What Do I Do Now?

The first week following a marathon is typical for me. I’m sore and I can’t walk down a flight of stairs without uttering a banshee-like sound. I wait patiently for the race photos hoping there’s at least one I want to purchase. Then, the next Saturday or Sunday after the marathon rolls around. I start remembering … this time last week I was at 16 miles. Wait a minute, this was where my long runs were tucked into my schedule. These were the ones that were a part of my weekends for the past twenty-five weeks. Wow, that’s a lot of time that I blocked off; because, you know, I'm slow. Now, what do I do? I can’t remember all the things I told myself I could be doing instead of that week’s long runs. Suddenly, my closets don’t seem all that in need of cleaning

My mama cat is happy I’m not training long anymore. She’s curled up in my lap. We’re outside. There’s a nice breeze so that the leaves are falling. This is as close as it gets to fall here. We’re watching a hummingbird at my feeder that’s gone about as far south as it wants to. My plan is to work back up to a base so that I don’t have to start from scratch again. Although it goes by quickly, twenty-five weeks is still twenty-five weeks. 

For December, I’ll be content to complete the Runner’s World Run Streak, have fun with the RunChat Hunt, and smile and roll over in bed when rain starts to fall on a Sunday morning. I don’t have to beat the heat or humidity yet.

Philadelphia Marathon - November 23, 2014

Two things I knew about Philly fans were gleaned from being a Dallas Cowboys fan. I knew they booed Santa Claus and they cheered once when Cowboys wide receiver, Michael Irvin, lay motionless on the field at Veteran’s Stadium. It’s understandable that I took the 20 advertised cheer zones at the Philadelphia Marathon on Sunday, November 23, 2014 with a grain of salt. What would they be like and would they still be there when this back of packer arrived?

Rookie Mistake

The day started chilly, 40 degrees, and early at 5:30 a.m. They told us to show up then because security would be tight. It wasn’t. I realized because of the position of my blue corral, I could’ve showed up fifteen minutes before the race start and walked right in. One more hour of sleep would've been welcome. The start was calm and controlled which was an odd thing given the number of participants, 23,000. Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter tried to high five as many of the runners as he could at the starting line. He was still there thirty minutes later when my corral ran past.

A Taste of History

As a history geek, the first seven miles where complete bliss. We ran past the National Constitution Center, Christ Church, Independence Hall, and the Liberty Bell and on the streets where Ben Franklin and John Adams had walked centuries earlier. The crowds were awesome along Chestnut Street. One older lady took a drag on a cigarette and said, "I smoke, you run."  We crossed over the Schuykill River and wound our way through University City, the heart of West Philadelphia and home to The University of Pennsylvania and Drexel University.The crazily-dressed 80's dance team got us over the hills between miles 8 and 10 before heading back towards the Philadelphia Art Museum.  It was there that I had to make a decision. Go left and continue on for 13 miles or turn right and finish with a medal, just not a marathon one. I promised to check myself and see how I felt when I got there. However, this entire trip was about making a left turn. I veered left.

More Cowbell

The second half of the Philly Marathon was an out and back route along the Schuykill River. It was beautiful; however, as a back of the packer, this is the part where the crowds tend to be few and far between. It's all about you and finishing; yet, cheering crowds were still populated along the course. Smiling volunteers in yellow shirts were at turn-around points and bridges. The young man dancing and blasting out "Shake It Off" gave us all an energy boost. The folks in Manayuk, a Native American word meaning "where we go to drink", cheered while enjoying brunch and mimosas. I grabbed the last Yuengling beer a Mile 19. The "Black Girls Run" support group seemed to be at every mile with their cowbells. They were as loud at the waning miles as they were at the start and brought such positive spirit to everyone. The folks with orange slices were an especially wonderful blessing. 

Despite a nagging back muscle spasm at 22 miles, I ran past the Rocky statue and followed a young mother in whose autistic son finished the last few yards with her. Mayor Nutter was still there smiling and high-fiving each finisher. I was one of them!

I still have warm thoughts about Philadelphia. They definitely lived up to their moniker, "the city of Brotherly Love" and make me want to plan for marathon number ten next fall. I will, however, be cheering against their Eagles tomorrow versus the Cowboys and saying a prayer for Tony Romo.

Long Run to Philly - 16 Miles

So the taper begins. It wasn't a perfect training process. Work and travel consistently intruded on the training so that I was only able to build to 16 miles for my longest run. I'm tempted to squeeze one more long run in before the Philadelphia Marathon in three weeks. A little voice inside me says, it is what it is. I'll run what I can and walk the rest; whatever it takes to finish. I've been relatively consistent in the training and kept this commitment to myself even through the Central Texas heat. I figure cooler temps will tell my body I've got a few more miles left in me. I pushed myself out the door when I didn't feel like it. I've run in some great places-Alexandria, DC, Corpus Christi, Rockport, Milwaukee, and New Orleans. I've run some great races-Freedom 5000, Run for the Water and completed the Runner's World #runstreak in the summer. Trust the process, if not the long runs.

Run for the Water Ten Miler - October 26, 2014

I try to participate in races that either have an interesting course or support a compelling story. When they do both, signing up is a no-brainer. The Run for the Water (RTW) 10-miler on Sunday, October 26, 2014 was one of those races.

RTW is the second largest fully charity-produced road race in ATX. Registration benefited the Gazelle Foundation, a local non-profit that funds and builds clean water projects in Burundi, Africa. The foundation was inspired by Gilbert Tuhabonye, a Burundi survivor of the Hutu/Tutsi civil upheaval of the 1980’s and 90’s. Gilbert always greets the runners as they finish. His smile alone is worth the effort; however, the tech shirt and #Finish 3st socks were an added bonus.

The race start was a clear, calm 62 degrees with 85% humidity. I used this run to gauge my fitness for the Philadelphia Marathon next month. It’s a challenging course cresting at six miles before a gentle downhill finish. The reward for reaching that highest point is a panoramic view of the Colorado River bending around the hills of Austin. It’s difficult not to stop and snap a picture. This year, I didn’t. I was having too good of a run. I tried to thank every police officer I passed and express gratitude at each water stop; the race, after all, was all about water.

I finished in respectable shape and within my time goal. My quads were a little tight the next day, but it was from a good and true effort. RTW was one of those races that make me feel like a better runner – inside and out.

Long Run to Philly - 13 Miles

Slowly but surely building back up the mileage. Travel played havoc with my training schedule. Managed to work in weekday runs. I searched some training advice that said I should be okay. I'm back on schedule and about ready to do the final mileage buildup. I can't believe I"m two months out. A couple of weeks ago it felt like I had forever to go.

Seventeen weeks down. Eight to go.

Long Run to Philly - 8 miles

I'm learning at my age that I get the runs I deserve. It's not like when I was younger and could roll out of bed and knock off a long run regardless of what I did or didn't do the week before. Ah, youth. This was a recovery week before more weeks of mileage build up. An 8-miler. I didn't eat, sleep, or hydrate well the week before. My body knew it on Saturday. I finished the run under my goal time; however, my mind and body were never into it. I had to push myself the whole time. Can't let that happen next week because it's a 13.5 miler. Begin with the end in mind as I plan my week. What kind of run do I want next Saturday? It all starts Sunday. Today.

Fourteen weeks down. Eleven weeks to go.

Long Run to Philly - 12 Miles

I'm halfway through training. So far so good. The past three months meant my schedule was at the mercy of business travel and with the exception of a couple of weeks, I was able to get out for the long runs. During next three months I will need to adjust around a different schedule-football. I shifted my long to run Saturday because I knew that there was no way I was getting up the next day to hit the running trail at 6 a.m. I could do it in my younger years, but not now. It was a good way to start the three-day weekend. I ran to the Capitol and back. The smell of fired-up BBQ cookers filled the air. People were tailgating already for a game that started at 7:00 p.m. It was a wonderful feeling to wake up on Sunday and know that I had already put int the work.

Thirteen weeks down. Twelve to go.

Only

I write the same quote on the first blank page of every month’s notebook. It’s by Natalie Goldberg and reads, “If you are not afraid of the voices inside you, you will not fear the critics outside you.” It’s a reminder of why I have the notebook at all and how I can be my own worst critic. It’s helped me professionally and personally. It’s my emotional coach.

I’ve noticed the “only” voice cropping up in my running and subsequent journal entries lately. I’ve read several articles that say it’s the voice of perfection, which is ironic given the state of the inside of my house right now. It’s the voice with a measuring tape and a stopwatch. It’s the voice that tells me I only ran X miles today, only ran/walked today or only ran two days this week. It finds an “only” even on my best days. Combine it with my “should have” voice and it’s a miracle I run at all.  

Still, I’ve been getting out there for three months now. I’m halfway through my Philadelphia Marathon training, I’ve finished eleven out of thirteen long runs, and even those missed ones were due to travel and meetings. The trick I’ve found is to tell myself getting out there is the bar. A bad run is better than no run so long as I get out the door. My mind may think I’ve “only” run so many miles, but my body doesn’t know the difference. Just get out there; that’s good enough and that’s a standard that even my “only” voice doesn’t know what to do with.

Long Run to Philly - 11 Miles

I must be serious about this marathon thing. I tried to talk myself out of the last long run. It's been a busy month. I've traveled to Milwaukee, New Orleans, and Dallas for business. While I was able to keep up with weekly runs on the road, I wasn't as successful as working in the long runs. I told myself while lying bed bed the night before this last run. I didn't eat enough. I drank too much. My body is tried. Somewhere inside me came this tiny voice, you're doing it and that was that.

It was a nice and easy run down to campus and back. I was under my time goal for the mileage and I felt like I could've gone on a few more  miles. My only regret was that I didn't head out earlier. The humidity was a pain after the first hour. Still, I knocked it out. The next challenge will be planning around football games and tailgates. Hopefully, that little "you're doing it" voice has its game day face ready to go. I'm going to need it.

Twelve weeks down. Thirteen weeks to go.

Long Run to Philly - 8 Miles

Back at it after conference travel to Milwaukee. I kept running throughout the week in the city of Laverne and Shirley. It was easy. I was close to lake and riverfront running and the temperatures were 20 degrees cooler; sunrise came up an hour earlier than I was used to. I could squeeze some quick runs in before my 8:00 a.m. meetings.

I was back to the long run yesterday. I can tell fall or at least fall in Central Texas is getting closer. It gets light later and later and football is in the air. They both can't come soon enough.

Nine weeks down. Sixteen to go.

Long Run to Philly - 7 Miles

I woke up yesterday and thought it was Monday. I let out a sigh. I had to go to work. It took me a couple of moments before I realized it was Sunday. Another sigh. I had to go for a long run. It's not that the long runs are so horribly long at this point. I'm just in the grinding stage of the training. I'm several months removed from the excitement of starting off and a lot of months away from the starting line. Right now, it's about logging the miles and trying to avoid that temperature/humidity cocktail. I crammed in two long runs into the same week last week combined with travel. My legs definitely felt it. It's been a milder summer than most. Last week we even got some rain. I was able to run after work because of the cloud cover and temperatures were 10 degrees less than normal. It's just about getting out there right now.

Seven weeks down. Eighteen to go.

Long Run to Philly - 6 miles

Squeezed in a long run before heading for the coast. I knew the call of the beach and bloodys on Sunday would be too much for me. Nice and easy run. 72 degrees and 97% humidity.

Six weeks down. Nineteen to go.

Long Run to Philly - 5 Miles

I've been reading a lot about Lewis and Clark lately. Like them, I'm on my own trail of discovery. Unlike them, my goal is not to find a water route to the Pacific. My goal is to finish my ninth marathon. My first one in ten years. Career and family changes have had a way of interrupting training during that span. Now, I'm 50+ and menopausal, so it should be an interesting journey. I'm using the USA Fit Training Schedule. I used it to train for my first marathon and for my previous marathons. I've completed plenty of half marathons during that span. I usually get to 15 miles and then something unexpected, good or bad, happens. We'll see this time. I've chosen the Philadelphia Marathon on November 23, 2014, as my goal because that's an off-week for my beloved Texas Longhorns, no home or away games. I'm sure on another level it represents freedom.

Yesterday's long run goal was five miles. A nice and easy run though at 72 degrees and 97% humidity, I felt as if I had a blanket over my back. I froze my water bottle like I read on a recent Runner's World post. It worked, keeping my water nice and cold for the duration of the run; although there was that annoying sound of an ice block swirling around in my container towards the finish. I'm sure by the end of the summer here in Central Texas that won't be a problem.

Five weeks down. Twenty to go.

Pick Me

I’m the runner you pick off at the end of a race. The one you’ve been sizing up from the halfway point. The one you tell yourself, “I don’t care about my time. I just want to finish in front of ….” It’s okay, I’ve done that too; usually it’s someone in an air cast or kilt. 

I knew I was the prey yesterday at the Freedom 5000. A July 4^th run around Camp Mabry. I saw a woman with “Tex Ass” printed across her shorts walking in front of me. I passed her; concentrating on keeping up my pace. I had a nice run going and didn’t want to mess it up. She started running, stopping a few hundred feet in front of me, and, then, walking again. She did this three more times. I clearly stirred something in her. She finally pulled away and finished ahead of me. I tried to summon my inner Leo Manzano, but no kick would come. I probably had more than ten years on her and I was on day 40 of the Runner’s World Run Streak. At least, that’s what I told myself.

I couldn’t fault her; if I had “Tex Ass” across my butt, I wouldn’t let me pass me either. At least, I made her work for it. 

The Longest Day for the Longest Hill

A recent Facebook post from Your Austin Marathon said this: Battle San Jacinto. San Jac is a “cruel 85-foot climb over a quarter of a mile that starts the final mile.  If you didn’t prepare for it, it can really take you down.”  It’s not the worst hill ever, but after several hours taking a beating, your quadriceps don’t know the difference. It feels like a long hill even with all the people lining up to cheer you on.

Today, on June 21, 2014, summer solstice, the Alzheimer’s Association, honors those who are on their longest hills as teams from all over the world come together to “honor the strength, passion and endurance of those facing Alzheimer's with a day of activity.” My dad passed away several months ago from complications related to Alzheimer’s. For the more than 5 million of Americans living with the disease and over 15 million caregivers, every day is an uphill effort. Every valley leads to a bigger hill. Today, I pray for families of caregivers who are just now starting their own journeys. My brother and mom were my dad’s primary caregivers. They embraced the challenge in such a way that my dad was able to pass away at home when he was ready. And, isn’t that what we all want ... to finish our race on our own terms.

ABOUT THE LONGEST DAY

On The Longest Day, teams around the world come together to honor the strength, passion and endurance of those facing Alzheimer's with a day of activity. Held on the summer solstice, June 21, 2014, this event calls on participants to raise funds and awareness to advance the efforts of the Alzheimer's Association.

This Was Me

I could relate to the posts. "Pro runner Lauren Fleshman challenged runners to post unflattering photos of themselves in an effort to keep it real and redefine the meaning of beauty." Like many of the women who posted, I had regretted the double chins, bulging waistlines, and cheese thighs I saw in my finish line photos. I always wondered why those companies thought I would ever purchase photos that looked like that. My latest finish line photo was no exception. I reluctantly clicked open my Austin Half photos waiting in my inbox. The usual initial disappointment. That’s really what I look like? I took another look at the “keeping it real” photos. I admired them. If they could put themselves out there, I could too. I went back and purchased my photo.

For better or worse, this was me. A woman of a certain age. Uncropped. I had purchased a Road ID because I wasn’t immortal, upped my calcium intake because I wasn’t unbreakable, and rested more after long runs because I wasn’t unflagging. I learned the upside of hot flashes, heading out on cold, long runs like a surfer catching a wave. I reminded myself the photographer had asked me if I wanted to take the photo and I had said “yes” enthusiastically. I had chosen to have the photo taken. This was me.

February 16, 2014 - Austin Half Marathon

The Payoff for Winter

Time to prune my roses.  A February 15 ritual that signals spring is around the corner, for me anyway. Central Texas may have a few more freezes between now and Easter. There are warmer than cooler days ahead though. My roses know this. Their branches shoot out new leaves each day benefiting from my post run coffee grounds and banana peels the months before. My bird of paradise that I had been hauling inside and out during freezes, finally had a beautiful yellow and purple spathe jutting out from it—the first time it’s bloomed in four years. The milkweed was bunching up for the coming Monarchs. My over-wintering hummingbird was still slurping up my feeder nectar. Spring is shaping up to be the payoff for what I did in winter, yard-wise and running-wise.

Yesterday, I was churning up Congress Avenue, miles three through six, during the Austin Half Marathon. A gradual ascent; there were worse hills, this was the Hill Country after all. These 200 feet seemed to go on forever; especially when I could see all the participants moving up the hill in front of me. All the buoyant expectant conversation around me suddenly quieted in focused effort.  This was serious business. I was half way up the climb when I realized I hadn’t thought about stopping yet.  I checked myself. This wasn’t like me.  I wasn’t huffing and puffing as much or convincing myself walking up it would save my legs later. I wasn’t straining. I was striving. Those long weekend runs to campus and back the past few months were making a difference. Duval was making me stronger. I just hadn’t realized it. When I reached the section where the half marathoners turned back towards downtown and the full runners turned left, I asked myself if I could’ve gone left. Could I have gone farther?  Not today, I told myself, but it’s only 13 miles more if I train. Only 13 more miles? That’s a thought I haven’t had in years and a seed planted for future seasons.

Playing with My Food

Make good choices. This was the first January in a long time where my resolution wasn’t to lose weight. I wanted to feel better. I wanted more energy during my work day, and more energy at home for my running. I kept it simple, focusing on being three things this first month--- intentional, consistent, and enjoyable.

Be intentional.

 

I needed to run my race at my pace. I was a lay athlete as well as a corporate one and I needed energy to do both. I wasn’t dieting, I was fueling. I wasn’t exercising, I was training. Our sports nutritionist told me everything we put into our body has a positive or negative effect; so I focused first on what I was taking into my body.  I meal planned and included as many nutrient dense foods as I could. Planning wasn’t comfortable for this well-seasoned procrastinator. I set my bar low … just start, I told myself. I planned and shopped for a week at a time, concentrating on balance, portion size, and variety. I used the Weight Watchers app to help me track my progress. It helped me gauge portions and track what I was consuming. Sure, I paid for the app; but, it was more about accountability. Calories in and calories out. If I paid for it, I was going to use it; besides, I was a sucker for checking things off and smiley faces.

 

Be consistent.

I chose an eating schedule and stuck to it.  I always ate breakfast and never ate lunch at my desk. I included a piece of fruit and vegetables at every meal. At least half of every lunch and dinner plate was covered with vegetables. I noticed my energy maintained its level during the day and at night, and I also noticed my compost bin filling up with color. I was also consuming most of the produce I bought at the grocery store, nothing was spoiling.

Be enjoyable.

 

I bore easily, so, I couldn’t feel like I was depriving myself. One of my favorite scriptures is “oh taste and see the Lord is good.”  I needed variety and color. I never wanted to feel as if my eating was austere.  I was also a kinesthetic learner. I learned best hands-on. As I cut up and prepped my meals, I began enjoying the process more and more. My cuts were cleaner and more uniform. I liked playing with my food, much like that possum that explored my compost bin. I worked to make my meals, ‘gram-worthy? I asked myself if I’d like to share what my meal looked like. Sometimes, people would walk past my office and say that looked and smelled good; and, these were meat eaters.

There’s still much to work on to do. January is just one of month of twelve. Soon, the gym will be less and less crowded and all the January kick-start program enthusiasm will have faded. Mark Twain once said, “The secret of getting ahead is getting started.” I’m just getting started, making one good choice at a time.

Someday I'll wear pink again

“You’ve lost weight.” Normally, those are wonderful words to hear but, I was walking away from the person who said it. I appreciated the compliment. Really, I did. It meant that my training and fueling was paying off; however, those tiny, critical voices inside my head began to question, “What? Was I so huge before? When did the “wide load” sign come down?” Clearly, their intent and my impact didn’t match.
 

I can remember back when I first started running years and years ago. I was jogging around the neighborhood in pink cotton sweats. Remember, I said I was new. I ran angry and tight in those days. I was self-conscious. I met a blonde-headed boy, a pre-teen, on a bicycle coming the opposite way. I was going to move past him with my eyes towards the ground, focusing intently so I didn’t have to engage.  I thought I had it made, when he said, “it’s gonna take a lot of running to jiggle off that fat.” Then, he pedaled off blissfully down the street.  I finished my run, stunned that anyone would let whatever was on their mind, slip out from their mouth. I know I was the adult, but I sure wished I had pushed him off the bike. Strength training. That experience didn’t stop me from running, again and again; though I did adjust my route and I never wore those pink sweats again. Intent and impact. When they match, it’s a punch to the gut.
 

I never saw him again; however, that mental moment is still in my brain every time I slip on a pair of tights --- black of course, because they’re slimming --- or tank tops. It probably explains, with apologies to the Susan G. Komen Foundation, my aversion to pink and I’m always with people who want to wear pink. Hopefully, karma’s the bitch they say she is, if not, one day I’ll pull on a pair of pink tights or shorts in search that little boy on a bike, prepared with a snarky riff on Winston Churchill I wished I had used years earlier, “I can lose weight, but you’ll always be stupid.”

Commitment Day

This morning I popped open my first writing notebook of 2014. The notebook is a variation on a practice I read about in Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones. I buy a different notebook each month and fill it up with my thoughts and observations. I also note my runs and tape my race bibs in there. I read through the 2013 notebooks last night.

My year was like my running, up and down, and my writing entries showed it.

In 2013, I ran 425 miles and completed the AustinFit Magazine Distance Challenge; a series of six races (one ten-miler, two 10Ks, three half marathons) ending with the Austin Half Marathon; however, I rested after completing it and never quite got in gear again. Truthfully, I didn’t “feel” like doing anything; emotionally, physically, spiritually, or professionally. I was on autopilot most of the time. Guess what happens when you do nothing? Nothing. I wasn’t any closer to completing my ninth marathon. I wasn’t any closer to finishing any stories. I wasn’t any closer to losing weight.

Begin with the end in mind.

Stephen Covey writes that to be successful we must do that. My end is a different reading experience this time next year. I committed today, physically and symbolically, to making better choices in 2014 whether I feel like it or not. I ran the Commitment Day 5K this morning. It’s a nationwide, family-friendly New Year’s Day 5K Fun Run/Walk dedicated to starting a national conversation about living a Healthy Way of Life. I parked without blowing out a tire, so I was already way ahead of a month ago at the Thunderclouds Turkey Trot. It was a beautiful, crisp morning for over 1,000 of us. I finished it faster than any other 5K I’ve run for over a year. A good way to start off 2014.

Good choices have good consequences.

With today's race bib securely in my new notebook, I am committed in 2014 to taking lunch breaks, intentionally planning my meals, talking more kindly to myself, writing, hydrating, getting more sleep, having a consistent daily quiet time and completing a ninth marathon. Only 364 days to go!