One of the reasons that I chose running as my form of exercise was the idea that it was "free." It didn't require a gym membership. It didn't require special gear or expensive attire. In theory, I could just walk out my front door and go.
Which worked. For a short while.
I put on my 100% cotton yoga pants and my cheap shoes and was set. It didn't take long before I realized that I was going to have to invest more than time and energy if I was going to keep this up. My yoga pants literally came apart at the seams and had to be sewn together again. They did not breathe AT ALL, which became very apparent as the spring got warmer. My shoes were not holding up as I had hoped. If I was going to continue running longer distances, I was going to need a way to carry water on my runs, etc.
Thankfully, Rick was supportive from day one. He was proud of me for losing weight and taking control of my body. And he told me to go ahead and get what I needed to train for a marathon. Problem was, I didn't really even know what that was yet.
I tried getting advice from friends who had been running for a long time, but the problem with that was that they all had different ideas. Some people swore by certain running clothes, while others had luck with something else entirely. The only thing that stayed consistent in the advice was to try different things and see what worked for me. I feel like I spent 5 months finding the formula for a perfect run.
First thing I bought was some moisture wicking clothes. I was amazed at what a difference it made as my runs got longer. I also had started collecting a few sport shirts from the races I had already run. I invested in good shoes in June, which was ABSOLUTELY worth it. I discovered the worth of good running socks after a horrible blistering realization during the half marathon in August. I figured out that sports bras made of pure cotton were a dreadfully painful form of torture. I would chafe so bad that I would bleed along my rib cage. Not fun. I managed to run up to about 10 miles without taking water with me, but I knew that if I was to keep going longer, I was going to have to get a running belt. I toyed around with different types of fuel, Peanut butter and honey. Gatorade Chomps. Gu. Energy jelly beans. Caplytes. Gatorade. I needed music to keep my sanity...which required an mp3 player and headphones. What app should I use to keep track of my runs? etc. Eventually, I was fairly certain that I had purchased everything that I would need to be able to run the marathon.
But that was only half the battle.
We tried to break up our runs throughout the week. We practiced on the hill behind our house to prepare for the Veyo hill. We did our long runs on the more flat areas around our houses so that we would be able to handle the long flat portion of the marathon just before the half way point. We tried routes, and then tried them backward. (not running backward, just reversing the loop ;) ) And then there were the track workouts. Speed training. Stairs. Intervals. I am fairly sure that intervals were invented by a masochist. They hurt so good. They were horrible in the moment, but we felt so strong afterward. Strong, but with jelly legs, I guess. We discovered on one horrible 14 mile run what it was like if we didn't properly hydrate and "chomp up." It was a constantly humbling experience. Just when we thought it we had it all down, we would realize something else that we needed to train for or try. We trained in heat and humidity that is uncommon for our area. (the humidity, not the heat) We ran runs that started at 4:00am in 90+ degree weather. We learned which roads to avoid because of traffic or the lack of a shoulder. We realized how quickly a run could go wrong, just by eating the wrong thing the night before. (I don't know if I will ever love pizza again.) I thought it would be trial and error for a couple of weeks and then I would have it down, but it's been a constant process. I finally feel like I have a pretty good grasp of how to prepare for, run, and recover.
Which means that I will probably discover some other horrendous, torturous pit-fall sometime in the middle of the marathon.
Cross your fingers for me.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
It's not all sunrises and shooting stars...
Since the vast majority of our runs have been morning runs, we typically get to run in both dark and light. We start out under the stars, witness a sunrise, and end in the early morning light. We have seen up to a half dozen shooting stars in one run. We admire the way the sun streaks through the clouds. We've seen rainbows and full moons, and listened to the howling of the coyotes.
But it's not all sunrises and shooting stars.
Here is a list of some other things seen on our runs:
snakes
scorpions
quail
roadrunners
deer
cats
dogs
squirrels
tarantulas
frogs/toads
lizards
cows
rabbits
peacocks
skunk
mice
millipede
sheep
owls
Heather and Ryan, have I missed anything?
Some notes:
One run I saw 9 lizards in four miles.
The skunk was WAY too close for comfort. We had to literally stop in our tracks and wait until it retreated, tail pointed to the sky, into an irrigation ditch. Phew!
The deer nearly caused us to wet our pants when it startled out of the high brush in the fields one dark morning.
I literally stepped on the tiny scorpion, but he was too small to sting me through my shoe.
Both Heather and I nearly stepped on a tarantula on one long run along the marathon route.
Little field mice kept peeking out of the grass to investigate our flashlight beams.
Cats eyes look super creepy when you just catch them in the beam of your light for a second.
Ryan rescued a toad from certain death in the middle of the road.
Peacocks sound like children screaming.
A millipede looks super eerie the way it moves across the ground.
But it's not all sunrises and shooting stars.
Here is a list of some other things seen on our runs:
snakes
scorpions
quail
roadrunners
deer
cats
dogs
squirrels
tarantulas
frogs/toads
lizards
cows
rabbits
peacocks
skunk
mice
millipede
sheep
owls
Heather and Ryan, have I missed anything?
Some notes:
One run I saw 9 lizards in four miles.
The skunk was WAY too close for comfort. We had to literally stop in our tracks and wait until it retreated, tail pointed to the sky, into an irrigation ditch. Phew!
The deer nearly caused us to wet our pants when it startled out of the high brush in the fields one dark morning.
I literally stepped on the tiny scorpion, but he was too small to sting me through my shoe.
Both Heather and I nearly stepped on a tarantula on one long run along the marathon route.
Little field mice kept peeking out of the grass to investigate our flashlight beams.
Cats eyes look super creepy when you just catch them in the beam of your light for a second.
Ryan rescued a toad from certain death in the middle of the road.
Peacocks sound like children screaming.
A millipede looks super eerie the way it moves across the ground.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Sunrises.
The camera on my phone is not that great, but even with a sub-par camera, I have caught some beautiful moments on my runs. Most of these moments occur as the sun is rising. If possible, I like to time my runs so that they begin in the dark, and end just after sunrise. There is nothing like watching the world wake up, especially in the beautiful area in which I live.
One day, as Rick was looking at my phone, he commented, "Are all of your cell phone pictures taken while running?" Yep. Pretty much!
 |
| The Fields. |
 |
| Airport Hill |
 |
| the dirt road down the bluff |
 |
| overlooking the neighborhood |
 |
| sunrise over the track |
 |
| blue dawn at Pine Valley Reservoir |
 |
| More Fields |
 |
| Sunrise on the river |
 |
| the vertical rainbow over Snow Canyon on our 22 mile run |
 |
| early morning traffic over the "5" in Anaheim, California |
 |
| Tower of Terror, just after sunrise |
 |
| My last run in California while on our Disneyland trip. The sun rising over the palm trees and freeways. |
One day, as Rick was looking at my phone, he commented, "Are all of your cell phone pictures taken while running?" Yep. Pretty much!
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Breaking it down
Wake up.
Training for a marathon in the desert, in the summer, requires a lot of waking up early. Many of our runs start before 5am, simply to avoid the triple digit heat. I have never been a big fan of being awake when the clock reads 4:anything. As traumatic as it is to climb out of bed at unholy hours, that is not the type of waking up that is hardest for me. For years I had been locked in an endless cycle of stress, exhaustion, excuses, and "rewards". I was looking for a way out in all the wrong places. It was wake-up time. And much like hitting the snooze button, the waking up is not always immediate. I feel like I have woken up in stages. Some days I can see very clearly how much better my life is now that I am running. And still some days, I have a really hard time waking up. It's so much more than fumbling for your running shoes in the dark. It's realizing that change is necessary. It's drawing the connection between what you are eating and how you are feeling. It's seeing your life from a different perspective, allowing you to be aware of the things that are really dragging you down. In this sense, I am still waking up. All.The.Time.
Run.
I used to think of "run" as a definitive word. Either you were running, or you were not running. "Do or do not, there is no try." Well, sorry Yoda, but that is not the way I have found things to be. Running is truly relative. When I first started, a run for me was at a walking pace for many. It took every bit of my energy, and I was still barely more than crawling. But I didn't care. Compared to sitting in front of the computer or taking a nap, it was a sprint! Through this process, I have had to forgive myself over and over for not being as "fast" as I want to be. I saw real increases in my speed at first, when I was just going a couple of miles. But as I ventured into long runs, my pace slowed again. It used to frustrate me. But now I have learned to be OK. When someone passes me along the trail, it's alright. More power to them. Maybe that will be me someday. There is no benefit to beating yourself up over not being fast enough. Instead of spurring me onward, it made me want to give up. So as far as I'm concerned, as long as one foot keeps going in front of the other, you are running. And keep it up.
Be Awesome.
Awesome: Inspiring feelings of wonder and awe, or fear. Fear! I think that aspect of the definition of awesome is really interesting. I have harbored a lot of fear through this process. Fear of failure. Fear of injury. Fear of those dark blobs just outside of the flashlight beam. Fear of not completing the marathon. Etc. I wouldn't take those feelings back. Those fearful thoughts have helped me to work harder. The aspect of fear has made the aspects of wonder and awe that much more pronounced. If it wasn't hard, if there wasn't some part of me that wondered if I could do it after all, then the victory would not be nearly so sweet. I remember telling myself that I could just do another 20 yards and then I could walk, and when I got there, I would do another 20 yards, and then another, and when I reached the end of the trail, I felt like yelling out a victory cry. After one such run, I realized something. It had been a while since I had felt that feeling of victory. I certainly didn't feel that way after making dinner or helping with homework. Some days I had a sense of accomplishment, but not that true thrill of victory. Of doing something that I didn't think I could. This training process has brought out of me the desire to be awesome in other aspects of my life. I am no longer a spectator in my own life. I am the one out there doing it. And that's a pretty exciting place to be.
Training for a marathon in the desert, in the summer, requires a lot of waking up early. Many of our runs start before 5am, simply to avoid the triple digit heat. I have never been a big fan of being awake when the clock reads 4:anything. As traumatic as it is to climb out of bed at unholy hours, that is not the type of waking up that is hardest for me. For years I had been locked in an endless cycle of stress, exhaustion, excuses, and "rewards". I was looking for a way out in all the wrong places. It was wake-up time. And much like hitting the snooze button, the waking up is not always immediate. I feel like I have woken up in stages. Some days I can see very clearly how much better my life is now that I am running. And still some days, I have a really hard time waking up. It's so much more than fumbling for your running shoes in the dark. It's realizing that change is necessary. It's drawing the connection between what you are eating and how you are feeling. It's seeing your life from a different perspective, allowing you to be aware of the things that are really dragging you down. In this sense, I am still waking up. All.The.Time.
Run.
I used to think of "run" as a definitive word. Either you were running, or you were not running. "Do or do not, there is no try." Well, sorry Yoda, but that is not the way I have found things to be. Running is truly relative. When I first started, a run for me was at a walking pace for many. It took every bit of my energy, and I was still barely more than crawling. But I didn't care. Compared to sitting in front of the computer or taking a nap, it was a sprint! Through this process, I have had to forgive myself over and over for not being as "fast" as I want to be. I saw real increases in my speed at first, when I was just going a couple of miles. But as I ventured into long runs, my pace slowed again. It used to frustrate me. But now I have learned to be OK. When someone passes me along the trail, it's alright. More power to them. Maybe that will be me someday. There is no benefit to beating yourself up over not being fast enough. Instead of spurring me onward, it made me want to give up. So as far as I'm concerned, as long as one foot keeps going in front of the other, you are running. And keep it up.
Be Awesome.
Awesome: Inspiring feelings of wonder and awe, or fear. Fear! I think that aspect of the definition of awesome is really interesting. I have harbored a lot of fear through this process. Fear of failure. Fear of injury. Fear of those dark blobs just outside of the flashlight beam. Fear of not completing the marathon. Etc. I wouldn't take those feelings back. Those fearful thoughts have helped me to work harder. The aspect of fear has made the aspects of wonder and awe that much more pronounced. If it wasn't hard, if there wasn't some part of me that wondered if I could do it after all, then the victory would not be nearly so sweet. I remember telling myself that I could just do another 20 yards and then I could walk, and when I got there, I would do another 20 yards, and then another, and when I reached the end of the trail, I felt like yelling out a victory cry. After one such run, I realized something. It had been a while since I had felt that feeling of victory. I certainly didn't feel that way after making dinner or helping with homework. Some days I had a sense of accomplishment, but not that true thrill of victory. Of doing something that I didn't think I could. This training process has brought out of me the desire to be awesome in other aspects of my life. I am no longer a spectator in my own life. I am the one out there doing it. And that's a pretty exciting place to be.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Just a day.
As the reality of training for a marathon set in, I decided to do my research. I checked websites, running groups, and magazines. But my favorite source of information came from people. I have a few friends who have been runners for years, and I figured that their expertise was the best I could get. I got tons of advice. Everything from mp3 players to running socks, from diet to they way I tie my shoes, from water belts to playlists.
There were a few pieces of advice that contradicted each other, just depending on personal preference. When to carbo load, how long your longest run should be, etc. But there was one piece of wisdom that was imparted by several people, each in their own words. I think my friend Beka said it best. "The marathon is just a day. The real challenge is in the training."
Oh boy, was she right. Well, I guess I can't technically say that yet, since the BIG DAY hasn't come yet. But I can definitely see it. The training is what tries you. The early alarms, the adjusted diet, the tired days, the achy muscles, the strict calendar. I used to look to the marathon day with fear and dread. Now I look at it with excitement. It will be hard...that I know. But it will be the end. I will have reached my goal. It won't be the end of my running, but it will be the end of my training for a while. I know that probably doesn't make much sense to a lot of people, but if you have trained for a marathon, you KNOW what I mean!
October 5th can't get here soon enough!
There were a few pieces of advice that contradicted each other, just depending on personal preference. When to carbo load, how long your longest run should be, etc. But there was one piece of wisdom that was imparted by several people, each in their own words. I think my friend Beka said it best. "The marathon is just a day. The real challenge is in the training."
Oh boy, was she right. Well, I guess I can't technically say that yet, since the BIG DAY hasn't come yet. But I can definitely see it. The training is what tries you. The early alarms, the adjusted diet, the tired days, the achy muscles, the strict calendar. I used to look to the marathon day with fear and dread. Now I look at it with excitement. It will be hard...that I know. But it will be the end. I will have reached my goal. It won't be the end of my running, but it will be the end of my training for a while. I know that probably doesn't make much sense to a lot of people, but if you have trained for a marathon, you KNOW what I mean!
October 5th can't get here soon enough!
Saturday, August 17, 2013
It's all in your head
We've all heard it. "It's more mental than physical."
And I believed it. Before this whole process started, I believed it. But I didn't really GET it.
I get it now.
Fairly early on...when I had been running maybe 2 or 3 months...I hit a wall. Up until that point, I was out of shape enough that the whole run was "the wall." I had finally built up enough to be able to run a couple of miles without struggling. So, as I was about 2 miles into a 3 mile run, I hit a wall. I kept telling myself that I had done it up until this point, so why should it be any different now? The word that popped into my head at that moment was inertia.
Inertia.
Basically, it's the principle that an object in motion will stay in motion until other forces act upon it.
This was breakthrough moment for me. It was not an "AHA!" moment, per se. It was more of a "Stupid inertia. Inertia is bull crap. I am currently in motion, but I can't just stay in motion indefinitely. Why doesn't inertia work on humans?" And I kept struggling through every step of that 3 mile run.
After I finished my run, I kept thinking about inertia. And I thought about the forces that act upon an object in motion...most especially friction. A ball rolling through the grass will not keep going forever because the grass causes friction, slowing the momentum of the ball. Stupid friction.
Here's where the "AHA!" moment came in.
I am my own friction. I am the reason that I can't keep running. I can do this, as long as I don't allow negative thoughts to be my friction. As long as I realize that, I can break through the struggles and come out the other side, gaining momentum. I understand that on occasion, forces outside of my control will be my friction. But in that moment, I made the choice to not allow my own thoughts to be my friction.
And I have frequently thought back upon that moment. When I really needed to push through about 17 miles into my 18 mile run, I thought about intertia, and friction, and instead of walking (which EVERY part of me wanted to do), I sped up and finished that run strong!
Take that, friction!
And I believed it. Before this whole process started, I believed it. But I didn't really GET it.
I get it now.
Fairly early on...when I had been running maybe 2 or 3 months...I hit a wall. Up until that point, I was out of shape enough that the whole run was "the wall." I had finally built up enough to be able to run a couple of miles without struggling. So, as I was about 2 miles into a 3 mile run, I hit a wall. I kept telling myself that I had done it up until this point, so why should it be any different now? The word that popped into my head at that moment was inertia.
Inertia.
Basically, it's the principle that an object in motion will stay in motion until other forces act upon it.
This was breakthrough moment for me. It was not an "AHA!" moment, per se. It was more of a "Stupid inertia. Inertia is bull crap. I am currently in motion, but I can't just stay in motion indefinitely. Why doesn't inertia work on humans?" And I kept struggling through every step of that 3 mile run.
After I finished my run, I kept thinking about inertia. And I thought about the forces that act upon an object in motion...most especially friction. A ball rolling through the grass will not keep going forever because the grass causes friction, slowing the momentum of the ball. Stupid friction.
Here's where the "AHA!" moment came in.
I am my own friction. I am the reason that I can't keep running. I can do this, as long as I don't allow negative thoughts to be my friction. As long as I realize that, I can break through the struggles and come out the other side, gaining momentum. I understand that on occasion, forces outside of my control will be my friction. But in that moment, I made the choice to not allow my own thoughts to be my friction.
And I have frequently thought back upon that moment. When I really needed to push through about 17 miles into my 18 mile run, I thought about intertia, and friction, and instead of walking (which EVERY part of me wanted to do), I sped up and finished that run strong!
Take that, friction!
The Half
As part of our training, we wanted to do a half marathon. We had already run further than 13 miles, but we felt that it would be good for us to do an official run. I wanted to feel the energy of a race atmosphere. So we signed up for the Parowan Half: Yankee Meadow Run. I was really excited to do this race because it was so much downhill, and it was a drop back from the longer runs we had already started to do.
This race is in such a beautiful place. The canyon has the beauty of aspen trees as well as pine and oak. The starting line was at a picturesque reservoir,
then the race dropped into some red sandstone
before ending in the tiny town of Parowan.
I wish I could say that the half was nothing but a great experience. It was not. Was I glad we did it? Definitely. But it was TOUGH! The first couple of miles were nice, running around the reservoir. It was a little sketchy because it was a dirt road at first, but once we hit the pavement it was much better. We hit the first aid station feeling great.
We ran alongside a guy who was also from St. George and running his first half marathon. He was confident that he could do it even though his longest run was only 4 miles. We all tried to keep a straight face as he told us that he wasn't worried about 13 miles because it was downhill, so it was really only like 8 miles, right? We passed him at some point and didn't see him again.
There was also a kid of about 14 or so that kept stopping and dry heaving at the side of the road. We offered him some water, but he wouldn't take it. I sure hope he ended up OK.
About then the downhill got a little crazy. We had run downhill before, but this was aggressively downhill. It was so steep that every time I would take a step, I could feel my foot slide all the way forward in my shoe, and then do it all over again the next step. We hit the mile 6 aid station, and I thought I had something in my shoe. I stopped and checked, but couldn't see anything, so I kept going. Shortly afterward, we hit the half-way point, where I decided to see if there was actually something in my sock. When I pulled back my sock, I saw a blister almost the size of my heel. Oh crap. I had never had a blister, even at the very beginning of my running process. And here I was, half way through my race, with a monster of a blister that I would have to finish the race with. Dang. But I pulled my sock and shoe back on and headed on down the road. By mile 7 I realized that I had a matching blister buddy on my other foot. Fanflippintastic.
But the fun did not end there. We reached the bottom of the canyon portion of the run and turned a corner. Suddenly we were in open, blistering sun. We were not used to training in exposed sun like that. Most of the time we would see the sun while it was rising, and not much beyond that. I felt my energy draining fast. I got a little boost from a well-placed aid station. Then there was a most angelic Parowan citizen who stood in front of his house, with his garden hose pulled to it's limit, spraying the runners as they went past. I could have kissed his 80 year old face.
The good news was, even with my blisters and the sunshine, we were ahead of pace. So we just kept going.
If I were in charge of a race (which I am sure I never will be); but if I were, I would do everything in my power to make sure that the finish line is placed in such a way that you do NOT pass it with 3 miles left to go. It is pure torture to have to pass the finish line, then make a loop back up to the finish line. Especially if that loop takes you slightly downhill, leaving you with a slight uphill back to the finish line.
Also, if I ever run a half marathon, and I get to the finish line with extra energy, and I decide it would be a good idea to run back up the race course "encouraging" the runners still on the course, just do me a favor, and SHOOT ME! Because that is SO ANNOYING!
Truth be told, I really struggled those last 3 miles. I wanted so bad to keep up the pace, but I just ran out of energy. I walked in short spurts, then would run again, but I felt that at that point, my running pace was hardly any faster than my walking pace. When we finally got to that last turn, where we could see the finish line and hear the announcer and the cheering, I was finally able to keep my feet going. It was a great feeling to cross that finish line. Probably because it hadn't been a cakewalk run, it felt even better than it would have. I always feel this feeling of elation after I have done something hard. Since that race I have run 16, 17, 18, and 22 mile runs and finished feeling better than I did at that race. But I still have such a great feeling when I think of that half...finished in 2 hours and 20 minutes with two GIANT blisters on my feet and not an ounce of energy left.
Rick's work was a sponsor for the race, and paid for my entry. Several other employees and spouses ran the race as well. We all got together at the finish line for a little company picture.
Ryan and Heather are the greatest running partners ever.
Ryan had been through a horribly traumatizing week, and yet she was there to complete that run with some serious grit. Heather is all positivity and encouragement. I am lucky to have them to go through this process with. And I can't wait to run the marathon with them. We are going to be awesome!
And I tell you what. I have redemption on my mind. I will definitely be running that race again next year. And I will kill my time. And I will cross that finish line blister-free and smiling! If it kills me.
This race is in such a beautiful place. The canyon has the beauty of aspen trees as well as pine and oak. The starting line was at a picturesque reservoir,
then the race dropped into some red sandstone
before ending in the tiny town of Parowan.
I wish I could say that the half was nothing but a great experience. It was not. Was I glad we did it? Definitely. But it was TOUGH! The first couple of miles were nice, running around the reservoir. It was a little sketchy because it was a dirt road at first, but once we hit the pavement it was much better. We hit the first aid station feeling great.
We ran alongside a guy who was also from St. George and running his first half marathon. He was confident that he could do it even though his longest run was only 4 miles. We all tried to keep a straight face as he told us that he wasn't worried about 13 miles because it was downhill, so it was really only like 8 miles, right? We passed him at some point and didn't see him again.
There was also a kid of about 14 or so that kept stopping and dry heaving at the side of the road. We offered him some water, but he wouldn't take it. I sure hope he ended up OK.
About then the downhill got a little crazy. We had run downhill before, but this was aggressively downhill. It was so steep that every time I would take a step, I could feel my foot slide all the way forward in my shoe, and then do it all over again the next step. We hit the mile 6 aid station, and I thought I had something in my shoe. I stopped and checked, but couldn't see anything, so I kept going. Shortly afterward, we hit the half-way point, where I decided to see if there was actually something in my sock. When I pulled back my sock, I saw a blister almost the size of my heel. Oh crap. I had never had a blister, even at the very beginning of my running process. And here I was, half way through my race, with a monster of a blister that I would have to finish the race with. Dang. But I pulled my sock and shoe back on and headed on down the road. By mile 7 I realized that I had a matching blister buddy on my other foot. Fanflippintastic.
But the fun did not end there. We reached the bottom of the canyon portion of the run and turned a corner. Suddenly we were in open, blistering sun. We were not used to training in exposed sun like that. Most of the time we would see the sun while it was rising, and not much beyond that. I felt my energy draining fast. I got a little boost from a well-placed aid station. Then there was a most angelic Parowan citizen who stood in front of his house, with his garden hose pulled to it's limit, spraying the runners as they went past. I could have kissed his 80 year old face.
The good news was, even with my blisters and the sunshine, we were ahead of pace. So we just kept going.
If I were in charge of a race (which I am sure I never will be); but if I were, I would do everything in my power to make sure that the finish line is placed in such a way that you do NOT pass it with 3 miles left to go. It is pure torture to have to pass the finish line, then make a loop back up to the finish line. Especially if that loop takes you slightly downhill, leaving you with a slight uphill back to the finish line.
Also, if I ever run a half marathon, and I get to the finish line with extra energy, and I decide it would be a good idea to run back up the race course "encouraging" the runners still on the course, just do me a favor, and SHOOT ME! Because that is SO ANNOYING!
Truth be told, I really struggled those last 3 miles. I wanted so bad to keep up the pace, but I just ran out of energy. I walked in short spurts, then would run again, but I felt that at that point, my running pace was hardly any faster than my walking pace. When we finally got to that last turn, where we could see the finish line and hear the announcer and the cheering, I was finally able to keep my feet going. It was a great feeling to cross that finish line. Probably because it hadn't been a cakewalk run, it felt even better than it would have. I always feel this feeling of elation after I have done something hard. Since that race I have run 16, 17, 18, and 22 mile runs and finished feeling better than I did at that race. But I still have such a great feeling when I think of that half...finished in 2 hours and 20 minutes with two GIANT blisters on my feet and not an ounce of energy left.
Rick's work was a sponsor for the race, and paid for my entry. Several other employees and spouses ran the race as well. We all got together at the finish line for a little company picture.
Ryan and Heather are the greatest running partners ever.
Ryan had been through a horribly traumatizing week, and yet she was there to complete that run with some serious grit. Heather is all positivity and encouragement. I am lucky to have them to go through this process with. And I can't wait to run the marathon with them. We are going to be awesome!
And I tell you what. I have redemption on my mind. I will definitely be running that race again next year. And I will kill my time. And I will cross that finish line blister-free and smiling! If it kills me.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
I run like a gazelle.
It occurred to me about 16 miles into our 18 mile run. I run like a gazelle. It's true. If you look it up, and find out what a gazelle looks like while running, and compare it to a video of me running, you may not quite see the resemblance. I identify with the gazelle in a completely different way.
I am that gazelle. The one who is just slightly behind the group. The one who the lion would zero in on and cut off from the herd. The one who would be taken down by the predator.
It's OK. I'm good with it. I feel good about being able to keep up with my running mates, even if it's just barely at times. And considering we are pretty far from the savannah, I'm fairly certain that there are no lions running loose around here. I may be that gazelle, but I'm a gazelle nevertheless.
Friday, July 26, 2013
New Shoes
I was a cynic, I will admit. When people told me that having good running shoes made all the difference, I was not convinced. I thought that they had all been duped by the salesmanship of the Running Store. When I started running, I went to the sporting goods store, and bought the cheapest shoes I could find. 20$. I figured why spend a lot of money on something that I wasn't sure that I would keep using anyway. But after a few months of running, and still fighting knee pain, I decided that I might need something new. The final straw was when I looked at the bottoms of my shoes and realized that the tread had been worn completely off in places. I took advice and went to the Running Store ready to bite the bullet and drop 100$ on a pair of shoes. Shopping for shoes at a dedicated running store is quite the process. The guy that was helping me looked at my old shoes to see what my wear patterns were. He had me stand barefoot to see how my feet turned into the floor. When we were ready to start trying things on, he had me wear two different types of shoe at the same time, so that I could tell which one I liked better. He had me go outside and run up and down the shopping center sidewalk so that I could get a good feel for them. He told me to describe what I did or did not like about the shoe. I found myself identifying myself as a rookie with statements like "It makes my foot too squishy." But in the end, the system worked. I wore one shoe for several rounds of face offs and it won every time. Until the final round, when I tried on a Nike shoe. Before I had even finished tying the laces, I could feel the difference. I loved how it felt on my foot. It was breathable without being too roomy. And I was excited to see how it felt when I ran. And while I was outside testing the shoes out, a nice lady gave me a coupon for 15$ off that she was not going to use. 85$ later, I walked out with my beloved new shoes. Within a week of runs, my knee pain was all but gone. And it has not returned.
Thank-you, Nike shoes, I am now a believer. The shoes really DO make all the difference!
Thank-you, Nike shoes, I am now a believer. The shoes really DO make all the difference!
The 14 miles that almost killed me.
Coming off of my runs with Rachael, I think I got a little over confident. I had a little bit of that feeling that I had after giving birth. That "I am the queen of awesomeness and I can do anything!!!!" feeling.
Pride cometh before the fall.
Our 14 miles was my fall. If I remember right, it was supposed to be a 15 miler. We had it mapped out, but ended up taking a short cut and making it just 14.2-ish. I know I probably could have made it the full 15, but it just might have killed me.
Looking back, there were a few factors contributing to that run sucking so much. It had finally gotten truly hot. So even though we started the run early, it was already hot. Consequently, I sweat a lot. We ran a loop that included a Maverik, where we stopped to refill our waters. I had gatorade in two of my little bottles, and it was already gone, but I didn't think I would need anymore, so I didn't buy a gatorade at Maverik. I was soon regretting it. We had a hill right after Maverik, and I seriously struggled while climbing it. It wasn't that I was in my own head and didn't think I could do it. In fact, I was thinking, "I can do this. Why won't my legs listen to me right now?" I was just so weak.
Heather and Ryan were doing their best to be supportive, but they were struggling off and on themselves. Sometimes the words of encouragement really boost me. And other times I just need to put my head down and pretend I am alone. I remember one run where I was struggling on a steady uphill, and Heather said, "There's only 5 more telephone poles until it evens out." And I nearly punched her. It's funny because another time that very sentence would have given me just the boost I needed.
Those 14 miles humbled me again. They reminded me that while I had come a long way, I still had a long way to go. I needed to swallow my pride when it came to refueling and "chomping up." ("chomping up is our term for taking a minute to get some energy in us. In the beginning, this came in the form of Gatorade's CHOMPS, hence the term "chomping up.")
From that point on, I gave those long runs the respect they deserved. I made sure I had all the energy and fuel I needed. I made rest and hydration a priority the night before the run. I listened to my gut, and listened to my body. It wasn't the last crummy run I've had, but I am glad that I had that eye opening craptastic run to make me more cautious and aware. I'm not letting a run catch me by surprise again!
Pride cometh before the fall.
Our 14 miles was my fall. If I remember right, it was supposed to be a 15 miler. We had it mapped out, but ended up taking a short cut and making it just 14.2-ish. I know I probably could have made it the full 15, but it just might have killed me.
Looking back, there were a few factors contributing to that run sucking so much. It had finally gotten truly hot. So even though we started the run early, it was already hot. Consequently, I sweat a lot. We ran a loop that included a Maverik, where we stopped to refill our waters. I had gatorade in two of my little bottles, and it was already gone, but I didn't think I would need anymore, so I didn't buy a gatorade at Maverik. I was soon regretting it. We had a hill right after Maverik, and I seriously struggled while climbing it. It wasn't that I was in my own head and didn't think I could do it. In fact, I was thinking, "I can do this. Why won't my legs listen to me right now?" I was just so weak.
Heather and Ryan were doing their best to be supportive, but they were struggling off and on themselves. Sometimes the words of encouragement really boost me. And other times I just need to put my head down and pretend I am alone. I remember one run where I was struggling on a steady uphill, and Heather said, "There's only 5 more telephone poles until it evens out." And I nearly punched her. It's funny because another time that very sentence would have given me just the boost I needed.
Those 14 miles humbled me again. They reminded me that while I had come a long way, I still had a long way to go. I needed to swallow my pride when it came to refueling and "chomping up." ("chomping up is our term for taking a minute to get some energy in us. In the beginning, this came in the form of Gatorade's CHOMPS, hence the term "chomping up.")
From that point on, I gave those long runs the respect they deserved. I made sure I had all the energy and fuel I needed. I made rest and hydration a priority the night before the run. I listened to my gut, and listened to my body. It wasn't the last crummy run I've had, but I am glad that I had that eye opening craptastic run to make me more cautious and aware. I'm not letting a run catch me by surprise again!
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Running With Rachael
Running with Rachael.
It seems like it should be a class you sign up for at the gym. Or a web mini-series or something. I picture a whole group of girls, cheery and excited about running... their ponytails swishing as they jog down the road, with Rachael at the head, periodically turning around and running backward, totally keeping pace while spouting words of running wisdom. Trust me, it's going to be a thing.
Rachael was my roommate for a brief period while Rick and I were dating. She had been a close friend before that, and has been a close friend since. Rachael has always been an inspiration to me. She faces life head-on, with a perkiness that would be annoying if she wasn't so darn lovable. She is Amelia Bedelia in the flesh, and life was never dull with Rachael around. One time Rachael decided that she wanted to learn to sing. So she signed up for voice lessons and didn't give up, and now she is a beautiful singer. She proved herself in a highly successful family by fighting her way through law school and becoming a pretty darn good lawyer. (should I ever need those services, I would totally go to her!) She is a talented and witty writer, a genuinely good person, and a loyal friend. While Rachael and I were roommates, she decided that she wanted to get herself into shape and so she started running. To be honest, I think we all thought that it would fizzle out in a few days. But it didn't. Morning after morning, Rachael would hit the trail and we would see her return all red-faced and sweaty and awesome. As it turns out, Rachael is a pretty darn amazing runner. She has run several marathons, relays, halfs, and most recently an ultra-marathon. See, I told you she was awesome!
When Rachael was in town in June, she texted me begging to join me on a long run. I couldn't fathom why she would want to run with me, considering that she was a MUCH faster runner than I am, and I would just be holding her back. But she assured me that she just wanted to be able to spend some time with me, and going on a long run seemed like the perfect time. So we set up a plan and a time. At that point, my longest run was a 9-miler that I had run alone. Rachael suggested that we do 12 miles, and the thought terrified me, but I was too proud to tell her that, so I agreed.
We ran the bottom part of the marathon course. I was anxious about the distance. I was anxious about the downhill course. I was anxious about running with someone who was clearly more cut out for it than I was. It was a great run. I was able to run nearly all of it, with only a little pain in my knee. I was so proud of myself for completing a distance that had seemed so out of reach only a couple of months before.
Which is why when we were retrieving our car at the start line, and Rachael suggested that we run again the next weekend, only doing a distance of 13.2 miles this time, I readily agreed. (Rachael couldn't just settle for a half marathon distance, she wanted me to complete MORE than a half marathon distance, so we ran 13.2 miles). Our second run together was even better than our first. I was hoping to complete the 13.2 in less than 2 and a half hours, and we beat that time by about 5 minutes! At the finish line, which was her parents house, she had her mom take some pictures of us together, and insisted on laying on the ground, pretending that I had beaten her to the ground. (you see what I mean about being a loyal friend?)
Those runs with Rachael were another breakthrough in this process. I felt that crossing that line into double digits, even so far as a half marathon had turned me into a real runner. And I found that running long distances was fun. Really fun. Truly fun.
So thanks, Rachael, for coaching me through the tough spots, and for making me believe I was awesome, even though I am totally less awesome than you are! And you totally look better after 13 miles than I do!
It seems like it should be a class you sign up for at the gym. Or a web mini-series or something. I picture a whole group of girls, cheery and excited about running... their ponytails swishing as they jog down the road, with Rachael at the head, periodically turning around and running backward, totally keeping pace while spouting words of running wisdom. Trust me, it's going to be a thing.
Rachael was my roommate for a brief period while Rick and I were dating. She had been a close friend before that, and has been a close friend since. Rachael has always been an inspiration to me. She faces life head-on, with a perkiness that would be annoying if she wasn't so darn lovable. She is Amelia Bedelia in the flesh, and life was never dull with Rachael around. One time Rachael decided that she wanted to learn to sing. So she signed up for voice lessons and didn't give up, and now she is a beautiful singer. She proved herself in a highly successful family by fighting her way through law school and becoming a pretty darn good lawyer. (should I ever need those services, I would totally go to her!) She is a talented and witty writer, a genuinely good person, and a loyal friend. While Rachael and I were roommates, she decided that she wanted to get herself into shape and so she started running. To be honest, I think we all thought that it would fizzle out in a few days. But it didn't. Morning after morning, Rachael would hit the trail and we would see her return all red-faced and sweaty and awesome. As it turns out, Rachael is a pretty darn amazing runner. She has run several marathons, relays, halfs, and most recently an ultra-marathon. See, I told you she was awesome!
When Rachael was in town in June, she texted me begging to join me on a long run. I couldn't fathom why she would want to run with me, considering that she was a MUCH faster runner than I am, and I would just be holding her back. But she assured me that she just wanted to be able to spend some time with me, and going on a long run seemed like the perfect time. So we set up a plan and a time. At that point, my longest run was a 9-miler that I had run alone. Rachael suggested that we do 12 miles, and the thought terrified me, but I was too proud to tell her that, so I agreed.
We ran the bottom part of the marathon course. I was anxious about the distance. I was anxious about the downhill course. I was anxious about running with someone who was clearly more cut out for it than I was. It was a great run. I was able to run nearly all of it, with only a little pain in my knee. I was so proud of myself for completing a distance that had seemed so out of reach only a couple of months before.
Which is why when we were retrieving our car at the start line, and Rachael suggested that we run again the next weekend, only doing a distance of 13.2 miles this time, I readily agreed. (Rachael couldn't just settle for a half marathon distance, she wanted me to complete MORE than a half marathon distance, so we ran 13.2 miles). Our second run together was even better than our first. I was hoping to complete the 13.2 in less than 2 and a half hours, and we beat that time by about 5 minutes! At the finish line, which was her parents house, she had her mom take some pictures of us together, and insisted on laying on the ground, pretending that I had beaten her to the ground. (you see what I mean about being a loyal friend?)
Those runs with Rachael were another breakthrough in this process. I felt that crossing that line into double digits, even so far as a half marathon had turned me into a real runner. And I found that running long distances was fun. Really fun. Truly fun.
So thanks, Rachael, for coaching me through the tough spots, and for making me believe I was awesome, even though I am totally less awesome than you are! And you totally look better after 13 miles than I do!
Thursday, June 20, 2013
500 Miles
We moved into our new house on the eve of New Years Eve. New house. New neighborhood. New friends. New year. New goals.
I have never been much of a New Year's Resolution type girl. I figure that if we are trying to become better people, it should be year round, right? But with all the changes in my life at the time, I couldn't help but make some promises to myself. All along in this process, my goal has been to become more healthy. My goal was not to lose weight. It was not to win races or get medals. It was to feel better. Plain and simple. I wanted my life back. But I spent enough time with myself to realize that without a specific goal in mind, I might not come through for myself.
I have a friend Kim. She was never a runner either. In fact, she openly disliked running. Nevertheless, in 2012, she had given herself the goal to run 500 miles. That's just over 9 miles a week. That seemed excessive to me, so I lowered my goal to a mere 300 miles, or just under 6 miles a week. This was a goal that I never spoke out loud. I am not even sure if I ever wrote it down. I calculated it out and kept that number in the back of my head. I ran 13.88 miles in January. My average pace was about 14 minutes a mile. I was no where near on schedule for my 300 miles, but that was only because it was so cold that month. I would have run more miles if it was warmer.
You see where we were again? Excuses!
I spent much of February in the same place. I felt that I couldn't do certain things. I couldn't do hills. It was too hard on my knees. I couldn't do long runs because I had to fit my runs in on the mornings that Cru was in school. But after not seeing a whole lot of improvement, I knew I was going to have to push myself some more. I started Saturday morning runs. I was proud of myself the first time I did the 5K distance without walking once. I was proud of myself when I pushed myself to 4 miles. And I was content to stay there. I was NOT going to be one of those people who felt the need to run 10 miles at once. That was just crazy. I figured that if I kept up on a couple of mid-week runs and a 3-4 mile run on the weekend, then I would be on schedule for my goal, and doing great (and I would have been doing great. I want to make it clear that I don't think there is anything wrong with having a regular running schedule that does not require you to push further each week.) And I was DEFINITELY not one of those crazy people who started running and suddenly thought they were up for a marathon. Those people are NUTS!
I signed myself up for a 5K in May, and told myself that I would train to run a 5K faster, instead of training to run further. I would run500 300 miles. And that was good enough for me.
I have never been much of a New Year's Resolution type girl. I figure that if we are trying to become better people, it should be year round, right? But with all the changes in my life at the time, I couldn't help but make some promises to myself. All along in this process, my goal has been to become more healthy. My goal was not to lose weight. It was not to win races or get medals. It was to feel better. Plain and simple. I wanted my life back. But I spent enough time with myself to realize that without a specific goal in mind, I might not come through for myself.
I have a friend Kim. She was never a runner either. In fact, she openly disliked running. Nevertheless, in 2012, she had given herself the goal to run 500 miles. That's just over 9 miles a week. That seemed excessive to me, so I lowered my goal to a mere 300 miles, or just under 6 miles a week. This was a goal that I never spoke out loud. I am not even sure if I ever wrote it down. I calculated it out and kept that number in the back of my head. I ran 13.88 miles in January. My average pace was about 14 minutes a mile. I was no where near on schedule for my 300 miles, but that was only because it was so cold that month. I would have run more miles if it was warmer.
You see where we were again? Excuses!
I spent much of February in the same place. I felt that I couldn't do certain things. I couldn't do hills. It was too hard on my knees. I couldn't do long runs because I had to fit my runs in on the mornings that Cru was in school. But after not seeing a whole lot of improvement, I knew I was going to have to push myself some more. I started Saturday morning runs. I was proud of myself the first time I did the 5K distance without walking once. I was proud of myself when I pushed myself to 4 miles. And I was content to stay there. I was NOT going to be one of those people who felt the need to run 10 miles at once. That was just crazy. I figured that if I kept up on a couple of mid-week runs and a 3-4 mile run on the weekend, then I would be on schedule for my goal, and doing great (and I would have been doing great. I want to make it clear that I don't think there is anything wrong with having a regular running schedule that does not require you to push further each week.) And I was DEFINITELY not one of those crazy people who started running and suddenly thought they were up for a marathon. Those people are NUTS!
I signed myself up for a 5K in May, and told myself that I would train to run a 5K faster, instead of training to run further. I would run
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Couch to 5K
After feeling the positive effects of drinking more water and less soda, I was ready to take on some exercise. I had made resolutions before to start an exercise program. They had all failed for different reasons. I started too much too soon. I had a hard time finding a consistent time. The gym was too expensive. My kids were too little to go to day care. The Wii fit had some great features, but it wasn't enough to really get my heart rate going. Tai Bo was intense, but got annoying fast.
And I couldn't run. I had hurt my knee playing volleyball in high school, and every time I would try to run, my knee would give me trouble. So, you see, I couldn't run.
I was venting my frustrations on this to my sister-in-law Heather. She told me about a running program she had used that was designed to ease you into activity without burning you out, turning you off, or becoming injured. She sent me the link to the Couch to 5K program, and I decided to give it a shot. I was interested in running the Color Me Rad 5K that was being held in November, which gave me about 8 weeks to complete the program and be ready. So I went out and bought the cheapest pair of running shoes I could find. I think part of me thought that I wouldn't stick with it, so I might as well save the money, right?
The first workout nearly killed me. I was shocked at how running in such short spurts could wear me down so quickly. The second workout was better, but not by much. The third workout was tolerable. Each week I would look at what I had to do for the next week, and each week I thought "I can't do that! Run for 5 straight minutes? You have got to be kidding me!" And every week I surprised myself. Soon I was running just under 2 miles without having to walk. I still wasn't fast, but I was doing it.
And then my knee started to hurt. It wouldn't hurt too bad during the run...it would wait until after. It would swell up and I would hardly be able to walk. One night my knee seized up, and I couldn't even straighten my leg. I was in tears. I ended up going to the doctor, where I was told that I had tendonitis in my knee and that I needed to stop running for a couple of weeks to let it heal. I was discouraged. I had just begun to relish my running time. It was the only time I had truly to myself. The only time that I could be in my own head without kids whining or crying or asking questions. And if I took two weeks off, I would not be ready for the 5K in November. Still, I didn't want to hurt myself any worse, so I spent nearly 3 weeks healing. I had to let go of the idea of running the entire 5K, but I figured it was better than quitting altogether.
I resumed running, and was able to monitor my knee injury. It was slower going than I would have liked, but I was still going. When I went to pick up my packet the night before the race, I learned that I could sign a kid up for only 10$. I decided that Seth would love to do it with me, so I signed him up. Without having the pressure to run the whole 3 miles, I was excited to do something special with just Seth and I.
We had a blast. It was so fun to feed off the feeling of being in a race. I was struck by how there were so many different types of people at that race. There were plenty of the type of people who I would have expected. 0% body fat. Six minute miles. The eye of the tiger. But there were plenty who were like me. Struggling to get into shape. Looking to find the fun in exercise. Seth and I had a great time. We spent the race moving from color station to color station. Seth struggled with running at first, and preferred to walk, but he soon discovered that he covered ground much more quickly at a run! We finished in around 45 minutes.
After the 5K, part of me felt like I had ticked the running box, and I didn't need to keep running. Combine this with the fact that our house was being built, we were packing to move, and the fact that it was Christmastime, and I was stressed beyond belief. I didn't spend a lot of time in my running shoes for those couple of months.
And one day, I was surprised to realize... I. missed. running.
I had officially turned a corner. Not only could I run, but I wanted to.
And I couldn't run. I had hurt my knee playing volleyball in high school, and every time I would try to run, my knee would give me trouble. So, you see, I couldn't run.
I was venting my frustrations on this to my sister-in-law Heather. She told me about a running program she had used that was designed to ease you into activity without burning you out, turning you off, or becoming injured. She sent me the link to the Couch to 5K program, and I decided to give it a shot. I was interested in running the Color Me Rad 5K that was being held in November, which gave me about 8 weeks to complete the program and be ready. So I went out and bought the cheapest pair of running shoes I could find. I think part of me thought that I wouldn't stick with it, so I might as well save the money, right?
The first workout nearly killed me. I was shocked at how running in such short spurts could wear me down so quickly. The second workout was better, but not by much. The third workout was tolerable. Each week I would look at what I had to do for the next week, and each week I thought "I can't do that! Run for 5 straight minutes? You have got to be kidding me!" And every week I surprised myself. Soon I was running just under 2 miles without having to walk. I still wasn't fast, but I was doing it.
And then my knee started to hurt. It wouldn't hurt too bad during the run...it would wait until after. It would swell up and I would hardly be able to walk. One night my knee seized up, and I couldn't even straighten my leg. I was in tears. I ended up going to the doctor, where I was told that I had tendonitis in my knee and that I needed to stop running for a couple of weeks to let it heal. I was discouraged. I had just begun to relish my running time. It was the only time I had truly to myself. The only time that I could be in my own head without kids whining or crying or asking questions. And if I took two weeks off, I would not be ready for the 5K in November. Still, I didn't want to hurt myself any worse, so I spent nearly 3 weeks healing. I had to let go of the idea of running the entire 5K, but I figured it was better than quitting altogether.
I resumed running, and was able to monitor my knee injury. It was slower going than I would have liked, but I was still going. When I went to pick up my packet the night before the race, I learned that I could sign a kid up for only 10$. I decided that Seth would love to do it with me, so I signed him up. Without having the pressure to run the whole 3 miles, I was excited to do something special with just Seth and I.
We had a blast. It was so fun to feed off the feeling of being in a race. I was struck by how there were so many different types of people at that race. There were plenty of the type of people who I would have expected. 0% body fat. Six minute miles. The eye of the tiger. But there were plenty who were like me. Struggling to get into shape. Looking to find the fun in exercise. Seth and I had a great time. We spent the race moving from color station to color station. Seth struggled with running at first, and preferred to walk, but he soon discovered that he covered ground much more quickly at a run! We finished in around 45 minutes.
After the 5K, part of me felt like I had ticked the running box, and I didn't need to keep running. Combine this with the fact that our house was being built, we were packing to move, and the fact that it was Christmastime, and I was stressed beyond belief. I didn't spend a lot of time in my running shoes for those couple of months.
And one day, I was surprised to realize... I. missed. running.
I had officially turned a corner. Not only could I run, but I wanted to.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
How I got here.
It was summer 2012, and I was asking myself some tough questions, and having a hard time coming to terms with the answers.
There were a few things I knew.
I had gained nearly 60 pounds since the birth of my 4th child, who was now 3.
I felt awful physically.
My body ached all the time.
My joints were a problem every hour of every day.
I had no energy and more things on my to-do list than ever.
I was running on empty all the time.
I was addicted to soda. Not in the typical sense of being addicted to the caffeine. I actually had no problem waking up in the morning. I didn't need soda to keep me awake. I needed it to keep me happy. (or so I thought). My Pepsi habit had gone from drinking a can every so often, to drinking a can everyday, then two cans, then gas station big cups with refills. It was horrible.
I felt awful emotionally. I was disappointed in myself. I felt hopeless.
And I was angry. I felt like I hadn't changed anything in my life other than the increase in soda, so why was I gaining weight so fast?
Clearly I needed a change.
So what did I do? I went to the doctor. I sought out the simple solution. I was just sure that he would say to me, "Your thyroid is off, let me give you this medication, and suddenly you will lose 70 pounds and be happy again!"
But guess what?
My thyroid was not off. I was.
It was a tough pill to swallow. There was no easy solution. I was going to have to work. Dang it!
I have never been a dieter. I have seen friends and loved ones yo-yo back and forth on diets, without actually changing much else about their daily life. So a diet program was kind of out for me. But there were things I could change about my diet. That I knew. So I started simple. No more soda.
I had my last Pepsi on July 28, 2012. I stopped buying the 12 packs. I stopped making pit stops at gas stations. I stopped telling myself that I deserved a Pepsi because of all the stuff I had to do or all that I had gotten done that day. I stopped making excuses.
I started telling myself that I deserved NOT to have a Pepsi. I started to drink water. A lot. Whenever I was used to picking up a Pepsi and having a drink, I would fill my water bottle instead. And guess what? I started feeling better. Pretty much immediately.
And I was encouraged. I had taken a baby step, and it was working. It was hard. And I was doing it. I hit one month off Pepsi and was super proud of myself. I hit two months and was still proud, but was ready to take another step.
I reached out. I talked to someone else about my struggle with trying to be healthy again.
And I am so glad I did.
There were a few things I knew.
I had gained nearly 60 pounds since the birth of my 4th child, who was now 3.
I felt awful physically.
My body ached all the time.
My joints were a problem every hour of every day.
I had no energy and more things on my to-do list than ever.
I was running on empty all the time.
I was addicted to soda. Not in the typical sense of being addicted to the caffeine. I actually had no problem waking up in the morning. I didn't need soda to keep me awake. I needed it to keep me happy. (or so I thought). My Pepsi habit had gone from drinking a can every so often, to drinking a can everyday, then two cans, then gas station big cups with refills. It was horrible.
I felt awful emotionally. I was disappointed in myself. I felt hopeless.
And I was angry. I felt like I hadn't changed anything in my life other than the increase in soda, so why was I gaining weight so fast?
Clearly I needed a change.
So what did I do? I went to the doctor. I sought out the simple solution. I was just sure that he would say to me, "Your thyroid is off, let me give you this medication, and suddenly you will lose 70 pounds and be happy again!"
But guess what?
My thyroid was not off. I was.
It was a tough pill to swallow. There was no easy solution. I was going to have to work. Dang it!
I have never been a dieter. I have seen friends and loved ones yo-yo back and forth on diets, without actually changing much else about their daily life. So a diet program was kind of out for me. But there were things I could change about my diet. That I knew. So I started simple. No more soda.
I had my last Pepsi on July 28, 2012. I stopped buying the 12 packs. I stopped making pit stops at gas stations. I stopped telling myself that I deserved a Pepsi because of all the stuff I had to do or all that I had gotten done that day. I stopped making excuses.
I started telling myself that I deserved NOT to have a Pepsi. I started to drink water. A lot. Whenever I was used to picking up a Pepsi and having a drink, I would fill my water bottle instead. And guess what? I started feeling better. Pretty much immediately.
And I was encouraged. I had taken a baby step, and it was working. It was hard. And I was doing it. I hit one month off Pepsi and was super proud of myself. I hit two months and was still proud, but was ready to take another step.
I reached out. I talked to someone else about my struggle with trying to be healthy again.
And I am so glad I did.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
The Midnight 5K
Running has been one continuous learning experience. What I learned during the Midnight 5K is that Ryan has the smallest bladder in the history of bladders.
When the midnight 5K rolled around, Ryan and Heather had been running together about a month. I had not joined them on very many runs yet because it was easier for me to run while Cru was in school, and they ran early in the morning. By the end of May, school was out, and I had started to join them for the morning runs. Still, the Midnight 5K was one of our first times running all three of us together. We were still figuring out our pace. And getting used to talking while we ran. I had discovered that this was a problem for me. I found that I couldn't breathe if I was talking while running. As the weight started to come off, and I got more conditioned, I could finally talk and run at the same time. But at the time of the 5K, I was still struggling. So even though it was only a 5K, I was a little nervous.
We picked up our packets and still had an hour before the race. So we headed to Dairy Queen and got smoothies. We dug through our swag bags and found our glow sticks and glow in the dark shirts. (though I will say that we were not convinced that our shirts glowed until after we got home. They certainly didn't show up at night). They also had some glow mouth pieces that we put in for a picture, and then abandoned, because seriously? Who is going to run with a mouth piece in?
The Midnight 5K was also my first timed race. The Color Me Rad had been a "just for fun" race. The run for Talen was just a small fund raising event. It was exciting to line up at the start and wait for our turn to cross. As the race started we just tried to stay in the top half of the group. The race went great. It was hard for my body to get used to the idea of running when normally I would be sleeping, but I felt like we kept a good pace. It was an interesting people watching experience. There were people there of all ages, including an 8 year old girl who kept pace with us clear until the end of the race.
And there was pink tank top lady. I am assuming that pink tank top lady was using the 5K as speed training, because she kept running past us at a sprint, and then slowing to a walk, at which point we would pass her. This happened over and over again. All three of us noticed pink tank top lady, but we didn't talk about her until we finished the race. More on her later.
Ryan had to pee. 3.1 miles is not that far; but when you have to pee, it is an eternity. And Ryan had to pee. So she was pretty excited when we hit the half way mark and they had porta potties. And I have to admit that I was happy to have a short break. After Ryan emerged a new woman from the porta potty, we resumed our pace and finished strong. As we ran, we tried to guess how many times we had passed pink tank top lady. And we noticed that the last time we passed pink tank top lady, she did not come sprinting back. Without ever talking about it, we had all been in competition with pink tank top lady. She had been our motivation to keep going and keep up our pace.
We finished our race and enjoyed our after-race treats. They also had pizza at the finish line, which totally grossed me out. I may be crazy, but pizza is SO not what I wanted to eat after running. Thankfully, they also had watermelon, which WAS what I wanted to eat after running. We checked the race results. We were just ahead of the half way mark for both our age group and in the overall results. In our regular runs we were averaging about a 12 minute pace. But at the 5K, we came in at under 11 minutes per mile.
It was a great feeling, and it made me realize that I was capable of more than I had given myself credit for. 8 months after taking on the challenge to run a 5K, I had finally done it. Yes, I had run that distance before, but there is nothing quite like the feeling on race day. And I knew there would be many more races in my future!
When the midnight 5K rolled around, Ryan and Heather had been running together about a month. I had not joined them on very many runs yet because it was easier for me to run while Cru was in school, and they ran early in the morning. By the end of May, school was out, and I had started to join them for the morning runs. Still, the Midnight 5K was one of our first times running all three of us together. We were still figuring out our pace. And getting used to talking while we ran. I had discovered that this was a problem for me. I found that I couldn't breathe if I was talking while running. As the weight started to come off, and I got more conditioned, I could finally talk and run at the same time. But at the time of the 5K, I was still struggling. So even though it was only a 5K, I was a little nervous.
We picked up our packets and still had an hour before the race. So we headed to Dairy Queen and got smoothies. We dug through our swag bags and found our glow sticks and glow in the dark shirts. (though I will say that we were not convinced that our shirts glowed until after we got home. They certainly didn't show up at night). They also had some glow mouth pieces that we put in for a picture, and then abandoned, because seriously? Who is going to run with a mouth piece in?
And there was pink tank top lady. I am assuming that pink tank top lady was using the 5K as speed training, because she kept running past us at a sprint, and then slowing to a walk, at which point we would pass her. This happened over and over again. All three of us noticed pink tank top lady, but we didn't talk about her until we finished the race. More on her later.
Ryan had to pee. 3.1 miles is not that far; but when you have to pee, it is an eternity. And Ryan had to pee. So she was pretty excited when we hit the half way mark and they had porta potties. And I have to admit that I was happy to have a short break. After Ryan emerged a new woman from the porta potty, we resumed our pace and finished strong. As we ran, we tried to guess how many times we had passed pink tank top lady. And we noticed that the last time we passed pink tank top lady, she did not come sprinting back. Without ever talking about it, we had all been in competition with pink tank top lady. She had been our motivation to keep going and keep up our pace.
We finished our race and enjoyed our after-race treats. They also had pizza at the finish line, which totally grossed me out. I may be crazy, but pizza is SO not what I wanted to eat after running. Thankfully, they also had watermelon, which WAS what I wanted to eat after running. We checked the race results. We were just ahead of the half way mark for both our age group and in the overall results. In our regular runs we were averaging about a 12 minute pace. But at the 5K, we came in at under 11 minutes per mile.
It was a great feeling, and it made me realize that I was capable of more than I had given myself credit for. 8 months after taking on the challenge to run a 5K, I had finally done it. Yes, I had run that distance before, but there is nothing quite like the feeling on race day. And I knew there would be many more races in my future!
Friday, May 17, 2013
5K for Talen
Before we moved, I signed up for a 5K that would happen in February. I knew that if I didn't sign up for something, then I would not have the motivation to stay running. This was a win-win opportunity, as the 5K was a fund-raiser. Talen is the little boy of some friends of ours from when we were first married. He was born with a condition that doctors have been unable to diagnose, and he is almost completely paralyzed. His family has huge medical costs, as well as travel costs as they have taken him to various parts of the country for tests in an attempt to find a cause for his condition. I was excited to be able to put my registration money to a good cause, and to have a reason to keep running, even through the chaos of the move.
This was the first 5K that I ran on my own. I don't think I pushed myself as much as I should have, but part of the course went across a field filled with holes, and I didn't dare run it for fear of turning an ankle. Still, I finished faster than I had for the Color Me Rad, coming in at about 40 minutes even.
I had a wonderful cheering squad at the finish line.
My kids gave me some high fives and fist bumps as I crossed, and it was fun to see them there. I also think it's important that my kids have seen me through this process. I am not quiet about how often I go running, or how far I have run. It may seem boastful or egotistic, but I want them to see that I am doing something that is hard for me, and I am succeeding. Even little successes are successes still. Instead of having the mom who is becoming more and more overweight, they have the mom who is overweight, but working on it. And I hope they get something out of that.
This was the first 5K that I ran on my own. I don't think I pushed myself as much as I should have, but part of the course went across a field filled with holes, and I didn't dare run it for fear of turning an ankle. Still, I finished faster than I had for the Color Me Rad, coming in at about 40 minutes even.
I had a wonderful cheering squad at the finish line.
My kids gave me some high fives and fist bumps as I crossed, and it was fun to see them there. I also think it's important that my kids have seen me through this process. I am not quiet about how often I go running, or how far I have run. It may seem boastful or egotistic, but I want them to see that I am doing something that is hard for me, and I am succeeding. Even little successes are successes still. Instead of having the mom who is becoming more and more overweight, they have the mom who is overweight, but working on it. And I hope they get something out of that.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
I will NEVER run a marathon.
It is funny to me when I think of how many times I said those words. "I will never run a marathon." "I am not training for a marathon or anything, I am just running for fun." "I think it's awesome that people can run marathons, but it's just not what I am looking to do." etc. etc. etc.
Early in April, three things happened. First, I stepped on a scale. It may come as a surprise that I had been running for more than 6 months and had not stepped on a scale, but it's true. I have already said, my intention was not to lose weight. I was not in the habit of regularly weighing myself. (it gets a little old when the number makes you want to cry). One morning, I noted that my pants were fitting quite differently, and I decided that I should go ahead and try the scale. To my surprise, I was down nearly 25 pounds! Suddenly I had a concrete representation of all my hard work! I was inspired.
Second, I was picking up Cru from preschool after a run, and my friend Heather approached me. She and our friend Ryan had started running a couple of weeks before, and a little seed had been planted in Heather. The little marathon seed. But if she was going to go down that crazy road, she wasn't going down it alone. So she took us down with her. Down that road, I mean. When she first proposed the idea, I told her "no". Straight up "no". Not a chance. Not going to happen. I could never keep up with Ryan and Heather. Neither of them had an ounce of fat on them, and they were both taller than me. (I have always had a fear of running with people who are taller than I am).
Then, finally, the Boston Marathon happened. I, like everyone else, was horrified at the tragedy that was the bombing of the Boston Marathon finish line. But in addition to the sadness at the loss of life, I felt another sense of loss. I felt for those athletes who had trained and worked to qualify for the Boston. And then trained and worked to prepare for it. And then to have your celebration tainted by terror? Or to have your finish taken from you altogether? I was so sad for them! After a couple of days of media coverage, the hero stories started to emerge. Someone posted a slideshow of the signs of strength and hope in the wake of the Boston bombing. This slideshow focused on the good things that happened that day...either before the bombing, or because of it. It focused on the inspirational stories. One particular photo struck me.
I was humbled. How could I use my height as a reason for not committing to a marathon? My pep talk to myself went a little something like this, "Seriously, Megan? You don't want to run a marathon because it will be too hard? Suck it up and do something hard, you dork!"
My birthday is at the end of April. My birthday present to myself was registering for the October St. George Marathon.
If you want to learn more about the two dwarfs who ran the Boston Marathon, read here and here.
Early in April, three things happened. First, I stepped on a scale. It may come as a surprise that I had been running for more than 6 months and had not stepped on a scale, but it's true. I have already said, my intention was not to lose weight. I was not in the habit of regularly weighing myself. (it gets a little old when the number makes you want to cry). One morning, I noted that my pants were fitting quite differently, and I decided that I should go ahead and try the scale. To my surprise, I was down nearly 25 pounds! Suddenly I had a concrete representation of all my hard work! I was inspired.
Second, I was picking up Cru from preschool after a run, and my friend Heather approached me. She and our friend Ryan had started running a couple of weeks before, and a little seed had been planted in Heather. The little marathon seed. But if she was going to go down that crazy road, she wasn't going down it alone. So she took us down with her. Down that road, I mean. When she first proposed the idea, I told her "no". Straight up "no". Not a chance. Not going to happen. I could never keep up with Ryan and Heather. Neither of them had an ounce of fat on them, and they were both taller than me. (I have always had a fear of running with people who are taller than I am).
Then, finally, the Boston Marathon happened. I, like everyone else, was horrified at the tragedy that was the bombing of the Boston Marathon finish line. But in addition to the sadness at the loss of life, I felt another sense of loss. I felt for those athletes who had trained and worked to qualify for the Boston. And then trained and worked to prepare for it. And then to have your celebration tainted by terror? Or to have your finish taken from you altogether? I was so sad for them! After a couple of days of media coverage, the hero stories started to emerge. Someone posted a slideshow of the signs of strength and hope in the wake of the Boston bombing. This slideshow focused on the good things that happened that day...either before the bombing, or because of it. It focused on the inspirational stories. One particular photo struck me.
I was humbled. How could I use my height as a reason for not committing to a marathon? My pep talk to myself went a little something like this, "Seriously, Megan? You don't want to run a marathon because it will be too hard? Suck it up and do something hard, you dork!"
My birthday is at the end of April. My birthday present to myself was registering for the October St. George Marathon.
If you want to learn more about the two dwarfs who ran the Boston Marathon, read here and here.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Wake Up. Run. Be Awesome.
I have been thinking about starting this blog for about a month, now. Pretty much ever since I decided to run the marathon. The only reason I hadn't started it yet was because I wanted to think of a good title for it. My main reason for wanting to start the blog is that I am talking the ear off of my poor husband...who is being very patient and kind about it, but is probably SUPER sick of hearing about running. (nice run-on sentence, eh?) I feel like I need to share my thoughts and feelings about this whole physical and emotional process, and it's just not fair to him to make him listen to it all the time. So that's what I will use this blog for. I will have a more in-depth "how I got here" kind of post soon. But for now, I will leave you with the story behind the title of this blog.
Earlier this week I played volleyball for a couple of hours. I had not played volleyball in years. I felt great and had a great time, but the next morning, my right knee was hurting something fierce. I worried that it would mean I had to give up my long run on Saturday. Thankfully, Friday was my rest day, so I was able to give my knee some relief, but it still hurt all day long. Then last night (Friday) I was up late attending an anniversary reception and didn't get home and settled in until midnight. Also, Rick and the boys were gone on the Fathers and Sons campout, and he would not be home to watch the girls. Those three factors together had me debating whether or not I would run this morning. But last night, I decided that I would start my run, and then just run as far as I was feeling strong. (I talked to Hannah about the possibility of my being on my run still when she and Kate got up, and she was fine with that. She's so big now!) So I set my alarm on my phone. I titled the alarm "Wake up. Run. Be Awesome."
When the alarm went off at 6:30 this morning, I again debated whether or not I should run. Then I looked at my phone, saw the alarm title, and got out of bed. Apparently I am highly motivated by the idea of being awesome. ;) I ran 7.17 miles this morning, my longest run yet. I kept my standard long run pace of about 12 and a half minutes (which I will have to improve by the marathon), but I ran the whole thing (except for when I stopped and took a picture of the hot air balloons, and when I got a drink at the park at my half way point). I was proud of myself, and I'm feeling great. As I was cooling down after my run, I thought about my alarm again. And it occurred to me that it was the perfect title for this blog. Wake up. Run. Be awesome. I know that 7.17 miles is peanuts compared to a lot of people, but for me, it's awesome. And that makes me happy.
Earlier this week I played volleyball for a couple of hours. I had not played volleyball in years. I felt great and had a great time, but the next morning, my right knee was hurting something fierce. I worried that it would mean I had to give up my long run on Saturday. Thankfully, Friday was my rest day, so I was able to give my knee some relief, but it still hurt all day long. Then last night (Friday) I was up late attending an anniversary reception and didn't get home and settled in until midnight. Also, Rick and the boys were gone on the Fathers and Sons campout, and he would not be home to watch the girls. Those three factors together had me debating whether or not I would run this morning. But last night, I decided that I would start my run, and then just run as far as I was feeling strong. (I talked to Hannah about the possibility of my being on my run still when she and Kate got up, and she was fine with that. She's so big now!) So I set my alarm on my phone. I titled the alarm "Wake up. Run. Be Awesome."
When the alarm went off at 6:30 this morning, I again debated whether or not I should run. Then I looked at my phone, saw the alarm title, and got out of bed. Apparently I am highly motivated by the idea of being awesome. ;) I ran 7.17 miles this morning, my longest run yet. I kept my standard long run pace of about 12 and a half minutes (which I will have to improve by the marathon), but I ran the whole thing (except for when I stopped and took a picture of the hot air balloons, and when I got a drink at the park at my half way point). I was proud of myself, and I'm feeling great. As I was cooling down after my run, I thought about my alarm again. And it occurred to me that it was the perfect title for this blog. Wake up. Run. Be awesome. I know that 7.17 miles is peanuts compared to a lot of people, but for me, it's awesome. And that makes me happy.
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