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That Spring in My Step
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kirstyandjames/
Ahhh, springtime…which in Oregon means you can have a few inches of snow on the ground one day and 65 degrees with clear skies the next.
My personal life this week has been equally dramatic; I’ve known for some time that my job would be cut this month (and it was), but I wouldn’t have guessed that the two replacement positions I’d found would vanish as quickly as last Thursday’s snow. Throw in a hefty cold/flu virus, a 35th birthday, and a partridge in a pear tree…and, well, it was time for a new perspective.
That perspective came on Sunday when I made it out of the house for my run – the first I’d had in a week. I had expected to feel a bit puny, and even planned a course that would have allowed me to bail after the first two miles. But here’s the thing: that run was like pressing “reset.” Not only did my body shake out the cobwebs, my mind set aside all of the self-doubt and defeat that had been festering over the week.
Not only did I move, I moved on.
I felt better than I had in several days and came home with a renewed passion about the work I do, how much I love it, and the value I can bring. No matter how much it rains or snows, the flowers and trees won’t be the only ones coming back to life this spring!
(In the meantime, if you know of anyone looking for freelance or full time marketing/PR/writing/graphic design help, drop me a line.)
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Novices Take Note: 5 Pieces of Running Gear You Can’t Afford to Miss
Have you ever wondered if you’re wearing the right gear, talking the right talk, looking and acting like a real runner should? One of my favorite children’s books is about Finklehopper Frog, who decides one day that he wants to be a jogger. He goes to the store, buys himself a jazzy jogging suit, and hits the road. Although he starts out feeling great, his self-doubt grows as he continues along his journey, teased by passers-by about his clothing and the fact that he is actually hopping – not jogging.
One of the beauties of running is that there is a very low barrier to entry; with enough motivation (or a large enough spider), nearly anyone can be a runner. (And with many runners embracing barefoot running, you can arguably enjoy the sport without any gear at all!) That said, there are a few pieces of gear I’ve come to rely on over the years to help me “feel” like a runner (even when I look more like a frog).
Item #1: Body Glide
Chafing can be a real nuisance for runners and Glide is the answer to our prayers. Notice the sticker on the tube that reads “Great for Feet Too!” I have to laugh – because feet are the last thing in the world I’d think to put it on. Really, the sticker should read: “Great for Inner Thighs Too!” or “Great for Nipples Too!”…or, my personal favorite, “Great for Butt Cracks Too!” Seriously, a tube of Body Glide is the best $6 you’ll spend this year (which is about how long it’ll last).Quick tip: Glide is, apparently, a well-kept secret – which means your best bet is to buy it from a store that caters to athletes, like Portland Running Company or REI. When I asked several different staff members for “Body Glide” at Rite Aid, I was repeatedly sent to the family planning aisle. :s
Item #2: Lycra
I’m telling you to flat-out ignore those cute little running shorts you see at the athletic apparel stores. If you are built like me, shorts are not your friends. They’ll wad themselves up in between your legs while you run and there’s no amount of Glide that can prevent the damage your legs will wreak upon each other. Lycra is a much better option; not only does it keep inner-leg chafing to a minimum, the compression Lycra provides can really feel great on your legs. (And, if you’re self-conscious, just wear a cute running skort or some shorts on top.)Item #3: Professionally-Fitted Running Shoes
I fondly remember the good ol’ days of buying shoes because they were cute. Or because they were a brand name shoe on sale at Costco. Those days were easier on my pocketbook, but I now sport a pair of Morton’s neuromas that remind me, every step, of the ultimate price I am paying for years of wearing ill-fitting footwear.Here’s the deal: go to a running store that offers a free gait analysis. (What that means is that one of their highly trained staff will watch you while you run a short distance, or possibly even videotape your feet as you run on a treadmill. They’ll check for pronation and fetch a handful of shoes that are just what you need.) I’ve shopped at several running stores in the Portland area, and every one of them has encouraged me to take a variety of shoes outside for a spin. It’s always great to “try before you buy,” and it is suprising how differently one brand will feel from another. Also, don’t be surprised if the brand you settle on is one you’ve never heard of before.
And one more thing: you’ll be advised to buy your shoes a size or more larger than what you wear to accommodate for the swelling your feet will experience on long runs. Since I’m an oddball with one size 9 foot and one size 10 foot, that means I sport a size 11 running shoe.
Item #4: Running Socks
Let’s talk about socks, baby. When I first saw running socks on display at a running store, I had to roll my eyes. Of all the things to spend my limited money on, running socks were near the bottom of my list. I honestly can’t remember who first suggested that I try a pair of Balega socks, but they made a huge difference! They have cushioning in all the right places, no seams, and are well ventilated. Since making the switch, I haven’t had any blisters – which is a small miracle considering I run with orthotic inserts!Item #5: Hydration Belt
My first few years of running, I relied on a handheld water bottle that slipped onto my hand with a little strap. It did a great job for my half marathon training runs and I usually had enough water. However, when I started increasing my mileage, I needed to carry more water and finally broke down and bought a hydration belt. Long story short, I love my Amphipod RunLite Water Belt; it holds 32 oz of water, perfectly distributed in four 8-oz bottles around my waist. Plus, it has a handy pouch for snacks/ID/etc. and is fully adjustable. After running with a handheld water bottle for years, I really appreciate being hands-free when I run.What’s on your list of must-have running gear? See you on the course, fellow hoppers!
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Wake Up & Smell the Skidmarks
Today’s Portland Fit seminar was about safety; I was unable to attend this week, but wanted to share a story of my own. This harrowing tale takes place on the PSU campus and stars an iPod, a few buckets of rain, an SUV, and yours truly.A few years ago, I was heading through the PSU campus for a lunch hour run on my way to Terwilliger. It was raining cats and dogs, but I was rocking out to my iPod and felt like a million bucks. I came to an intersection where an SUV was slowing down for a stop sign.
Now…I always try to make eye contact with the driver before crossing in front of a car, but it was raining hard and there was a reflection on the windshield. The car was safely stopped, and I bounded into the intersection. The instant I was in front of the vehicle, BOOM!
The car lurched forward and my first instinct was to throw my arm out to protect myself (or maybe to stop the car?). I’m not really sure what I was thinking…adrenaline does funny things to your mind. What I do know, however, is that I kept running. My heart was beating itself right out of my chest and I made it halfway up the first hill on Terwilliger before I noticed that my hand was covered in blood.
And that’s when I realized…holy crap, I just got hit by a car.
And holy crap, what are my Facebook friends going to say?
(Seriously. That’s what I thought.)
And then I cried my eyes out in gratitude for the guardian angels that have kept me safe over the years. (Like the time in 8th grade when I got caught sneaking out of the house and my mother, who has long since given up the habit, had run out of cigarettes. Or when I wrecked both of my parents’ cars on the same day.) I love my life a lot, and there are two little people in particular who deserve to have me around for a very long time.
A few months later, a young woman was killed while out for a jog when she stepped in front of a MAX train. She was wearing her iPod. She left behind a young son, nearly the same age as my youngest daughter.
So, for what it’s worth, I recommend not running with an iPod. Worst case scenario, you get run over and die. Best case scenario, you miss out on making new friends while running with the group. (Seriously…no one’s going to strike up a conversation with you if they think you won’t be able to hear them.)
Learning to “get up and go” without music to motivate you can take some getting used to. But your guardian angels will appreciate the break.
Photo courtesy of insane gal
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The Pig In a Dog Suit
When I was a kid, we had a huge Malamute/German Shepherd named Rufus Rastus Johnson Brown…”Rastus,” for short. He was a massive dog – at least 80 lbs – and had an appetite to match. That dog ate everything in sight, and his penchant for donuts (maple bars, to be specific) earned him a reputation for being a “pig in a dog suit.” (He also liked to pee on my shoes, which may explain why I’m not much a dog person myself…but anyway, I digress…)Last week, I wrote about sometimes feeling like an impostor to the sport of running. In fact, when I tell someone I’m a marathon runner, I often follow the comment with some b.s. apologetic gibberish like this: “…but I’m not very fast” or “I know I don’t look like one.” I even remember being completely confused after finishing my very first half marathon when they gave me a medal, even though I finished somewhere around 3,000th place.
I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. Many people get discouraged from running because they:
- Have to take walk breaks
- Don’t feel like spending hundreds of dollars on trendy running gear and gadgets
- Can’t run as fast as their more physically-gifted running friends
- Are too competitive and don’t want to start something they cannot winBut here’s the deal. No one cares. Really. When I tell people I ran the Portland Marathon, I have yet to be asked if I won it. Or what I wore. Or if I walked. To tell the truth, most people don’t even know how long a marathon is, but they’re impressed all the same. And even when I run with “fast” friends who make my lungs scream at me, I know they have similar insecurities about running with their “fast” friends.
I *love* this quote from the new Portland Fit website: “No matter how slow you are, you’re still lapping everyone on the couch.”
I am a runner. In a Monique suit.
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The Second Best Day of My Life
I’ve lived a lot of really great days. 12,753 of them to be precise. And of those days, there are a two that stand out from the rest. Coincidentally, they each involve blood, sweat, tears…and a peanut butter sandwich.
If this were a blog about birthing babies (specifically, a 45 hour homebirth VBAC), this post would be titled The Very Best Day of My Life. But since this blog is about running, I’ll tell you instead about the runner up (punny!) – the day I ran the Portland Marathon.
The Second Best Day of My Life, otherwise known as October 9, 2011, was a day for which I had spent months training, preparing, dreaming, and fearing…wondering if I would have what it would take to make it through the finish line. You might assume that the finish line was the best part of the race. But in fact, that honor goes to the very first mile.
The first mile, my entire heart relocated itself from my chest to my throat. I wasn’t aware of anything but moving along with the throng of runners, running as effortlessly as if I were on a raft being swept downriver. Thousands of people lined the streets and I couldn’t help but feel as if they were all cheering for me. FOR ME! I wanted to savor every second of the experience.
My heart swelled a little more with each musical group I passed. It was barely even sunrise, yet these people were there to ROCK THE HOUSE. They were singing and drumming and putting on one kickass show after another…FOR ME! It was incredibly emotional. I found myself pulling my visor down lower and lower on my forehead, hoping it might conceal the giant crocodile tears that were gushing unabashedly from my eyes.
Having trained as well as I had, I was confident in my ability to make it through the first half of the marathon without any concerns at all. I found myself running in sync with a few friends from Portland Fit, and our conversations helped pass the time and the miles.
The going started to get tough as I approached the St. John’s bridge, around mile 17. My legs were a little crampy and I found myself taking regular walking breaks. In fact, I felt a little hungry. Luckily for me, I knew my friend B.E. was planning to meet me at mile 19. I whipped out my cell phone and sent her a text with a special request – a peanut butter sandwich! (BTW, I wouldn’t advise texting while running.)
At mile 19, B.E. came through with the second-best peanut butter sandwich I’ve EVER had, and she and her husband ran with me to mile 23. After we parted ways, it dawned on me that I had made it through the hardest part of the race and had only 3 miles left. I was in the home stretch!
Once again, my heart lodged itself in my throat. I knew my posse would be cheering me through the finish line, just 3 glorious miles away! I had kept a slow and steady pace out of fear of bonking, and was ready to kick it up a few notches. You’ve probably all seen this picture, and it aptly describes how I felt vs how I looked. (OMG…a topic for another post: has anyone EVER had a flattering race picture taken? For the love of Pete, I either look completely pissed or like I’m going to die.)
My family had been keeping close tabs on my progress throughout the race so they could be there right as I crossed the finish line. However, no one would have guessed how quickly I’d breeze through those last three miles. And no one would have guessed that they’d arrive a few minutes too late. It was an anticlimactic end to an incredible journey, but unforgettable nonetheless! (Trust me, I won’t let my husband forget. Ever.)
Although it has been a few months since I first proudly wore my finisher’s medal, in a metaphorical sense I have never taken it off. I hope to run many more marathons in the years to come, but even if I don’t, I’ll always get to say that I am a marathon runner. It was, and is, a powerful right of passage that was the result of an incredible commitment I made.
When I think back to last year’s training, I remember being overcome at times by doubt and uncertainty. There were times I worried my training would be knocked off course…like the week I thought my entire brain was being rotted from the inside out due to a sinus infection. Or the week that I drove over 1500 miles in the exclusive company of my two preschoolers.
But it was worth every minute, every mile. What an incredible day it was.
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My Inner Voice Has A Potty Mouth
Every day, there is an epic battle that takes place between my ears. The PG-rated version goes something like this:
4:45 am: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! No FLUFFING way! You were up with the kids three times last night. The cat hucked up a hair ball like an hour ago somewhere near the foot of your bed. You have a huge day at work ahead of you. Running today is out of the question.
4:54 am: FLUFF NO! Is that a sore throat? Ahhhhhh, shiznit. Was it the MAX, or the Children’s Museum? It’s probably SARS. Or Bubonic Plague!
And somewhere, somehow, when the 4 o’clock hour gives way to the 5 o’clock hour, that snarky a-hole voice gets shoved out of the way by the one that talks like this:
5:04 am: You are AWESOME. FLUFFING AWESOME! You deserve a medal! Let’s get out of bed and DO THIS! You never regret it when you’re done with your run…you’re worth it!
One of my favorite gems of wisdom from the Portland Fit coaches is this: “The hardest distance to conquer is the 8 inches between your ears.”
Did I mention that my mom is a licensed hypnotherapist? The way she explains it, our thoughts have a way of making imprints in our brains. When we think the same thoughts over and over again, whether they are good thoughts or bad thoughts, they become well-worn trenches that make themselves part of the scenery of our minds. Over time, those trenches turn into deep ravines, out of which you may not be able to climb. Negative self-talk will sabotage your good intentions, every time.
Henry Ford pretty much nailed this when he said, “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t, you’re right.”
So before it’s too late, tell that inner voice of yours to shut the fluff up. You’re kicking a$$ all the way to the finish line, with a bar of soap on standby.
Tell me: how do you squash the mean voices in your head?
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Run For Your Life!
There are exactly two people in this world who believe I have the ability to win a marathon. They have pigtails, enjoy gummy worms, and fear that a haircut will take away their magical powers (a la Rapunzel).Each time I come home from a running event, they ask, excitedly, “Did you win the race, mama?” I proudly show them my medal and t-shirt, while the littlest one pinches her nose and tells me to go take a shower. It’s a highlight of my life!
I’ve been a runner, off and on, my entire life. However, there were a few years in my twenties when I traded running for massive amounts of cookie dough and beer. I gained 100 pounds and struggled to walk the three blocks between my MAX stop and office each day. My “a-ha moment” came when I was shopping for a dress to wear to my brother’s college graduation. I found the biggest dress they had in the store – a size 26 – and it was the only thing in the entire store that fit. At the rate at which I was gaining weight, there wouldn’t be anything in my size the next time I shopped at that store. Something needed to change.
Over the next year, I managed to lose 80 pounds through a combination of diet and exercise. (Radical concept, right?) A friend talked me into running the Shamrock 8k, and I officially logged my first road race. I was hooked! Over the next several years, my training was sporadic as I started a family, but I kept coming back to running. It’s just something I love. And with the expert guidance and training program from Portland Fit, I finished the Portland Marathon in 2011.
I’ll never be a fast runner, and I’ll probably always be self-conscious in Lycra. (Sometimes I get hung up on those two aspects of running…as if being slow and a little flabby somehow make me an impostor!) But my goal with this blog is to share bits and pieces of my journey at 12 minutes per mile, and to encourage and inspire others who find themselves toward the back of the pack.
Be proud of your journey. I am!
