape, I gave her all of a week's notice. Hey, I needed some sort of advantage aside from experience. This would be Bonnie's first half.

The night before the race, Bonnie lets me send runner guy who doesn't know what he's missing a friendly "good luck tomorrow" text. I get a quick "gl 2 u, have fun.'" He was never one for full words, punctuation, grammar, or rules. It would have never worked.

It was cold on race day. The spring season is always tricky in the Northeast and that weekend was chilly! I mean, chilly! Like mid-forties/fifties. But, thanks to running outside all winter, I was fine. (Foreshadowing for the 2010 Broad Street Run two weeks later were the temperature at the start of the race was already 85.) Bonnie and I had a typical race day breakfast of english muffins and peanut butter, coffee and water. Bonnie is super hot, fast, in shape and smart than me because she also got a breakfast sandwich at Dunkin' Donuts on the way up there. This will matter later.

Rutgers University opened it's campus for this race. The event itself was small with probably only 4,000-5,000 runners. The vibe at the start of the race was great though with lots of hungover, though helpful, student volunteers.

A small start means no corrals or anything like that. They say go, we go. Less than half a mile into the course, we encounter the first hill. Bonnie and I run the same pace and were having a good time talking and joking as we started out. That hill was like nothing. Mile 1, down. We saw the marker for mile one, but no timer. The course wasn't super. There were pot holes and uneven pavement. Mile 2 through 5 flew past but damn if it wasn't one hill followed by another. Now, this is New Jersey so HILL is a bit subjective. I mean a slow, gradual incline that you wouldn't notice in a car. You legs do notice though.

Sidenote: Not even done mile 1 yet and there were boys peeing on the side. How? Why? 10 minutes prior and they could have used a porta-potty like everyone else? It was less than a mile into a 13 mile race! Thing # 938849 I don't understand about men.

There were no timers along the course! Anywhere! The distance was marked well enough and water stations were always well prepared. However, when one is trying to pace themselves, those times help. A lot. It wasn't until the turn around at mile 7 when the 9 minute-mile group passed us that Bonnie and I realized we had been doing a sub 10 minute pace. For these short tree trunk legs, thats awesome. I was feeling good. It was cold but runners love the cold. (This one does at least.) Also at that turn around, we passed he-who-is-running-out-regret-from-not-calling me.

Bonnie is like the energizer bunny, she just goes. We passed through another turn around at mile 9 and I thought to myself, "this is going really quickly." Again, the 9 minute group was ahead of us and the 10 minute pace group was behind us. We have fun running together, we cheer on the people who are cheering for us. We tell hot guys that the race rules say men go shirtless at mile 11. Women at mile 14.

Around mile 10 and hill #456, my stomach so wonderfully reminded me that I had only eaten about 600 calories at 5:30 am and it was now about 10 am and it had burned 1000 calories since. As in, I was hungry. When you're running and you have nothing in your stomach, it lets you know. I started to get the "oh no-s". An Oh-No is that feeling you get right before you hurl. SOme call it nausea, but I find that too hard to spell. I stiffed the oh-nos and forced myself to keep up with Bonnie, but another hill was coming. I signaled her to go on and that hot butt just kept going like it was the first mile. I, on the other hand, spent the next two miles strategically searching for places to puke. I walked. I wanted to cry.

Imagine a car running out of gas. It sputters, it stalls, it whines. That was me.

Only, I'm not a car. I'm a runner, dammit. And a runner with a guy I dated on this course, there was no way I'd surrender. I reached deep inside and fought the oh-nos. I quit running about every 500 ft. I figured that if I puked and kept going, my hard-core runner status would skyrocket. I really did feel like I was running on E. I thought about the progress I'd made since my first half in September. I got to mile 11 without walking. this was my third half in less than a year! I could barely finish the BSR last year and now I'm coming up on mile 12 of a half marathon! Whats a little walking when you've run so far this year? Walking made me upset and sick to my stomach but running at that point only made it worse.

I heard a guy yell "You're at mile 11! Two more miles and you're under 2 hours."
WHAT? Despite being exhausted and sick, I was going to PR! (PR is runner lingo for personal record or best time ever!) Huh, imagine that. That was great encouragement for me.

Hey, Rutgers, who puts a HILL- a real hill- at mile 12? That was rude. Bad racing form, bad form. I powered up that hill. I wish I could say that. No, I staggered up the hill. And then, my friends, the finish line! The remarkable wonderful finish line that would mean I could stop running! Yay! Oh sweet finish line, I might just vomit on you with happiness. As I powered through the final sprint (I did power that time!) I noticed my time was.......2:09. Holy crap.

My first Half Marathon was 2:21. My second was 2:18 and now I just did 2:09! I smiled and waved to the cameras, crossed the line, grabbed my medal, gave the lady a hug and quickly found Bonnie. That super fast, hot, in shape, Energizer Bunny of a runner finished her FIRST half in 2:03. Incredible. SO proud.

The Oh-Nos turned to OHDearGod Get Me Out of Here really quickly. There were all kinds of festivities at the finish fine but our car was at the starting line, about a mile away. Fan-freezing-cold-tastic. Who do I see staring at my shivering but faster than last time butt? Mr. Oh, What have I done himself! By all means, don't say hi. Please.

Overall, this course was challenging because of the hills, but not laid out well. I think they tried to squeeze too much race on to too small an area. Not having timers was a big oversight. Also, one porta-potty station at mile 7 was effective but could have been done better. Everything else was well-organized and professional. Though we complained about the cold and distance on the walk back to the car, shuttles were offered and all the literature totally warned us of that. Oops.

I PR-ed but am still unhappy about my burn out. I learned to eat more the day of a race and will train with GUs or those ChompShots things for next one. I had a great time with Bonnie and really liked having a running buddy for the majority of the race. Mixing dating and running was a great motivator and distracter for me.

I'll (someday) write a post about mood swings you go through during a race. There is elation, excitement, annoyance, anger, anxiety, grief, acceptance, joy, accomplishment, pride. Stay tuned for 2010 BlueCross Broad Street Run Recap, aka my one-year Runner-Versary! :-)

Can't Win Them All

One of the other blogs I subscribe to has the tagline "I love tequilla and the treadmill equally". I love that line. And I truely an epitome of it this weekend.

I had a good time with the Not Boston Fun Run in Tyler State Park on Saturday morning. It was a very small event with maybe 50-75 runners total. I think the event planners could have marketed it a little more. Not Boston was a 2.62 mile run with mile markers every tenth of a mile to simulate or mock the epic Boston Marathon next weekend. The description for the event was "I didn't qualify for Boston." The small field really motivated me to keep up a good pace and I crossed the finish line at around 24 minutes. I was pleased~! I wanted to run more but I had promised myself a good long training run on Sunday. I was planning on taking advantage of a stay in NYC to run in the picturesque Central Park.

My best friend Ayo lives in Manhattan and I love going to visit her on random weekends. Saturday night was her last performance in her graduate program at the New School for Drama. I had to see it! I figured we'd go out for a few drinks afterward but that I'd still be able to run in the morning/late afternoon.

A few drinks turned into a few drinks too many as her very generous father insisted on getting us hammered. And I always feel trashy if a maybe CEO like her dad asks to buy me a drink and I say, "Ill take a beer." So, I broke my own rule and had bad idea reunion with my ex Gin. Gin and his friend Wine and eventually Beer. We had a great time last night. This morning was another story.

I wasn't full out can't function hungover, but I did say one or two prayers to the porcelian goddess. Running was not an option. I'm ok with that. I realize how addicted, or neurotic, I am as I was contemplating an after-dark run around the neighborhood when I got home. Now, the rational side of me knows that no harm will come from missing the training run this afternoon. It happens. I had a blast last night and certainly wasn't going to turn down free drinks! Not running today will not have a giant impact on my performance in the half marathon next weekend and I can squeeze in one or two up tempo runs this week to compensate. I know this. But I feel almost as guilty about not running today as I do when I eat peanut butter for dinner.

Had I tried to run today it would have been ugly. There was no way I was going to do the full eleven. I'd have died or puked or something even more embarrassing. I will have to admit my defeat today. But will rise super freaking early tomorrow to be ready for the next battle. Or not. It's must easier to surrender at 5am than it is at 5pm.

What I've learned from running

It’s coming up on a year since I ran my first ‘race’. It’s funny to say race considering there is no chance in hell that I’ll ever win and I’m most certainly not fast. But I guess it’s a race against yourself and your world. And the person in front of you who you have been trailing the whole time.
My New Year’s Resolution in 2009 was to train for and run the Philadelphia Broad Street 10 Miler. What a game-changer that was. In the past year, I’ve run two half marathons, a 15K (9 miles), a 5 miler and thousands of training miles. I have more running pants/shorts than jeans and far more sports bras than regular ones. I just bought my fourth pair of sneakers since starting. I can't help but reflect and smile at the great adventures and lessons this silly hobby turned passion has brought me. I think I shall share "What I've learned from running."

• You can, in fact, sweat from every pore in your body. And it doesn’t have to be hot outside to do so. And it can feel awesome and gross. Mostly gross.
• There is an option on the iPhone called “Shake to Shuffle”. Turn that off before throwing your iphone/ipod/camera/gps into the river because it won’t stop changing songs! Oh, the anger, the anger, I felt for months. Months.
• Feet are nothing but dead layers of skin just waiting to rubbed off. They say pain is weakness leaving the body. Apparently, the most popular exit is through the feet.
• No one cares if your outfit matches. I do, however, care if you don’t do the obligatory wave or nod as we pass. Yeah, you can be rocking the cute capris and tech tee but if you’re on my side of the road and don’t move or even make an effort to move, you’re just a jogger.
• Just because you run up a hill does not mean you will run down a hill. You may run on a flat surface before going up a hill and even if you turn around, it may still be a hill. However, for every downhill, there is an equal uphill. Especially in Tyler State Park. I find this whole concept to be very symbolic.
• TMI alert- Running keeps you regular and in a regular fear of about 70% of all foods.
• Not everyone understands or gets running, but everyone respects it. And, once you tell a guy you run, you will inevitably hear how fast he is or how he can run far too. It’s like an instant competition. Or if he’s not fast or can’t run far or fake it -- he’ll instead just tell you how awesome he is at some other sport. “I hate running, but I can play basketball all day.” Great, I like having good conversations with interesting people, but I'm talking to you. It's the same thing. Women will always say, “Wow, I can’t even run one mile!”
• Bears, however, really don’t care if you can run six miles in sixty minutes and that you couldn’t do that a year ago. Nope. Bears are not good motivation to run because if you are ever running at the butt crack of dawn on a foggy winter’s morning and you see something large, black, and ominous in front of you, it really does not matter if you’re faster than your friends. Because they’re not there and you’re breakfast.
• Same scenario as above, “Thriller” is a terrible song for your iPod shuffle to play.
• If you can run three miles, you can run five. Now, this is not a physical fact, there is no science to support it. It’s a mantra and it works. If you can run 3 miles, you can push it to 5. You have it in you. If you can do 5, you can do 6. Once you hit 7 miles, you can do anything. Anything. The “If/Then” theory of running will infect your life and push you do to things you never thought simply because you can run 5 miles. If I can get my ass out of bed a 5:30 am in sub zero temperature to shiver through a six mile run, I can write a 10 page paper in four hours after an 8 hour day in the office of hell. If I can run through shin splints, I can rock stilettos. If I can let strangers at a gym watch me sweat until my clothes are drenched with sweat, I can eat in a restaurant by myself. If I do, then I can.
• Over the ear headphones prevent you from looking like you’re trying to tell the guy on first to steal second on the next pitch. Small ipod shuffles that hide under your clothes prevent you from looking like you’ve been shot in the arm while trying to adjust whatever contraption is hooked onto your arm.
• From Runner’s World: “You rarely regret the runs you do. You ALWAYS regret the runs you skip.” Truth, my friends. Truth.
• “Random Shuffle” on an iphone/ipod can be either the bestmotivation/distraction/support or more painful and discouraging than getting lapped by a 70-year old. I swear my shuffle just knows when to play “Just Fine” by Mary J. That is my favorite song and gets me smiling and moving. And if I’m really not in the mood for running or cranky about something else, it will play every heart breaky country song, or that one, ONE flipping classical jazz song that I don’t even know how it got on the list. It’s like it just wants to mock me.
• Broken hearts and sports injuries heal about the same rate. They can be reoccuring, brought on by bad habits and dumb mistakes. But both serve as great, though painful, sources of motivation. And your ipod will always play the song that reminds you of that heart break at the time when you need it the most or not.