Marathon confessions...

Bigger things

2012-01-31T18:10:00.002-07:00

For the past month, I have been in serious mope mode. Healing from the surgery that removed my gall bladder. Mourning the fact that even though I ran a marathon just 2 months ago, I'm no longer even close to being in marathon shape. Pouting because I gained weight as a result of all of this.

Me, me, me, me. Wah, wah, wah, wah.

And then I read this:

Virtual Run for Sherry Arnold- February 11, 2012

On January 7, 2012, my cousin Sherry, age 43, left her house in the small town of Sidney, Montana at 6:30 a.m. for an early morning run. She didn’t always run in the morning because as a teacher, it was often difficult to fit in runs before she headed to Sidney High School to teach math. January 7 was a Saturday, however, and Sherry had a bit more time to spare. After her run she planned to meet her sister, Rhonda, and head out to their parent’s ranch a few miles outside of town. Her husband, Gary, had gone for a walk at 5:30 a.m. and when he returned home he could tell that Sherry had already left for her run because of the toothpaste splatters in the sink and a light that was on in the kitchen.

Sherry often ran within the town limits and January 7 was no exception. When Sherry did not come home later that morning, however, her husband began to worry. He called the police and a search ensued. By 3:00 p.m. hundreds of volunteers were searching for Sherry and only one clue had been found, Sherry’s right Brook’s running shoe.

My aunt called to tell me that “something bad had happened in Montana.” As the details unfolded, a weight sat in the pit of my stomach. I hoped for the best, but feared the worst. Please find her. Please bring her home.

For several days there was no sign of Sherry. On the seventh day, a tip was received on the FBI’s tip line that led to the arrest of two men, one in North Dakota and one in South Dakota. One of the men confessed to killing Sherry. She had been abducted at 6:40 a.m., only about a mile from her house.

Sherry’s body has not yet been found.

Sherry’s traumatic and heinous death has shocked, angered and saddened her small community. On a much larger scale, it has also rocked the running world from coast to coast and abroad. How could something so random, violent and senseless happen to someone so giving, someone loved by so many?

We have so many emotions. As mothers, runners, and teachers, we fear it could have been us. Our hearts break for her students, her family, her community. We feel things we don’t know how to express and we cry for someone who we have never met. We hope she did not suffer and we hope that she found peace in her final moments. The human connection often feels deepest during tragedy. These past three weeks this connection has been alive, pulsing and powerful. The goodness has poured out of each and every one of you, demonstrating that good overpowers evil.

And suddenly everything fell into perspective. I have been in a very selfish state of mind.

On Saturday, February 11, 2012, I will be running in Sherry's honor. I don't care if it's slow or ugly. I don't care because I'm not running for me. I'm running for her. For all runners.

The truth is that this is something that could happen to any of us. Me. My sister. My cousins. My girlfriends. We all run. And yes- at times, we all run alone. I refuse to run scared, so instead, I'll run knowing that bad things happen, and when they do, the whole running community joins together and reminds me that there is more good out there than evil.

I hope you all join me on the 11th. Rest in peace, my sister in sweat. I hope your spirit blesses my running shoes as I move through the streets in your honor.

A Letter to Myself

2011-12-29T09:39:00.002-07:00

Dear 2011 Me-

You are a badass. Four time marathoner. Super mom. Awesome sister. Incredible friend. You have a Master's Degree. You're Angie's daughter... Margie's niece... Ricardo's granddaughter. You have a legacy of strength and glory running through your veins.

Going forward, you are no longer allowed to settle for ANYone who can't keep up with you, love you, support you and push you to be more. Not in love. Not in friendship. Not anywhere. It's time to step up to the plate and hit your full potential.

I love you. Now go forth and kick some ass. Starting with your own.

Sincerely-~2012 You

New Years Resolutioners...,

2011-12-27T09:23:00.001-07:00

As a die hard gym rat, this time of year is bittersweet for me. Most
days of the year, when I get to the gym at 5:00am for my daily
workout, I know the gym will be more or less mine. I won't have to
wait, I can crank out a nice hard workout at my own pace.

This time of year, however, we KNOW we will see a huge onslaught of
resolutioners. You know... the people who will come to the gym GUNG ho to lose the weight and get in shape. You can pick them out of a lineup- shiny new gym clothes coordinated from head to toe... going BALLS out on everything they do. You just know that they won't be able
to walk for a week... and there will be hoards of them.

I try not to be judgmental. I know that four short years ago, the die
hard gym rats looked at me and scoffed. 251 pounds of pure resolution
madness. And like me, I know that some of them will actually be
successful in their resolutions. But more likely than not, most of
them will give up. Because it's hard to be healthy. It takes work to
be in shape and have a nice body.

*sigh* God grant me the strength to not push their coordinated butts
off of the machines I KNOW they will be hogging starting next
Monday...

NYC Marathon- quick and dirty

2011-11-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

Quick and dirty race recap (full version coming soon):

What started out as an amazing race- strong pace, perfect conditions- ended up being a race I finished with my heart.

Through mile 13, I was on pace to KILL my PR. At mile 13, I felt my right knee pop, and it was a struggle from then on.

The heat (who knew that 55 could feel so HOT!!) added another layer of craziness to the whole thing. I was drained from the sun, and exhausted from trying to ignore the growing pain in my knee. By mile 20 I was feeling overwhelmed and done. My knee was screaming at me to stop, and my head was considering it.

Thank God that my heart was having NONE of it. I pushed a solid run/walk pace for a few miles, then started running (slowly) again until mile 24.

At that point, the pain was intense and I wanted to puke. The crowds in Central Park were my saving grace along with knowing that SO many people I care about were watching me online. So I pushed. And pushed some more. And managed to finish in just under 5 hours.

NOT my best race. Not even close. NYC was hard in a way I NEVER expected. But I gave it my all, ran a race full of heart and determination, and finished with dignity and grace.

I'm disappointed, and yet... proud. Strange mix.

Highlights: The bridges. WOW. I am in love with the bridges. Brooklyn has some really cool neighborhoods. Manhattan... well. Yeah. The Bronx was REALLY cool- loved the salsa music and the families. I felt like I was home! And Central Park was really fun.
Overall a great race. But not one I am inclined to ever EVER want to do again. Marking this one off my bucket list. :)

Toeing the line

2011-10-31T07:20:00.003-06:00

This Sunday, I will be lucky enough to toe the line at the NYC Marathon. For those of you who have run a marathon, you know what I mean when I say there is NO feeling like it in the world. For those of you who haven't, let me enlighten you.

You wake up on marathon morning, stomach full of butterflies. Adrenaline pumping through your veins. The air feels lighter, the blood in your veins more rich.

You get ready, paying attention to the details. Glide. Deodorant. Every piece of clothing adjusted just right. You eat your first food of the day, begin to hydrate. Then you leave for the race.

And when you get there, the electricity in the air is tangible. The hum of tens of thousands of runners and their cheerleaders fills the air with an excitement that is like NO other. You snap pictures, talk with friends- and even if you're there alone, you aren't really alone because every runner there is a friend.

The national anthem is sung... and for me, it is a time when I cry and say my race prayer. The one I say before every race- big or small. The one where I ask God to give me the strength to see this through to the end with strength and dignity.

The first waves go off... you move steadily towards the starting line... towards your new destiny. Because every marathon changes you in some way, and you know that you won't be the same person at the finish line as you are at the starting line. The nervous energy continues to build as you move closer to the line. And for me, I find myself retreating into that place in my mind where my inner runner lives. I block out the world until it's just her and me. Every step moving me closer to that place where my strength lives.

And then, suddenly, it's your turn... and that line you've been flirting with for months as you train, is before you. You take that first step, and the journey begins all over again.

Toeing the line is like nothing else in this world. And Sunday, I am blessed enough to be able to do it again.

Finding time to train

2011-09-24T18:19:00.003-06:00

Sometimes, finding the topic for a blog post smacks me dead in the forehead... I got lucky and had my friends inspire this one. In the past few weeks, I've had several of my friends ask me how I find the time to train for a marathon with everything that's going on in my life.

The answer is easy.

And hard.

The truth of the matter is that I don't find the time to train. I FORCE the time to train. I make training a priority, and I don't bail on that or myself.

I train early in the morning. I train late at night. I train right after work. I train during lunch. I train anytime I can fit in the designated workout so that I don't disrupt my kids' lives, don't disrupt work, don't impede on anyone else. During the week, my usual workouts (as I get closer to the marathon) average 90 minutes to 2 hours. I run. I spin. I lift weights. I do yoga. I get massages. I push my body to its limits, and then I pamper it back again so that it forgives me enough to do the next round of testing. I push. And then I push some more. There is no passive about that... those kinds of workouts have to be forced into my schedule.

The exception to this rule is my long run. It's hard to 'fit in' a run that is 2-4 hours long... runs like that have to be scheduled in and they require a lot of help and support from the people in my life. It means that my kids have to be patient and know that our weekend activities are going to start later than they want. It means that I have to squash down my post-long run exhaustion and suck it up so that I can DO those weekend activities. But mostly it means that I am not doing this alone.

And let me mention... sometimes forcing it means forcing myself mentally too. I can't lie and say that I am jumping at the bit EVERY single time to do my scheduled workouts. Far from it. There are days where I just want to go home, put on a pair of yoga pants and a tee shirt, and veg under a warm blanket (especially now that the days are shorter, colder, and the food is more comfort styled). But giving in to that urge takes away from the goals I have set for myself. Faster marathons... running for life... keeping my mind and my body strong and healthy.

So there is the answer. I don't *find* anything... I make it happen.

*** A quick side note. To all of my friends serving both here and abroad, you have my sincere thanks and intense respect. I could never say it loud enough to resonate with the amount of appreciation I have for you guys risking your butts so that I have the freedom to run mine off. Mil gracias.

Looking into the future

2011-09-19T12:11:00.003-06:00

In just about six weeks, I will run the New York City Marathon... six weeks until I experience a race that I have wanted to do since I started running marathons. It's a landmark race. Iconic. Something so much bigger than just me.

I look at this picture, and my stomach fills with butterflies. The bridge. The people. The start of a journey I never thought I'd take through New York City.

It will be my first real time there... and what a way to do it. Intimately. Through her streets, with her people there cheering me on through each mile.

Do I have fears going in? Absolutely. The late start time has me wondering how I will fare through the middle part of the day, as opposed to my usual morning marathons. Will my mind be clear after 5 hours of waiting, or will I work myself into a frenzy of doubt and anxiety? Will my body be able to push out 26.2 after being awake that long? Will the weather cooperate?

And yet... at the end of the day, it will be the highlight of the second half of my year. Bookending my racing year on either end of the country has a symbolism to me that feels right. Capturing the crap of the rest of the year in the middle, and allowing the marathon to pull my pain and disappointment out of me... and leave it there with my sweat, tears and blood.

Oh yes. There WILL be blood. Blood pumping through my veins. Carrying my strength and endurance with me through the city like a weapon against the world. Carrying my pride with me to remind me that I earned this race. Carrying the blood of my family, my people with me, reminding me that I am not alone and I have them pushing me through the pain yet to come.

I'm ready for this. I'm excited to experience this. I can't believe it's already here. 3 more weeks of actual training, and then it's time to taper down to the race. Wow.

CO/NM Christmas (or other holiday) Card Fundraiser!

2011-09-07T20:07:00.005-06:00

Do you live in the Colorado front range, or in the Albuquerque area?

Yes??

Do you want your holiday cards to look better than THAT monstrosity?

Yes??

Well then, do I have a FUN-draiser for you!

As you know, the holidays are approaching fast... which means that the time to get your holiday card portraits taken is also coming fast!

How would you like a one hour photo session + 25 holiday cards?

You'd like that?? WELL!

I am raffling off 4, one-hour photo sessions with none other than moi as your photographer! This will also include 25 cards using the image of your choice, and all images (non water marked). And the best part? I will do your pictures on-site for you! (for Albuquerque people- I will be there the first weekend in October)... estimated value is $100 per session!

To be entered into this drawing, donate $10 or more between now and September 15th and let me know that you're donating to be included in this drawing. It's just that easy...

So what are you waiting for? GOOD pictures are expensive... here's your chance to win a session for a $10 entry!

Donate online, or email/call me to make other arrangements!

Donate HERE

Race weekend recap- Disneyland Half Marathon 2011

2011-09-05T19:25:00.009-06:00

I have to start by saying... I looked forward to this weekend for so long... and just like that- POOF- it's over. But at least it was a good one... one capped off by a solid half marathon. So, kiddies, let's recap this weekend- good, bad & ugly!

I got to California, and as is the norm, got my car, and made my way to lunch with one of my closest friends. Got to hang out with him for a few hours (way too short!), then hit the beach for some run time and time at the ocean. Unfortunately for him AND me, I had the first wave of the meltdown hit me hard, and the day didn't finish as happily as it started. *sigh* I pushed myself hard on a 75 minute run, and then stood in the ocean for a good hour and a half. Waaaaah.

Friday was better, and I started the morning with an easy run, some time in the hot tub, some time in the pool, and then hung with a friend again for most of the afternoon... and it was a laugh fest capped off with more than a few beers. Carb loading, right?? Right. :) That good time was MUCH needed, and it set my mind at ease... finally.

The race festivities started on Saturday morning with me heading over to the expo with another friend of mine (who worked the iFitness booth). I made a few new friends in the line waiting to get my bib, which you'd THINK would have helped me.... but by the time I got my bib and goodie bag, the emotional meltdown that had been teasing me for several days kicked in, and kicked in good. I tried sticking around the expo to meet one of my friends, and couldn't do it... I ended up running back to my (very sexy convertible Eclipse) car- tears flowing. Uggggh. There is something about racing that brings the pain to the surface, and I ended up crying off and on the rest of the day.

Thank GOD for my friends- the one on the phone who listened to me cry, the ones who gave me hugs in person, and the ones at the carb load dinner that made me laugh hard enough to forget the tears for a few hours:

Once I got back to where I was staying, I quickly answered a few emails, laid out my race gear, and crawled into bed. Where I laid most of the night, my body buzzing like my nerves were connected to a power outlet. It was a weird feeling, and every hour or so, I found myself checking my phone's alarm to make sure it was set for the right time. Ugggggh.

Finally, at 3:00, I got up, showered, and got dressed. Ran into the kitchen, munched a banana, and then laid back down to wait for my friend to get ready. That ended up being the smoothest part of the morning. We ended up running really late, got her baby to the sitter, then got to Disneyland 20 minutes before the race, where I had to race (hahaha) to find a porta potty. Notice what's missing here? Yep. Any mention of a real breakfast or Gatorade. None. Nada. I had some SmartWater and a tube of ShotBlox on our way over, and THAT, my friends *was* my pre-race fuel......

After the porta potty stop, we made our way to the corrals, where I was supposed to be in Corral B... 15 minutes before the race? Yeah right. I couldn't make it past the mass of humanity that thought Corral C was THE place to be. I looked around me and realized that the race was NOT going to start off the way I wanted it to.

The pre-race fireworks and stuff was fun, and before I knew it- BANG, it was time to run.

And that's when my emotions shut off, the music began flowing through my veins, and I let my training take over. One by one, I began picking off runners/walkers. Well. Sort of. Getting through THAT many people had more than one slow moment... and there were times when I was doing just more than a slow jog. That was okay though... and I let myself enjoy the park. Smiling at the Disney characters as they appeared. Smiling as I remembered being at Disney just a few weeks earlier with my daughter... just... smiling. And suddenly, we were out of the park- running through the streets of Orange County.

And my GOD did the people come out in full force to cheer us on. Young, old, flamenco, hula... you name it, they were out there, and it was a beautiful thing to see. The miles began to fly by, and before I knew it, I saw the mile 6 sign that signaled me to eat my first gel. Had I really been running for more than an hour? Wow. I pushed my pace harder at this point- a new PR was within reach and I wanted it badly.

At mile 9, however, I reached down to take my second gel... when I realized that it was GONE. NO!! An insufficient breakfast, and then losing the only food I had on the course?? I pushed the fear out of my head and pushed a little harder... and before I knew it, I was in Angel Stadium on the jumbotron! How freakin' cool is that? And even better? They had gels for us as we ran in! Sweet baby Jesus, thank you!

At mile 12, I hit a bit of a wall when I realized that I had to pee. And not a little, but enough to make me stop and walk a bit to hold it in. That's when I realized that we were close to the park. Really close. Close enough that it was time to leave it all on the course, and push hard.

12.5, 12. 8, 13.0... DONE.

Not quite a PR, but a race I am very proud of. I was able to push past an emotional meltdown, not enough sleep, and no race morning breakfast to come within 2 minutes of my old PR.

PR (Surf City '11): 2:07

Disneyland Half: 2:09

Pretty bling, huh? :)

Lessons were learned. I know where I need to train so that NYC is a solid marathon.

I do have one question though. Any ideas on how I can stop having these horrible meltdowns before my races? I have a feeling if I don't get my crap together, that this negative, bummer girl that I become is going to mess stuff up... :(

Being a fat kid...

2011-08-19T11:53:00.003-06:00

I've been very open in here about being a fat kid. I need to dig up pictures of me during that time in my life. I do, because that time still effects me to this day.

I have a vivid memory in my mind. I couldn't have been more than 12 years old. I had a pot belly. A BAD mullet haircut. Huge plastic framed glasses. Puberty was in full force, and I had acne. And I was in the midst of my first real crush on a boy. At the time, I thought he was God's answer to what a 12 year old boy should look like. And in that innocent way that kids have, I told him how I felt.

And the look of horror on his face is burned into my heart to this day. I heard the next day at school that he couldn't believe a fat girl was into him.

A fat girl. There it was. Finally spoken out loud. Never mind that I was smart or funny. Never mind that my friends and family loved me. In the eyes of the boy that I desired, I was a fat girl.

From that day forward, no matter what I saw in the mirror, the image of that mulleted, bespectacled fat girl always seemed to be peeking back at me. Whispering to me that I wasn't pretty enough, thin enough or good enough for whatever it was that I wanted at that juncture of my life.

Was he wrong? No. Because I WAS a fat girl. But I was also a girl. One with a fragile ego shifting from childhood innocence to adolescent uncertainty. And the realization that not only was I fat, but the whole world saw it too was crushing.

A few years later, I ran into that boy again. I was 14 at that time, and had just finished my first season of track. The glasses were gone. The hair was long and curly. And the baby fat had been melted away by months of intense running. And while it was vaguely satisfying to deny him at that time, it was also a reminder that a girl's value is very much balanced on her physical appearance. After all, I was still that same girl on the inside...

Why do I confess all of this? Because somewhere, right now, there is a little girl who is overweight, with bad hair, pimples and glasses (or braces, or whatever)... and if her ego hasn't been smacked down yet... it will be soon.

I run this next full marathon in the hopes that we can find her before her ego is crushed. Teach her to run. Teach her that she is strong and beautiful. Teach her that she is capable of so much more.

Fat Alicia? I am doing this for you, mi'ja....

Running is fun again.

2011-08-15T19:28:00.003-06:00

This is a rare thing for me. My next race is 3 weeks away (actually, just SHY of three weeks)... and the NYC Marathon is 12 weeks away.

Normally, by this point in my training, running is becoming a bit of a chore. The longer runs making my day feel short, and my legs feel old. I miss the time at home. The time with my babies. The time... period.

This training cycle, however, feels different. I'm having a lot of fun with my training, and as a result, I'm seeing myself getting faster... stronger. And I'm not hurting in the process.

I find myself looking forward to my runs. Crying over the ones I miss (like tonight... damned summer cold...). I've been stopped twice now by random guys to compliment my smile while I'm running. I smile when I run?? Wow!

I'm finding that by being less brutal to myself (I'm not trying to PR every single run), and letting my body rest (shhhh, sometimes I spin instead of run to 'rest' my legs) and recover (actual recovery days... you know... where I don't exercise at all!).... the end result is amazing.

Maybe I'll never Boston Qualify. Maybe I will. But either way, as long as running is still fun, I hope that I'm still running, still 'racing' well into my old age. And I hope I'm still meeting up with so many of you at those races... playing and having fun, like we're still little kids. Because if it's not fun, then what's the point? :)

Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game.

~Michael Jordan

Revisiting this...

2011-07-25T15:39:00.000-06:00

I have thunder thighs

And that's a compliment

Because they are strong

and toned

and muscular

and though they are unwelcome

in the petite section

they are cheered on in marathons

fifty years from now

I'll bounce a grandchild on my thunder thighs

and then I'll go out for a run

just do it

My shoulders

aren't dainty

or proportional to my hips

some say they are like a man's

I say, leave men out of it

They are mine

I made them

In a swimming pool

Then I went to yoga

and made my arms

just do it

My Butt is Big

and round like the letter C

and ten thousand lunges

have made it rounder

but not smaller

and that's just fine

it's a space heater

for my side of the bed

it's my ambassador

to those who walk behind me

it's a border collie

that herds skinny women

away from the best deals

at clothing sales

my butt is big

and that's just fine

and those who might scorn it

are invited to kiss it

Just do it

My Hips

Return to Puberty

When I'm in dance class

making them crazy

and sportaneous

and optimistic

and prone to drama

and I don't understand them

and sometimes they

don't understand themselves

when the music stops

they're still charged

don't touch me

sparks will fly

just do it

My knees

are tomboys

They get bruised and cut

every time I play soccer

I'm proud of them

and wear my dresses short

My mother worries

I will never marry

with knees like that

But I know

there's someone out there

who will say to me:

I love you

and I love your knees

I want the four of us

to grow old together

just do it

My legs

were once two hairy sticks

that weren't very good at jump rope

but by the time I reached the age of algebra

they had come into their own

and now in spin class

they are revered

envied for their strength

honored for their beauty

hairless for the most part

except that place the razor misses

just behind the ankles

just do it

July (into August) drawing!

2011-07-23T18:11:00.004-06:00

I have been a horrible slacker. Have I really NOT posted a blog since I posted the July gift basket?? (by the way, congrats to Gaye for winning it!!)

Uggggh. For what it's worth, I HAVE been running. So the slacking is just with the blogging. I'll take my ten lashings now. :) It's time for the July (into August) drawing though! And to make up for my slackery (is that a word??).... it's going to be half off the normal entry price!

Yep. So anyone who donates $5 or more through August 14th will be entered into the drawing.

What, you say?? Can that be so??

IT IS!!

So what are you waiting for? Donate your $5 and get yourself entered into this drawing! It's a SWEET deal (literally... sweet wine and some yummies!)

(YOU MUST BE 21 YEARS OF AGE OR OLDER AND ABLE TO PROVE IT TO ME TO ENTER THIS DRAWING!!)

WINE, sweet WINE!

1 bottle of 2009 Pacific Rim Sweet Riesling (Columbia Valley)

1 bottle of 2009 Cupcake Vineyards Red Velvet

1 jar of Blackberry Serrano Preserves

1 box of Cracked Pepper Crispbread

1 bar of Moonstruck Milk Chocolate Mayan

1 wedge of Uniekaas Robusto cheese

Donate HERE

Fundraiser #1: Gift basket!

2011-06-06T21:59:00.002-06:00

For those of you who have ever been to New Mexico, you know the flavors are unlike any other in the world. For those of you who have never been there, here's your chance to sample some of the flavors that make my home state so amazing.

Everyone who donates $10 or more from now until the end of June will be entered into a drawing to win a taste of New Mexico gift basket!

Basket Includes:
A bottle of Pistachio Rose wine from the Heart of the Desert vineyard in Alamogordo, NM
2 packages of New Mexico style beef jerky- red & green chile flavored
A bag of New Mexico roasted Piñon nuts
A bag of New Mexico Piñon coffee
A jar of Sadie's salsa from Albuquerque, NM
A package of New Mexico red chile pods
A package of New Mexico chamomile tea (manzanilla!)
A New Mexico recipe book (trust me, it's amazing stuff!)
And finally... a UNM hat, just to show your Lobo pride. ;)

So what are you waiting for? Click the link, donate $10 (or more! wink, wink) between now and June 30 and voila! You're entered into the drawing. (It's JUST that easy! ... sorry... had a Billy Mays moment. :D)

http://www.runwithtfk.org/Member/PublicPage/5503

New beginnings...

2011-05-31T20:02:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I officially kicked off my training season for the New York City Marathon. I can't lie- the excitement lit a fire in my belly. I looked at my schedule for the week and while it made me a bit nervous, it also made me smile.

I've missed actual training. Missed the discipline of knowing that I HAVE to run. And the really awesome thing is that not only do I have to, but once again I WANT to. The break robbed me of my endurance, but in return, it gave me the gift of a renewed love of my sport.

My legs are fresh. My mind is clear. And true to my promise, I'm doing all of my runs outside- no more treadmill runs. I've been exploring the trails by my house. Focusing on form and not speed (not yet). It's humbling to go so slow and still fight to finish. I did 5 miles today and found myself walking a few seconds here and there after 3.5 miles. Heat. Hills. Happiness.

Exploring is fun. It keeps me from focusing on the pain of getting back in shape. I'm stopping to take pictures. Stopping to enjoy what is in front of me. It's amazing what you see when you look.

New marathon. New beginning. I like it.

Mind f*ck

2011-05-23T20:11:00.002-06:00

I think I've bemoaned my miserable LA Marathon to death. We all know it sucked for me (ok, and 24000 other runners)... we all know my calf tweaked, screamed, and threw a tantrum. A six week long tantrum. We all know I kinda took a wild month.

And now I'm paying. Dear Lord, I'm paying. I'm now 8 pounds heavier than I was on March 21st. I've only ran about 7 or 8 times since then. And now that I'm actually starting to get serious about running again, I'm finding that it's hard. Not a little bit hard, but HARD. My asthma is adding to the fat fun, and I feel like a newbie.

My mind is telling me that my full marathon was only 2 months ago, and I should still be able to run like a marathoner... unfortunately, my body is barely at the 5k stage. It's annoying. It's frustrating. But mostly... it's humbling. It really is a mind f*ck. I know that I'll be back sooner, not later... but I can't lie and say that this stage is fun. This really is harder than learning how to run was the first (second, third, fourth) go round... I've started over before... I know I can do this.

But dammit... I'm sick of having to keep re-starting. I want to do this right, and I wish I knew how.

Shape-Ups for Girls...

2011-05-15T18:13:00.003-06:00

This morning while watching Nickelodeon with my girlie, I saw an extremely disturbing commercial... Shape-Ups for Girls.

Think about that for a second. Shape-Ups for KIDS?!?! WHAT THE F*CK?!?! Have we really gotten there as a society? To the point where we don't encourage our kids to get out, play, run and exercise... no. Instead we offer them shape-ups, hand them a diet coke and call it good.

We all know there is a serious obesity epidemic in our country, and that our kids are smack dab in the middle of it. As a recovering chubster, I get it. I get it more than I wished I got it. But at the end of the day, the doctors are right. There is ONE way to lose weight- take in less calories than you burn. Period. (yeah yeah- I get that there are thyroid disfunctions and insulin resistance- I have both... so I DO get it... but they are hurdles, NOT walls.)

How can we simultaneously market Reece's Puffs and Happy Meals to our babies, and then feign shock when they end up profoundly overweight? At what point do we look at ourselves as parents and admit that WE have to man up and fix this?

It makes me sad, really and truly sad to see what we (collectively) are doing to our kids... for the first time in a VERY long time, our kids have a shorter lifespan than we do. NOTHING tastes that effin good, people.

Shape-Ups aren't the way to do it. Get these kids moving again. Put them on their bikes. Play tag. SOMEthing. Give them a veggie or two. Go buckwild and give them some fruit. Lean meat. And for the love of all that is good and holy... put the damned twinkies away for a few days a week.

Shape-Ups for Girls. What. The. Hell.

Charity runner... again! :)

2011-04-27T20:56:00.004-06:00

Team for Kids- NYC Marathon 2011!

Paying a karmic debt. I'm a closet hippy. I like giving back. Life is bigger than just us... call it what you will, but I think it's important for us to do something for the world at large. What better way than to combine my love of helping people with my love of running?

So... once again, I'm asking for your support. Help me reach my goal- $2620.00. No. Help me EXCEED my goal. Let's see what a group of runners can do if we all work together.

Like before, I'll have give-aways and other fun things to *entice* you into donating a buck or twenty. :) Like before, my big donors will end up with their names on my body. I don't do this alone... and like any good sponsors, you deserve 'face time'. :)

Here's my 'official' letter. I hope you find this as worthy as I do. :)

Hola my beloved gente!

Each year I do one marathon for charity. This year, I’ve decided to run the 2011 ING New York City Marathon for Team for Kids and I am asking for your support of their AMAZING mission.

As most of you know, I was a fat kid... and I grew up to be a fat adult. I've battled it for most of my life, and running saved my life. This is a cause near and dear to me, and I hope you'll help me do my part to help even ONE kid from going through this.

Team for Kids is a team of volunteers who raise funds for critical services provided by New York Road Runners Youth Programs. These programs combat childhood obesity via running and character-building programs in low-income schools and community centers in New York City, throughout the country, and in South Africa.

Helping me reach my goal is easy! You can click on the Donate button on this page to give through my secure fundraising site. You can also find information there about where to write a check, or how to get your company to match your gift! All contributions are tax-deductible.

Your donation helps New York Road Runners Youth Programs to:

Serve over 85,000 children in more than 400 schools and community centers with FREE programs.

Reach children of all fitness levels and athleticism, with a heightened focus on reaching out-of-shape and overweight kids with little or no athletic experience.

Prevent overweight or obese children from eventually suffering heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, and other chronic illnesses that lead to health-care costs in excess of $100 billion annually.

Whether you are a runner, have worked with children, or have kids yourself, I hope you will join me to give a kid a chance to grow up healthy!

Thank you... it means more to me than you could ever know!

~ Alicia ♥

Team for Kids- NYC Marathon 2011!

It's not running, but...

2011-04-17T19:26:00.004-06:00

I think we all know that I love running. Doing other things feels a lot like I'm cheating on my beloved... it's something I don't want to do, and yet... I can't help it. I have to.

Three consecutive marathon training cycles has proven to be a bit much for my legs. My calves are painfully agonizing still... a month after the LA Marathon. My knees buckle after 5 mile runs. I'm sore for days after my runs. My PT says that it will pass, but more rehab work is needed... and less running is required to get there. Hearing that last week left me wrecked. Broken and sad. I had to back out of a race I wanted to do... more than I was admitting.

So... one of my best friends told me to take advantage of this time and do the other things I enjoy, but can't do when I'm in training mode...

The biggest of those? Hiking. I put it on the backburner before San Diego last year for fear of injuring myself. (Ha... the irony is stunning...)

Yesterday I took my daughter and niece up to Boulder for some fun on the trails. And I remembered why I love it so much. Ahhhh... it was amazing.

Today my legs were sore though... so, we hopped on our bikes and rode it out in the Garden of the Gods.

I'm a lucky girl. Colorado is nice. It's not California... but as you can see... it will do until I can get to the Golden Coast. :D

I guess not running will have a perk or two. For now...

Gracias

2011-04-06T22:19:00.004-06:00

Keep smilin', keep shinin'
Knowin' you can always count on me, for sure
That's what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I'll be on your side forever more
That's what friends are for

It's been two weeks since the LA Marathon. And until yesterday, I was *sure* I had escaped the post-marathon funk. I was laughing. I was having fun. For once, there was no letdown cloud hovering around. Yay, right?

Yeah right. *Boom*... yesterday.. the day from hell. Then another rough one today... and to add insult to injury... I locked my keys in my car *both* days. Yes. You read that right. Locked my keys IN. A nice little $40 mistake that left me wondering if early senility is starting to set in.

So... suddenly, I'm not feeling so hot. I melted down a hair yesterday. And felt it coming on again today.

But the full out funk didn't happen. Not today.

Why? Because one of my good friends dragged me from the edge of funky town and forced me to laugh at the absurdity of the past few days. Pointed out just how ridiculous it all really was. And pointed out that before the marathon, I made a promise that I wouldn't have a dramatic meltdown like usual.

A promise. I don't take those lightly and this friend knows it. So pointing it out to me was a reality check. Was it really worth a meltdown? Worth an ass kicking (which is the stated consequence of any drama pulled...)? Worth an argument that would add to an already shitty week?

No. No it isn't. And it really IS funny in retrospect... though I never would have seen that on my own. Nope. My M.O. is to freak out, go straight for the drama, have a meltdown, pick a fight and be a complete bitch. It's a good thing I'm only like that a few times a year...

So, to my dear friend, thank you. And yes- I AM laughing at my bimboness these past two days. Let's hope I don't go for the trifecta. If I do, I will gladly don the Peg Bundy costume and strut around LA in it on my next trip out...

I was put in my place... and I'm glad... but hey, that's what friends are for, right?

LA Marathon 2011

2011-03-23T08:11:00.003-06:00

There are some races that you just know will eventually become the stuff of legends. The 2011 LA Marathon is one of those races.

I should have known I was in for a treat when we got to the Expo on Saturday morning, and encountered a ZOO of people... just as we got there, the 5K was finishing up, and not only was parking a nightmare, but fighting upstream against the finishers was... ah... fun. Luckily, once we got in, we were in and out within 30 minutes- and that included getting GUs and stuff. Not too shabby!

Sunday rolled around way too quickly. As soon as I got up, I realized that it had rained overnight, and that we were probably in store for more rain. Since I ran the Nike Women's Marathon in the rain, I wasn't overly concerned- especially since LA is so much warmer than San Francisco... famous last thoughts.

We got to the shuttles early- like 4 am- and it was already chilly... and starting to sprinkle off and on. Luckily, we were able to hop on a bus quickly and nap on the way to the stadium- and in hindsight, I was grateful for the rest. I don't remember walking into Dodger Stadium- but I do remember being excited to finally be there. Something very cool about just being in the stadium... even if it was 'cold'.

As the first waves of runners took off, the rain started up again. Big, fat, juicy drops. It didn't seem like it was going to get out of control, so about a mile in, I took off my gloves and overshirt and ran in my tank top and tights. I regretted this move for the REST of the race.

Miles 1-4

Within 20 minutes of starting the race, the rain was falling aggressively. I was still maintaining my goal pace, however, and despite being cold and wet, I was feeling pretty good.

At mile 4 we hit the killer hill that I had been dreading- and as promised, it wasn't nearly that bad. By this point I was feeling strong and like my goal was attainable. I was pushing steadily, and I was having a good time, even with the rain falling around me.

Miles 5-10

By this point in the race, the reality of what I was undertaking was starting to hit me. 26.2 miles... and with the rain and wind gaining in intensity, the task was beginning to feel a bit overwhelming. My shoes were wet, my arms were cold, and I was starting to wonder why I actually paid to endure this hell. The only comforting thought was that 24,000 other crazies did the same thing and were pushing through the misery with me. I can remember seeing a billboard sign for someone named David and thinking it was cute... until I realized it was reminding me how FAR I still had to go. Eff you, David.

At mile 7, I twisted my left ankle for the first time. It wasn't enough to stop me, but it was enough to wake me up and realize that I was zoning out from the cold- NOT a safe thing to do!

One thing I have to give MAJOR kudos to though were the Orange people. The ones giving out oranges along the course. I never knew fruit could be so amazingly, tantalizingly good. I don't think any oranges I will ever eat going forward will have that same crack-like appeal as the course oranges did.

Miles 11-17

At mile 11, I twisted my left ankle for the second time. This time it did hurt, and I hopped along for a few steps, cursing loudly and crying. To the SRLA kid who thought I was cussing him out- I'm sorry. It wasn't you. It was me. Blah blah blah.

By mile 13, the twisted ankle was forgotten when I saw my friend Cindy on the course. She ran about 1/2 a mile with me, encouraging me and reminding me that I was still on pace to hit my goal. Her love pushed me through the mini-hump I was starting to hit.

Around mile 14, my right shin screamed loudly. It was enough to make me limp, and cry out. I thought I had stress fractured my ankle, and I focused my attention on the leg to see if the pain was enough to make me stop. It wasn't, but my pace dropped from mid 10's to high 11's. I was mortified, but was unable to fight my body to do more.

By mile 17, the cold was starting to make me woozy. My head felt heavy and swimmy, and the skin on my arms was almost agonizing to the touch. I wanted off of the course, and only the sheer will to finish what I started kept my legs moving. For the first time in my life, I considered DNFing the race.

Miles 18-24

By this point in the race, the weather was ferocious. The winds were strong enough to keep pushing me off track, and the water was flooding so badly that I was calf deep in places. I know we ran through Rodeo Drive at this point. I know it, and yet... I don't remember any of it. All I remember is thinking that I wanted an In n Out burger desperately and that the skin on my arms was about to fall off. I walked for the first time in this range of miles, and that was my kiss of death. Once I started walking, I was powerless to stop. I'd run for 6 minutes, walk for 2, and repeat. Over and over. In my mind I knew that walking was keeping me out there longer, but the pain in my shin was too intense to do much about it.

At mile 24 I saw the last of the mile markers and knew I was close. The spectators kept telling me to keep moving, that it was all downhill to the finish, but the rain and cold had me so whipped that I didn't even care. At this point, the dizziness was overwhelming, and I was starting to get disoriented. I knew I was running a marathon, but I couldn't remember where I was.

Miles 25- 26.2

By mile 25 I knew that I wouldn't be setting a new PR for this race. My only goal was to finish, though I wanted to go under 5 hours. After the mile 24 marker, I didn't see anymore signs, and it was disorienting me further. How much further to the end? People kept telling me it was around the bend, and I knew at this point that I was weaving from side to side and doing what can only be called an old-man shuffle. Not really a run, not really a walk.

I can honestly say I have never wanted off of a course as badly as I wanted off of that one by the end.

I remember crossing the finish line and having a guy cover me with several mylar blankets. Someone put a medal on me and congratulated me. I walked aimlessly, allowing the flow of the crowd to propel me. I was shivering violently, and I was feeling a bit confused. I remember asking someone where my car was.

The rest of it

I know the walk to my car was brutal. The rain and wind were still attacking without mercy. There were runners curled up in doorways crying and shaking. (I wanted to join them.) The runners not curled up looked like zombies walking around Santa Monica. Heads down. Shoulders slumped. It was a scary sight.

It took me almost 45 minutes to walk the 1.5 miles back to my car. I was splashed. I was cold. I was miserable. And I wanted to die.

The bad

My two complaints about the race were at the end of the race. One- there were NO signs to guide us back to our cars. Given our confused state, this was really not good. Second- as cold as we all were (thousands were treated for hypothermia!), there should have been shuttles to get us from the finish line back to the parking areas. Seriously.

The obvious other bad was the weather. I had NO idea it could be that cold in LA. And I hope to God I never have to experience California cold again!

The good

LA Marathon? Your volunteers and cheerleaders are among the best I've ever seen in ANY race. They were braving the storm with us, and got none of the glory... they are the true heroes of the day.

The course was GORGEOUS. I loved it. It was a chance to see LA in a way that I won't see again for another year. I fell in love with the city again.

The verdict

As miserable as the conditions were. As cold as I got on the course. As sick as I am now. As much as my shin hurts............ it was worth it. I loved it. Loved the experience. I was strong enough to finish it. This was by FAR the hardest, most brutalizing race of my life. It left me battered, sick, injured. It pulled the desire to run for a little while out of me.

That said... there are only 361 days until LA Marathon 2012! It took a lot out of me... but I can't WAIT to do it again.

Spoken like a true runner. And for anyone who was strong enough to do LA 2011, there is no doubt of your status as a runner. A badass one at that. :)

Life's lessons...

2011-03-08T18:01:00.004-07:00

Six and a half years ago, I gave birth to a gorgeous, healthy baby boy. Our world was full of promise for what he might be. Those dreams that we parents all have for our kids. Fourteen months later, those dreams were stolen from us when he had a choking accident. In five minutes he went from completely healthy, to completely disabled. Dreams, shattered. World turned upside down.

For years I wallowed in self pity. Eating myself to death. Hiding from the world. Acting like the accident had happened to me, when the reality is, it happened to him. As I wallowed, my son made amazing improvements. He got stronger. Defied the doctors. Did things we were told he couldn't do. He embraced his life as I hid from mine.

It's five and half years later. And as you all know, I took control of my life three years ago. I started running. I lost a lot of weight. I began to embrace my life instead of hiding from it. I learned how to run. Made my body and mind strong. I made the conscious decision to be happy. Because let's be honest, depressed or happy- at the end of the day, my life is what it is. And *both* of my kids deserved a mom that was alive and engaged. I deserved it too.

Today, I did something I haven't dared to think about since before the accident. Today, I registered my son for Little League. Yeah, it's the Challenged League, but it's *baseball*... AJ's favorite sport in the world. My son looked at his limitations and shrugged. And when he takes the plate for the first time, his smile will light up the universe.

Despite being in a wheelchair. Despite being told he 'can't' do anything, he's doing a lot. He's learning to walk. He's learning to use the computer to talk. He's an amazing soul whose very being would light up your universe. And next month, he will officially be a baseball player. There's a lot we can all learn from that. We all have our challenges... but really, we have no excuse not to be exactly what we want to be. It's amazing what you can learn from our kids... the ones who don't know yet that limitations are supposed to stop us.

As my daughter told me last week... why stop dreaming when you're awake?

Eff you, asthma!

2011-03-07T17:17:00.003-07:00

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it here before, but I have asthma. Since I started running, it's gotten a lot better, but every now and then it acts like that psycho ex-lover you have and just shows up unannounced.

That day for me was yesterday. I think it was a combination of the long distance, dehydration and extremely cold air, but late in my run, I felt my chest tighten up in that old familiar embrace.

Hugs are nice. Internal hugs from your lungs suck. No really... they suck- the air out of you.

Unfortunately, I didn't recognize it for what it was, and I just pushed through it by doing run/walk intervals for a few miles. And I finished the (brutally hard) 20 mile run.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized what was going on... mostly because I could HEAR the wheezing without my music pumping. I hit my inhaler hard and stole a breathing treatment from my son. Nada. Took a steam bath. Nada.

All night and into today, nada nada nada. Just a scary feeling of not being able to catch my breath. I'm all for playing hard to get, but NOT with my breath. Sheesh.

I finally got some liquid albuterol from my doc... and voila. About an hour ago, I was finally able to take a deep breath.

I have 2 weeks to get this under control. 2 weeks to relax and just breathe. And 2 weeks to remember that LA is at sea level- thank you God for that...

Confessions of a music loving runner...

2011-02-21T19:00:00.006-07:00

I am a girl in love. Deeply and powerfully in love. My ears have been rocked (literally) by my new headphones, and like anyone with a new lover, I want to tell the whole world about the object of my affection.

Let me start with what I've tried in the past... and why they couldn't hold my love.

Like most iPod users, I started with the basic earbuds... only to discover that my ears are entirely too small for them. I pushed. I twisted. I shoved. I cried. Nothing worked. I felt defective... unable to share in the earbud love. I wish I could review them for sound quality... but alas... my mini ear holes never got there...

So I searched... and stumbled upon the headphones that would hold my affection for many years... many miles... and many races...

The Nike Flight headphones. These beauties worked really well. Behind my head, and into my ears- they never slipped, and were undetectable through 26.2 miles. I really did love these babies. So, why did I leave them then? Sound quality. While they stayed nicely in place, the sound quality was less than stellar. Just... ok. Which, for the casual music lover is probably enough. Sadly, however, they are no longer on the market. Not that I've been able to find in the past 6 months (thank you amazon.com for having a few pairs a few months ago...).

I, however, love music. No really, I LOVE music. I listen to it at least 12 hours a day almost daily. I blip music. I gift it to my friends. I review it for other friends. I think music is the soundtrack of our lives. Without it, my soul would dry up.

Get it? Yeah. That's how much I love it.

So... a few months back, a good friend of mine told me about the new Beats by Dre collection of headphones. He raved on them, and told me to get to Best Buy ASAP to trial them out. Specifically to try out the PowerBeats sports model.

I remember thinking- yeah, sure, ok. They're headphones for working out... really? How good could they possibly be?

They are THAT good. Seriously. The sound quality is phenomenal. But... until this past week, I couldn't tell you how they performed on the road... which really, is the true test of a 'sport' headphone.

I got the over the ear variety (again, little ear holes mean I can't use the in-ear option). White and red (because I like them... they're pretty! And let's be honest... if I'm going to spend $150 on headphones, they damn well better look and perform up to my standards.)

Test run #1... an easy 5 mile run. The music quality was amazing... and even better, the headphones didn't bounce and didn't make that annoying 'thump thump thump' sound that ill fitting headphones can make. I bounced my head. Shook it side to side like an idiot... and no movement. Sweet eargasmic joy- they worked!

But let's be real. I'm a marathon runner. And a successful 5 mile test run isn't really much of a test for me.... luckily, I had a long run scheduled last weekend, and knew I'd have a real chance to test them out.

Test run #2... a hard 18 mile run in the wind. I'll be honest, I expected that with the wind, there would be some movement or ambient sound. But... nothing! The only time they moved for me was when I accidentally caught my hand on the cord, and even then, they only moved a little. This was a hard run for me emotionally, and the sound of the music drowned out my breathing and crying- pretty impressive!

Beyond that... I love the adjustability (I know it's not a word... deal with it) of the PowerBeats. There are multiple 'tips' to customize the snug fit into your ear. The over the ear piece adjusts on rotation and squeezability to ensure a snug fit that's customized to your ears.

So there you have it. For me, the crowning moment was hearing Jam On It by Newcleus around mile 15 of my long run. The sound was so amazing that I felt like I was back in 1986... and half expected to see my baby brother break dancing with some cardboard... hmmm... maybe I can convince him to do that now. :)

Surf City Half Marathon

2011-02-07T06:16:00.004-07:00

First off, let me start off by saying that I love California. The palm trees, the ocean, the vibe, the sun!! It suits me, and it makes my heart so happy. I get a lot of questions about why I race so much out there... well, duh! If I can't live there, I'm going to be there as much as humanly possible!!

That said... on to the race/weekend recap!

The weekend was a blur of hanging out with friends and laughing a lot. Friday to Sunday, I was surrounded by people I like a lot, and it was perfection.

On Saturday, I went to Huntington Beach for the Race Expo. I have to say- I love expo's... they get me so pumped up to race. Even the lines don't bother me much because it's like a warm up to being surrounded by all the people on race day!

I got my bib, bag and shirt and then walked the beach for a while. (Did I mention I love the ocean??) (and a second side note... I LOVE the shirts from this race!!)

Saturday I could feel my race nerves building as the day went on until I was almost in tears by 8pm. When I get like that, my emotions boil out of control, and I tend to torment my friends with horrible emails. Rather than do that, I went to bed.

Sunday morning the nerves were still around. We got to the race site early, and I was able to meet up with some more friends... look! It's Ron aka PunkRockRunner!

I loved the people watching before the race (hellllllllo hot runner boys!!), and had some laughs as some icky perv guys tried to hone in on me and my friend Lauren. Um... no, thank you. :)

Finally got to my corral, and the tunnel vision set in. The day was cool and foggy, and I kept focusing in on the 2:10 pace sign. It seemed like such a huge goal, and I wasn't sure I was up to it.

The first part of the race was a blur until mile 4, the downhill was much appreciated, and that was when I pulled ahead of the 2:10 pacers and hit a steady rhythm with my pace. I was pretty consistent at a 9:46 through mile 10 and then I picked it up significantly. My legs and lungs felt good, and I knew the end was near....

At mile 13, my wheels fell off. I hit a mental wall and was done. I walked for about 10 seconds before I came to my senses and pushed hard to the end... and....

It was a 35 minute PR for me!! Yep- before yesterday, my 1/2 Marathon PR was a 2:42. I cried all the way to the beer tent. Happy, tired, flowing tears. I'm a big baby.

Cool medal, eh? The beer tent was fun- got to talk to some really cool strangers (but really, in the running world are any of us truly strangers?), slam down two beers (not my smartest idea on an empty stomach, in the sun and post race... hello instadrunk!).

My only complaint about the weekend was that it went too fast.

Thank God I'll be out again in six weeks... LA Marathon time!! :O

You take the good, you take the bad...

2011-01-19T22:12:00.003-07:00

Yeah, it's cliche, but there it is. Good and bad- that's just a fact of life. On Sunday I had a horrible run. Not horrible for its time- that was actually ok... but horrible for how it felt. My legs were lead filled. My shins hurt. My breathing was off. Nothing about the run meshed. At all.

I won't lie... I've been spoiled by an amazing training season so far. Run after run I've been setting new PRs, gliding along... feeling lithe and athletic. It's been an amazing experience for me.

And then one bad run, and BOOM! I'm back inside my head, doubting my ability to do this and wondering if I really have this in me.

Today was my first run since Sunday. I needed to take a break to rest my painful legs and clear the mud from my head. It didn't work. All day I was scared to run. And as the day went on the fear just got worse and worse, until I was in a near panic by 3pm. Thank God for my coach, and my friends A and R. They all managed to talk me down off of the ledge, and convince me to just enjoy the run. To let the pressure off of myself, and just run because I love it.

So I did.

And it was amazing! I didn't focus on time too much- though it was a progression run, so I did make sure to gradually increase my pace. I just put my music on and ran. Granted, it was a treadmill run (thank you, random nasty snow storm), but it was just... right. My legs felt strong, my breathing was steady, and my mind was clear. And amazingly enough, I ran hard. Fast. My pace was amazing for me!

So... yeah, lesson learned. Not every run will be amazing. And yes, the bad runs DO make you appreciate the good runs. And one bad run does NOT a bad season make... and every other motivational cliche you can imagine. But at the end of the day- I'm just grateful, once again, that I'm a runner.

Bring on Surf City, baby.

The Long Run

2011-01-09T15:09:00.003-07:00

This weekend, I hammered through this book. It should be required reading for all runners, but his story really spoke to me.

In short, Matty had an awesome life as a runner and Ironman, a fireman, and then one day, a traumatic accident stole it away from him. This book is his story.

For the past couple of weeks, my legs have been whining. The toll of 100 mile months (which for me, is a big deal) was starting to add up. I was physically tired, and the mental exhaustion was starting to creep in on me.

I wasn't going to read Long Run. But the recommendation of not one, but TWO of my friends pushed me over the edge. And once I started, I couldn't put it down. Suddenly, my journey from fat to fit seemed less impressive, but only because it was such a (comparably) easy journey. The pains from my training? Nothing to cry about.

So, today, I shoved it all down, and pushed off for a (short) long run. I didn't want to go. It was cold and snowy, and the comforts of home were pulling me sharply to stay. Beans and chile were simmering on the stove. A fire was roaring in the basement. Football on tv. Kiddos laughing and having fun. It took everything in me to go out and run in the cold.

But once I got out, I knew I had to push myself. Coach had set an aggressive goal of a 2:02 half marathon distance, and I was nervous. A few friends on twitter suggested that I could do a sub-2 half, and I have to admit, I laughed. Hard. Me? Sub 2? Uh... ok. Sure.

I was cruising along at a steady 9:30 for the first part of my run- on pace for my 2:02. At about mile 6, I pushed my first sprint- a 7:50 minute mile for half a mile. Over and over I alternated this pace with a 9:40-9:30 pace cool down. I lost track of the miles, and instead focused on the next interval, knowing that the time would pass much faster if I did.... and sure enough, by the time I did check my mileage, I was over 12.5 miles and closing in on my goal. I knew I was close to going sub 2, but unless I pushed HARD, it wasn't going to happen. So... I pushed. I pushed like I haven't pushed in a long run before. I pushed until my legs and lungs were screaming and I wanted to puke. And miracle of miracles- I went 1:59:59. Sub 2 hours by ONE second.

So, Matty Long? I doubt you will ever see this, but know that your story spoke to me, and pushed me like I didn't think I could be pushed. Thank you for that. Maybe someday, I'll have the courage to share my (and my son's) story too.

2010.... looking back.

2010-12-30T20:19:00.005-07:00

No picture for this blog. Why? Because nothing I could find would even come close to the amazing montage playing in my head right now. The swirl of people, races, faces, kisses, hugs, medals, and tears.

Wow... what a crazy ride this year has been. As I think back on everything that's happened this year, I can't help but be amazed at it all.

January... coming off of a freakish broken foot... and worried about the impact it would have on my training...

And then, I was blessed. I ran a 5k. Big deal, right? HUGE deal. It was my 7 year old daughter's first race, and I ran with her step by step. She cried. Wanted to quit. And in the end, ran through the finish line with her head held high. Inspired me to be strong. Stronger.

Then RAGNAR in the spring, and WOW what an awesome experience that was. 200 miles with 9 people I hardly knew... and then, amazingly, 9 new friends at the end of it all... and seeing LA/Orange County like that was unlike anything I could have asked for. And in my mind, an inkling that maybe, just I really was a runner.

Then the Colfax half marathon in Denver, and what a humbling experience that was... slow... painful... pukey. And yet... still, an amazing experience. Because even though I'm not proud of my time, I am proud of myself for not quitting, when walking away would have been so easy.

May... and with it, the Bolder Boulder... and meeting more amazing people... strangers in the beginning, and friends after 2 short days. Running through the streets of Boulder, and smelling the beer and bacon. :) Two days after a nasty allergic reaction to spider bites, and I wanted to die. Instead... I ran with Lisa and Sarah... and loved it. :)

June. Wow. June. San Diego. My first marathon. And meeting the people I wanted to meet more than I could ever say. From the minute I stepped off of the plane (California... knows how to party), to lunch in Orange County, to the Friday night meet up dinner and beach walk, to the Expo- and the beers afterwards, the walk to the race, waiting for the race, and then... the race. My first 26.2, and falling in love. With the distance. With the feeling it gave me. With... the marathon. June of 2010 will live in my heart forever.

Then the letdown after San Diego. A feeling unlike anything I've ever felt before. Ugly. Deep. Overpowering. And enough to make me wonder if I should even attempt a marathon again if that was how I would feel.

And I couldn't resist. Not even a little bit. I was accepted into the Brooks ID program, and in July, became a sponsored athlete. Me. Former fat girl. Slow runner. THAT girl in the mirror. Sponsored.

Then it was October... and time again to dance with 26.2 miles of fun. More people to meet. And a goal. A big goal that seemed so far out of reach. But mile by mile, I conquered my fears. My demons. The hurt. The love. I embraced all of it, and pushed past my goal to go sub-5 hours. Tears. And Tiffany. Wow.

And now, here we are, about to welcome a new year. New goals. And I can't help but wonder will 2011 even come close to the magic that was 2010? Surf City is 5 weeks out... and LA is 6 weeks after that. Ready or not, here we go... again.

Lisa, Sarah, Josh, Josh, Linda, Glenn, Glenn, Yasmine, Lori, Candy, JT, Eddie, Minerver, Row, Roberto, Andrea, Cindy, Nina, Dana, Gaye, Nicole, Maritza... more... so many more. I couldn't get you all in there. Meeting each of you impacted me in a different way... left a different mark. I'm a better person because of every one of you.

I'm a different person than I was this time last year. And the amazing thing is that I really like who I am today. Let's hope I like Alicia v2011 even more.

Why Do I Run?

2010-12-14T13:53:00.003-07:00

Every day, someone new asks me that question. Why. Why would you
voluntarily do that? Was someone chasing you? Are you crazy? Why, why, why?

Like most things that involve love, the answer to this isn't easy or
straightforward. Because the fact of the matter is that I *do* love
running. I love it with every fiber of my being. I love it like a fat
kid loves cake. I love it with an intensity that comes from the depths
of my soul.

Running isn't just something I do, it's who I am. My twitter name is
alitherunner, and that's not on accident. Because even when I was a
fat runner, I knew in my heart that I was a runner. That no matter
what else would pass in my life, running would be my constant. My
companion. My therapist. My trusted lover. When I'm having a horrible
day, running makes it better. When I'm having an amazing day, running
is the icing on top. No matter what is going on, I turn to running to
think it through. I depend on running to keep me sane. Keep me honest.
I can't lie to running- the miles will pull everything out of me and
thensome. You can't take shortcuts with running... you either run, or
you don't. But in the end, you get from it what you put into it.
Amazing...

Running has transformed my life. It has given me a new lease on life
through its health benefits. It's given me a new body. It's brought
people into my world that I would have never met otherwise. People
that I can no longer imagine my world without. I want to name them.
But I won't... needless to say, they know who they are... and if I'm
lucky, they know what they mean to me. The people who run with me
(literally and figuratively), the ones who cheer me on every day, the
ones who believe in my abilities, even when I'm not quite there yet.

Training for (yet another) marathon has solidified in my mind what
I've known in my heart for years- that I need to run. It's no longer a
matter of simply wanting to run (which in and of itself is amazing)...
it's that I need it. When I don't run, I'm cranky... sad... and very
sensitive. Everything (big and small) is amplified and feels
catastrophic. I pick fights with the people in my life. I mope. I'm
not a nice person to be around. Like an addict, I crave the endorphins
that running gives me, and they keep me floating along. It's a
physical need. Emotional. Spiritual. Running is one of the few places
in my life that I find God. It's my church. My communion. My
confessional. (catholic habits die hard...)

Why do I run? Because running is life for me. The bigger question that
I want to ask these people is why DONT they run?

Searching for balance...

2010-11-21T19:11:00.004-07:00

Life is anything but tame these days. Between work (which is blowing up), home (which is blowing up), family (which is blowing up) and training for the LA Marathon (which is holding steady)... I feel like that elephant on the tightrope. Like one misstep will send me crashing to the ground with a tremendous thud.

I'll be honest... keeping all of the balls in my life in the air simultaneously is getting harder and harder. And yet, I'm reluctant to let any of them fall to the ground. Right now, we are in a massive hiring upswing at work... and as the director of human resources, the brunt of that falls on my plate. Fine, no biggie. In one week I'll be in... Dayton, OH (why, God, why??) for work. Um. Yay? Then, a week later, my little man is having bilateral hip surgery. An operation that will leave him in a lower body cast for six weeks. I wish I could say fine, no biggie to this one, but I can't. I'm terrified for him... and for myself. Yeah, I said it. For me. Because I know that this will change my time constraints for a bit. Time that is already stretched thin.

As if that wasn't enough, my cousin died from an overdose this weekend. Kids- just say NO. Drugs are bad. Real bad. So... instead of shopping for black Friday, I'll be prepping to attend his funeral and say bye to a guy who was a hero of mine growing up.

And let's be honest here... I struggle on a daily basis to find enough time to do not only what HAS to be done... but also what I WANT to get done. Books to read. Music to find. TV shows and movies to watch. (beers to drink... :P)

All of that means my running has been... hit or miss. The miles are there, but the intensity isn't. Training, when life is blowing up on you, isn't easy. But this is MY refuge, and because of that, I am unwilling to drop this ball in any way shape or form. This is my sanity saver. Where I find mental clarity in the midst of insanity on a day to day basis.

Still... there has to be some balance. Some way to be alithehrqueen, alithemama, alithewife and alitherunner... all at the same time, but in a way that nothing is being given less than it deserves.

I don't have the answers on how to make this happen. I wish I did. Some days I rule the world, and I manage all of it to perfection. Other days, I feel like I drop every single ball and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it.

Here's hoping tomorrow is an I rule the world kind of day...

"Just some thoughts for the mind

I take a glimpse into time
watch the blimp read "The World Is Mine"
If I ruled the world... Imagine that" -"If I Ruled the World"- Nas

Sex and running...

2010-11-09T11:50:00.003-07:00

I'm gonna be completely open here... running makes me feel sexy. More than that, running makes me WANT sex. Especially after a really good or a really brutal run. Maybe it's the endorphins, or all of the blood pumping through my body.

All I know is that the cold shower after a run isn't always JUST because I need to rinse off. Well... maybe... that's the official party line, k?

I know I can't be the only one out there who gets like this.... and if I am- BONUS!! :)

If I had a time machine..

2010-10-29T13:25:00.003-06:00

If I had a time machine, I'm missin you,
Cinderella man,
Cinderella man.

Music is my time machine.
- Cinderella Man- Eminem

I try to live with no regrets, and I must admit, I don't always succeed. There is always something I wish I could go back and fix. Do over. Do right. Today I'm feeling the pangs of regret, and I don't much care for the feeling.

What took me so long to start running? Why did I wait until my 30's to take care of myself? Why did I never see that I was worth the effort? And more importantly... do I see that worth now? I guess that remains the question of the day...

Where's the Delorean and Doc Brown when you need them?

3 years...

2010-10-19T21:25:00.001-06:00

Whoa. Just... Whoa.

Halloween, 2007:

October, 2010:

missing shoe

2010-10-19T11:22:00.007-06:00

Seriously... who loses a shoe?? Oh, right. *I* do. I didn't leave my heart in San Francisco... just one of my shoes. :(

Farewell, lefty. You were a good training partner...

Nike Womens' Marathon 2010

2010-10-18T08:55:00.006-06:00

Nike Women's Marathon 26.2 mi 04:53 11:10 pace

First off, this is a 41 minute PR!!!

Now.. the details... I started running with the 5h pacer... Went conservative. And wow- downtown was gorgeous! The financial district was just amazing. Running past the Piers and Fisherman's Wharf was fun. The ocean powers me in a way that is hard to describe.

First hill hit at mile 4. At this point I broke away from the pacer- she was hitting the hills at 12's... And I knew I could do better. I was doing 9:40s. It was rolling hills after that- but the rain started to get BAD at this point.

Then we came up on the GG bridge... SO pretty but that hill was a beast. I hit it hard, but it ate me up. There was also a really long hill after that was brutal.

By mile 11, I was feeling tired and I got scared. At this point we were in GG Park- sooooo beautiful!! The Great Highway was soooo pretty! The ocean was to my right, and I was humbled.

I felt strong until m18- then my calves got tight!! I knew I was on pace to do a 4:45 and I was PSYCHED. We hit Lake Merced at this point and it was a LOT like fiesta island (only a little prettier). It had rolling hills and I was getting so exhausted. I knew I had some wiggle room w my time, and gave up the 4:45 at m22- ferocious headwind and I was soaking wet and COLD, and going up the last hill. :(

At m23 the ocean was back on my left- fierce waves and freezing cold breeze. My wheels fell off at m24. I knew I needed at least 12s to go sub-5, and wasn't sure I could. I started to cry, and slowly pushed harder a few steps at a time. When I saw the finish, I gave all I had left and could only manage a 10:02.

All in all- one of the prettiest courses I have ever run... But by FAR the hardest- with the rain and hills...

Nike Womens' Marathon: Goal Setting

2010-10-14T11:47:00.003-06:00

With the race just a few days away, it's time to lay down my goals on paper... okay, cyberspace. Same difference, admit it. :)

1. Have fun. This is a victory lap for me, so the hard part is behind me and it's time to enjoy this ride. Enjoy seeing my girlfriends. Enjoy seeing my beloved San Francisco again.

2. 'A' goal: 4:59:59. Yeah, I know it's ambitious considering it would be a 35 minute PR. But there it is. I've laid it down, and it's more concrete.

3. 'B' goal: PR this biznitch. San Diego was all about finishing the race. This one is about performance. Thankfully, my initial 5:34 race gives me a lot of wiggle room for a new PR.

4. Leave it all on the road. All of my current frustrations. The aches in my heart. The longings of my soul. I want to run hard enough that, for a few hours at least, it all fades away into the burning of my legs and lungs.

5. Get that Tiffany, baby!! There is something *very* cool about knowing that not everyone owns that bit of bling. I like it. :)

So there you have it. My goals for Nike. *deep breath* I can do this, right?

Nom nom nom nom

2010-10-08T10:40:00.002-06:00

I'm hungry. No, I mean I'm really, really hungry. There is something about taper(worm) that makes me want to eat everything in sight. Healthy food. Unhealthy food. All of it. I want to eat until I pop... and then eat a little more.

It's odd for me. Normally I eat VERY little. One of my good friends is constantly amazed that I can go and go and go on the amount that I eat.

I think my body makes up for it during taper. It's not a good thing. I'm not running or working out as hard or as often... and that means that there is a lot of potential for me to gain weight during this 2 week period- NOT exactly how I want to go into a marathon.

I try to fight it... I really do... but the sound of my stomach growling is enough to frighten the bear that lives in my neighborhood off. WTF.

9 more days... this will only last nine more days...

Oh damn. Only 9 more days. *scared*

San Francisco

2010-10-04T09:33:00.003-06:00

In less than two weeks, I'll be running through the streets of San Francisco. I can't lie, it's one of my favorite cities in the world. A few years ago I had the amazing fortune of being able to travel there every six weeks for work... and it's a time in my life I will always be grateful for.

There is something intoxicating about SF. From it's massive hills (gulp) and trolleys, to it's architecture- old and new. From the Wharf to the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz to Ghiradelli Square. There is so much to see and do there that a mere weekend there is almost heartbreaking.

Except that this time I'm not there to be a true tourist. This time, I'm going to San Francisco to claim a piece of her streets while leaving a piece of my weakness behind. As many times as I've been there, I can guarantee that I have never seen her beauty as intimately as I will see it soon.

It's like going to see an old friend under different circumstances. It's the same... and yet very different. In a city as large as San Francisco, 26.2 miles doesn't seem like much... but it's enough to give her some ownership over my heart.

Zen...

2010-09-23T22:18:00.003-06:00

A funny thing happened tonight... as I stood in the shower thinking about running, and my upcoming marathon I felt an immense sense of calm come over me. I had an epiphany. While I really, really want to hit my goal time for this race, what is more important is that I finish strong and healthy.

The new PR would be amazing, I won't lie. But for me... for this journey... finishing another marathon... in the same year as my first marathon... is a HUGE accomplishment.

I'm stronger now. Faster. More confident in my abilities. Crossing the line in San Diego changed me forever. I know now and forever that I *do* have it in me to finish a marathon.

This same sense of calm came over me before San Diego too... it came much closer to my race last time. Somehow, I knew then that I would be just fine in the marathon- and I was.

This race will be a little different. I won't have the same support group I had last time. The course is much tougher than before. My expectations of what I want from myself are higher now. And yet... none of that matters. I know that I will run MY run. And in the end, that's really all I can do. After all, the Tiffany necklace will be the same one whether I finish in 4:59 or 5:15... ;)

The lonely life of the distance runner...

2010-09-19T05:18:00.003-06:00

The alarm clock goes off... it's early... the sun has yet to make an appearance. You lay there in bed feeling the warmth of the blankets... the warmth from your sleeping husband. You don't want to move, and yet, you realize that the miles you need to put down won't run themselves. Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed. You stretch, head to the kitchen to make yourself some food- knowing that you must eat in order to be able to run the long distance that you have to do.

You eat in silence. No one else in the house is near waking up. Even the dog is out cold. And speaking of cold, you can feel the chill in the air... the lonely chill of fall is in the air.

You get dressed to run... not yet sure if you are excited about the exertion you are about to put forth. The warmth of your bed is still familiar against your skin and you long to crawl back into bed.

As you make your way outside, the silence from the neighborhood reminds you, once again, that you are alone on this chilly morning. You push off on the run, slowly at first because your muscles, like the dense fog in the air, are cold. No music to start... you know that since you are alone, your hearing must be keen to be sure that you really ARE alone.

One mile. Then five. Then twelve. You begin to see other runners on the trail... and though you wave at each other, you are aware that this journey is yours alone. You push harder... alone with your thoughts and alone with your heart. You allow yourself to explore those places inside of you that you keep so tightly bottled up when you're in the company of others. Twelve miles become eighteen and the sights on the trail give way to the familiarity of your neighborhood... your run coming to an end.

Twenty miles. Three and a half hours of solitude. It's lonely being a distance runner, even if you know there are thousands of other runners doing exactly what you're doing each and every day. And yet, you feel alive. Refreshed. Your mental cache is cleared and your heart is at peace. Life is good and you know you are lucky to be able to share that time with no one.

Another 20 miler in the books...

2010-08-30T08:12:00.002-06:00

It's that time again in my training to start hitting the 20 milers. Nike Women's Marathon is only 6 weeks away. 6. Weeks. What the hell? Wasn't it just taper time for the San Diego Marathon? Where the hell did summer go?

But I digress. 20 miler. Right. Okay. So, in my *infinite* wisdom, I thought that doing a hilly and tough TRAIL run for the majority of my 20 miles would be a good idea. Um... not so much. 17 miles through the Air Force Academy (see pic above... it really is VERY scenic), and 3 miles through the roads of Colorado Springs.

I've only done this route one other time, and I remember it being MUCH harder than it felt yesterday. Not that it was easy- it wasn't. Between hills, heat (full sun... owie) and my asthma flaring in a BIG way- this run was challenging all around. But... on a strictly technical level, this run didn't feel as hard. The hills weren't as big as I remembered them being. It didn't feel as long as it did the first time. Then again... that run was also my first 17 miler in a VERY long time. This time, I'm a longer distance veteran. Wow. Crazy to actually write that out.

In other news... I'm officially an angel. Nope, I really am. I even have a Halo to prove it! Okay... so maybe the halo is a Halo headband... but that is neither here nor there. :P Sweat in my eyes has been a huge issue all summer long, and honestly, I'm tired of feeling blinded by it. So... I knew it was time to try something to take care of it. I LOVED the Halo. Lightweight enough that I didn't feel like I had anything on my head, but it *worked*!! No sweat in my eyes!! SCORE!!! I'll keep you posted as to how it holds up to cleaning and the *raw* power of my sweat in the next few weeks. Haha.

Revisiting an oldie but goodie...

2010-08-26T14:09:00.000-06:00

I have thunder thighs
And that's a compliment
Because they are strong
and toned
and muscular
and though they are unwelcome
in the petite section
they are cheered on in marathons
fifty years from now
I'll bounce a grandchild on my thunder thighs
and then I'll go out for a run
just do it

My shoulders
aren't dainty
or proportional to my hips
some say they are like a man's
I say, leave men out of it
They are mine
I made them
In a swimming pool
Then I went to yoga
and made my arms
just do it

My Butt is Big
and round like the letter C
and ten thousand lunges
have made it rounder
but not smaller
and that's just fine
it's a space heater
for my side of the bed
it's my ambassador
to those who walk behind me
it's a border collie
that herds skinny women
away from the best deals
at clothing sales
my butt is big
and that's just fine
and those who might scorn it
are invited to kiss it
Just do it

My Hips
Return to Puberty
When I'm in dance class
making them crazy
and sportaneous
and optimistic
and prone to drama
and I don't understand them
and sometimes they
don't understand themselves
when the music stops
they're still charged
don't touch me
sparks will fly
just do it

My knees
are tomboys
They get bruised and cut
every time I play soccer
I'm proud of them
and wear my dresses short
My mother worries
I will never marry
with knees like that
But I know
there's someone out there
who will say to me:
I love you
and I love your knees
I want the four of us
to grow old together
just do it

My legs
were once two hairy sticks
that weren't very good at jump rope
but by the time I reached the age of algebra
they had come into their own
and now in spin class
they are revered
envied for their strength
honored for their beauty
hairless for the most part
except that place the razor misses
just behind the ankles
just do it

What motivates you?

2010-08-17T08:59:00.003-06:00

We all have the things that push us when we just don't feel like running. That ace in the hole that tells us that laziness isn't an option when all we really want to do is veg on the couch.

My 6 year old son AJ is my motivation. He's a pocket Hercules. In 6 years, he's been through more than more people will have to endure in a whole lifetime. When he was 14 months old, he had a choking accident that left him quadriplegic, non-verbal and unable to eat. It rocked our world, and changed the landscape of our lives.

Despite all that, he is one of the happiest little guys you could ever imagine. He's rarely without a smile. And despite doctors telling us he would never be able to laugh, cry, smile or walk, he's defying the odds. He has a wicked sense of humor. His cry will break your heart. And even with his broken little body, he is learning how to walk.

Yep, you read that right. Walking.

Yesterday, we found out that both of his hips are dislocated, and probably have been for a while now. Through what has to be incredible pain, he's been pushing himself to walk. Never faltering. Never quitting.

In the face of courage like that, how can I put up any excuses to not train, and train hard? I can't. I won't. He inspires me daily. HE inspires ME.

And for that, someday, I promise, I will give him the gift of a marathon, a la Team Hoyt. I hope you can run it with us as a celebration of the power of the human spirit. :)

Muddy Buddy!

2010-08-15T15:41:00.003-06:00

Muddy Buddy- Boulder, CO: Boulder Reservoir

What a FUN event. After running 18 miles yesterday, I have to admit, I was VERY nervous about a full out, x-country run WITH obstacles thrown in. I was tired and sore going into this, and my whole goal was to not get my first dead-last finish or worse... a full out DNF. Ugggh!

I met up with some REALLY cool runner girls before the event, and we talked marathons, duathlons, triathlons and running in general. I LOVE runners... no matter what the event, I know I'm amongst friends. :)

Then BANG. We were off for the run. Started at a steep incline, and then held steady to the first obstacle. I'm not sure *what* I imagined the obstacles to be, but oy VEY they were harder than I envisioned.

Now... with these obstacles... keep in mind that ALL of them were x2 since it was a mud run w/o a buddy... that said... first up... a rock climb over a wall with a rope fence on the descent. OUCH. Upper body strength is NOT my forte... let's just leave it at that. :( Hit a decent hill which lasted a while, then a straight uphill climb over rocks and mud. There was NO running this, and I just hoped I didn't slide down and take out the runners behind me... a quick run through a mud pit (brrrrr) and then off to the next obstacle- crawling under a rope fence. My pony tail kept catching, and I was sure I was going to rip the hair off of my head. GOOD times. :) 2 more miles... and then... the balance beam. I'll admit it, I bear crawled over it using two beams because of the sheer terror of falling and taking out a hip... more running, full sun and I wanted to die from the screaming of my quads and hamstrings... I knew though that walking would just prolong the event, so I pushed on. Next up- a rope climb up an inflatable slide. SHEER terror for me since heights make me want to die. I closed my eyes, and just climbed up. The slide down was VERY close to straight down, so rather than go down on my butt, in my *infinite* wisdom, I went down on my belly... and burned my chin, belly button and knees on the slide from the speed of my descent. OW... and then, joy of joys, I got to do it AGAIN (remember, obstacles x2...). Worst part of the race by FAR for me. 2 more miles of up/down hills (the whole race was a series of hills and downhills... by the end, my quads were really hurting...)... and then, the final obstacle- a run THROUGH the shallow end of the reservoir (FUN and refreshing!!). One final evilness of running UPhill in the sand, and finally... the grand finale- the MUD PIT!! Let me start by saying OMFG, that mud was COLD!!! Second... a word of advice- CLOSE YOUR EYES in this one. I didn't. And the world turned brown behind my contact lenses as soon as I went under the first obstacle. OUCH!!! I tried to rub the mud out, but it just made it worse. Ah well! Crawling through the mud was a lot of fun... I liked it SO much more than I thought, but boy oh boy, I was COATED from head to toe in the mud. SEXY!!! Hahahaha... ran blind through the finish and then boom... it was over, just like that. I must have looked like a little kid because I got a kids' medal. Wheeee!!!

Overall, amazing event. I can't WAIT to run another one... only next time... I want to do the true Muddy Buddy. Anyone up to partner up with me? :)

Perspective

2010-08-03T08:36:00.002-06:00

On Sunday I had a 16 mile run scheduled. I was actually looking forward to it- 3+ hours of reflection time. Me time. Alone time.

Unfortunately, my body had other plans. As I pushed off for the run, I could tell instantly that something was off. My muscles were burning and aching from the first few steps. My joints were aching. My head was pulsing. I assumed it was from a harder week of training, so I pushed on. And on. And on. I fought my body every step of that run, and finally, at mile 10, my body said ENOUGH, and it stopped. I don't mean I slowed down, I mean I *stopped*. I couldn't lift my legs one more step. Not even to walk. I ended up doing something I'm not sure I've ever done before... I sat on the curb, hung my head and called my mom to come and get me. I was dejected, and very angry with myself for not hitting my goal mileage.

I spent the rest of the day in and out of sleep. I knew I was sick, and still, I was very unforgiving with myself about my failed run. Nike is only 11 weeks away, and every long run counts at this point. I don't have a lot of wiggle room left. Fail, fail, fail, fail kept running through my head in an endless chant. Until... my coach called me on the phone. Yay- a cheer up call!

Wrong.

The call wasn't about this failed run (directly). It was more about my ever-present demon: nutrition. Apparently, I'm not eating enough. 30 minutes of gentle reprimanding about it. Reminders that I'm fueling an athlete, and the nutritional needs are real. Whee.

But it made me think. I don't eat enough. I know I don't sleep enough. And sure enough, my body crashed and burned. Maybe the run wasn't so much a fail, as it was my body raising the white flag and saying 'hey! hello.... can you please take care of me??'

So I slept. And I ate. Sunday and Monday. And today I finally feel almost like myself again. And I'm feeling less angry about the failed run. Because maybe, just maybe, it was another training lesson in disguise.

This, that and the other

2010-07-25T19:21:00.005-06:00

First off, today's run owned my butt. No really, it owned it. It was a planned 16 miler, and in honor of my friends running the San Francisco 1/2 and Full Marathons, I decided to make my run hilly... because, let's be honest, the hills for the Nike Women's Marathon won't train themselves into my body. I wish, but alas... not so much. So that elevation chart above? Yeah... that was my run today. And the rain kicked in about mile 6... just adding to the fun. No really, that wasn't sarcasm... despite being a tough run, it was fun. The trails were empty because of the weather, and it was SWEET to be out there enjoying my run alone. Ahhhh. 16 miles in 2h45m. Not too bad for this little ole' slow poke!

Second... I got some fun news on Friday... that same slow poke? The one who looks a lot like me? THAT slow poke is now an officially sponsored athlete! Yep- I was accepted into the BrooksID program. To say I'm floored is an understatement. Me? Inspiring Daily? Yep. Me. Wow.

In case you haven't heard about the Inspire Daily program, let me tell you a little bit about it (okay, so I'll let THEM tell you about it... since I'm stealing this directly off of their page... ha.)

Brooks I.D. Program
Brooks I.D. stands for Inspire Daily. These two simple words guide the principles of the program. Brooks I.D. is made up of over 800 members who are active in their running communities and share a passion for the Brooks brand. They are runners who are winners in their own right: Winning their age divisions, accomplishing their personal goals, pushing their own limits, and, by extension, encouraging others to do the same. They are coaches, mentors, and leaders.

What We Look for
Brooks I.D. athletes members use their athletic talent to help carry out the Brooks mission: To inspire people to run and be active. We look for athletes who have a passion for Brooks, race and train in Brooks' shoes and apparel, and enthusiastically evangelize the brand.

Wow. Who knew? :)

Okay. So... it wasn't this, that and the other. It was just this and that. Ah well. Hahahaha.

Feeling myself up...

2010-07-21T14:57:00.006-06:00

No, this isn't a blog about checking yourself for breast cancer... I'm not that noble today. (but for the sake of good health, go cop a feel just to be safe)

Nope. I'm talking about really and truly feeling myself up. I can't help myself. I catch myself doing it at odd and random times. My shoulders. My arms. My quads. My lower back. My abs. My ass. I sit in my office... in my car... on the plane... at lunch- just groping away. I'm sure people are beginning to wonder about me. And the truth is, I just don't give a sh*t.

It's really cool for me to feel the changes that have come from all of the hard work I've put in. That I'm *still* putting in. I'll admit it. I like how my body feels under my hands. Strong. Muscles emerging. Yet still soft and feminine. Yep. I dig it.

I've come a long way from a body that jiggles on every step. From wondering *if* there were muscles buried under all that flesh (there were- yay!)...

So I say, eff it. I'm gonna continue feeling myself up and enjoying it. Hell, if I can't enjoy groping myself, who can?? (wait... don't answer that. :P)

Post marathon blues

2010-07-19T14:07:00.002-06:00

Yeah... two posts in one day. I wanted to get them both out before I forgot either of them... because they are both important to me.

This one, however, is *more* important.

I'm finally out of a month-long funk that took me by surprise. Big surprise. After the marathon, I was on a serious high. I felt invincible. Ecstatic. Life was amazing. Everything was enhanced. It was like being on a potent drug.

But like getting high from drugs (don't ask how I know...), after the high comes the crash.

And I did crash. Hard. As good as it all had felt before was as bad as it felt about 10 days post race. I was crying a lot. Moody. Up and then down. I questioned everything. Friendships. Family. Work.

Yeah. It sounds dramatic, even to me. But there it was. In hindsight, I feel horrible. I'm lucky I didn't lose any friends over it. It was that bad. I was convinced that people were done with me. How could they not be? I mean... yeah.

It's hard to describe how I felt. But after I did the race, I was so happy. I wanted everyone to celebrate with me. Celebrate me. I mean, I did 26.2! Do you KNOW what that means? Come ON, let's celebrate.

Yeah. But what hit me was... now what? After planning and training for the race and festivities for a full year, I felt lost. My purpose was gone. My direction was shattered. It was surreal.

I'm finally through it. Nike is coming up quickly, and not long after that is the LA Marathon. There are MANY races yet to run... though... maybe next year not *quite* as many as this year. Direction has been re-established. Confidence restored. I know now that no one is leaving me behind. No one is done with me. Everything isn't as wonky as it felt.

Damn. This running stuff is emotional business! :)

Beautiful places, part 2...

2010-07-19T13:52:00.005-06:00

So running in beautiful Orange County wasn't enough for this girl... I had to see what New Mexico had to offer. It didn't let me down.

I was born and raised in New Mexico, and while I *did* run there, it was never more than a few miles, and generally that was around a track during track team practice.

This though... *this* was running. I did 10 miles in the Santa Fe hills, and my GOD was it beautiful. The sun was just coming up over the mountains, and the air was crisp and fresh... there were deer out, and I swear I could feel the warmth of heaven on my skin. Or maybe it was the heat of the desert sun. Either way, it was incredible...

OC and Santa Fe have a lot in common as far as terrain. Shocking, I know. Cali and New Mexico? Similar? Seriously? Yep. Seriously.

Both have a desert beauty that is hard to describe... you just have to experience it. The hills. The vegetation that is unique to any desert. The smell. The hills. Canyons. It's hard to put into words... all I know is that it made me VERY glad that I'm fortunate enough to be a runner... again. Twice. In one week. It's more good fortune than one girl deserves. Thank God someone thinks I'm worthy. :)

I love being a runner

2010-07-15T08:41:00.005-06:00

I know I've said it over and over, but I really love being a runner. It's all of the obvious reasons... but more than that... being a runner means I get to see some of the most beautiful landscapes, up close & personal.

I was in Southern California for work this week, and while there, I got to run in Irvine Regional Park... if you've never been there, I HIGHLY recommend it. It's in Tustin, and it is stunning.

A good friend of mine recommended this and another nearby place (Peters Canyon), and after talking with him, I decided on Irvine.

I was not disappointed. It offered a bit of everything... hills, flats, a lake, a zoo, lush & green views, desert mountain views. But mostly.... it offered a bit of solitude. Peace. Quiet. Beauty. It was me, and the park, and the sun. Okay, and the helicopters that kept buzzing the area. Whatever. :)

I did 7 miles out there... and while my time was a bit sucky (it was a bit warm and VERY sunny out there), it was a really solid run. I love running in California... and I'll admit, it makes it hard to return to Colorado.

So... amigo? Gracias for sharing that gorgeous place with me. I'm glad I was able to spend some time there.

(a pic of Peters Canyon as well... just because I can.)

Making an impression...

2010-07-11T08:35:00.003-06:00

It always humbles me when I learn that *I* make an impresison on someone. Maybe it's because in my mind, I don't feel all that impressive. I don't know. Whatever it is, whenever a friend says I inspire them, it leaves me feeling humbled.

This week, my friend Runnrgrl profiled me, along with another runner. Actually, several other runners in a series she's doing about runners that inspire her. This woman is incredible- she BQed on her *first* marathon. WOW!

So dear Runnrgrl? You made my week... no, month, by profiling me.

Check out the blog, peeps: http://runnrgrrl.blogspot.com/

Zooming, mudding, and nikey-ing...

2010-06-29T10:45:00.005-06:00

The next few months should be a lot of fun... after recovering from the marathon (bring the next one ON, baby!), it's time to get the next races in order...

First up, Zooma on 7/25. A nice, easy half marathon that is local. Um. Yay? After the hell that was the Colfax Half and the hell that was the Bolder Boulder, I can't honestly say I'm excited to race in Colorado again... but, it will be good training for Nike. It will be... right? Ugggh. Right??

Next up... Muddy Buddy on 8/15 in Boulder (yeah, after complaining about the Bolder Boulder, I'm racing there again)... this one should be a lot of fun- a combo bike/run event with obstacles AND a mud pit. That alone sounds fun, but I get to do it with my baby brother! BONUS!! It will be his first race, so I am excited to share it with him. And did I mention mud? I'm more excited to see my pretty boy brother all muddy than anything. Oh! And my daughter AND niece are doing the mini muddy buddy too. FUN!

And rounding out the next 3.5 months... my next marathon- Nike Women's. I was really surprised to have gotten in... and now the reality of what I committed to has struck me... not the distance, but the HILLS. What was I thinking?? I could have done Long Beach (FLAT) on the same day, but nooooooooo... Nike. Someone just keep reminding me that the bling is a Tiffany necklace handed out by a nice fireman in a tux... please remind me that there *is* reward at the end of that course. Because look at this elevation profile (little image inside the course map):

God help me.

Race etiquette

2010-06-16T16:08:00.003-06:00

Let me clarify a few things. I ran the Rock n Roll San Diego Marathon for Team in Training. That doesn't make me a TNT runner. I trained with my own personal coach, and didn't participate in their activities at all. In my mind, I don't consider myself a TNT runner at all.

That said. I have one major complaint about the race... race etiquette.

About a month before the race, I got into a heated argument with a good friend of mine about race etiquette. At the time, I was arguing with her about it. That TNT was fine, no worries.

And then I ran San Diego. Look at that picture. There were a LOT of runners. A lot. And let's be honest- I didn't set any speed records, but I ran all out, and I *raced* with all I had. So for me to do that and run into TNT people WALKING three people wide across the middle of the course was annoying... no, more than annoying, it made me really mad. MOVE the f*ck out of my way. I wish that was all. No, it gets more fun. Runners/walkers stopping in the middle of the course to bend over and tie their shoes. I swear, I almost flipped over 3 or 4 people doing this. Really? Have you NO common sense? You have two shoulders to pick from and THAT is where you stop? Nice. And for the record? I don't care if you see your coach up ahead, shove me again and I will kick your ass, mile 23 or no mile 23.

I think TNT does a great thing- taking people from whatever fitness level they're at and getting them across the finish line of the half and full marathon. Amazing stuff there. But it shouldn't stop there. Teach your runners to have some courtesy. I'm all for the team, but that doesn't mean taking up the whole course with 3 people WALKING. Teach your athletes to make gear adjustments *off* the main course. And it's not okay to shove an already tired runner and not expect to get yelled at.

So, Shelly? I was wrong. You were right. Race etiquette sucked balls. I stand corrected.

And just like that, I'm a marathoner.

2010-06-06T18:26:00.000-06:00

It's official- I am now a marathoner. Even in my mind, there is no longer any denying it. I'm a runner.

It took my 5h29m by my garmin's time to do it. But I did it. Strong, steady, and only 14m off my original goal.

It was an amazing day- start to finish. Walking to the race site was the perfect way to start this amazing day. And once at the site, it just got better. The images in my head from stretching, listening to the national anthem, and waiting in the corral to start will live in my mind for the rest of my life.

It was amazing. I never had a chance to focus on the fact that 26.2 miles were imminent. And once the race started, I hit a solid zone... The first mile went too fast, but sooo good. And then, I just found a groove. I went out a little fast though. By mile 10 I knew I was going to PR my official half marathon time. Ooops. Old PR- 2'42. New- 2'30.

At mile 12, my iPod battery died. I'll admit it- I panicked a little. I have never ran more than a few miles w/o music, and music really hypes me up. I had no choice though, and I just dug a little deeper.

It was SO hot though. Hot. Full sun. My lungs, however, were happy! Altitude makes an incredible difference, no denying it. I didn't take a single hit off my inhaler on the course- a first for me!

At mile 17 the urge to pee hit, and I got stuck in a 9 minute line. NINE minutes. Uggh. Restarting was a little tough. We were entering fiesta island, and despite watching the course video, I forgot how LONG we'd be there. Uggh. A long time.

At mile 20 I was feeling it. I saw a good friend at that point though, and it was what I needed to dig deep again. This lasted until mile 23.6- I hit a wall. Hit it hard. My mind was shutting down and my emotions were hitting me from all directions. I was finally aching.

At 25.7 I found two more friends who ran me to 26... And then I dug deep for one final push. And then I did it. I crossed the line. And when they handed me my medal, I lost it.

It's now almost 6 hours post-finish. My body is aching. My mind is tired. The reality of what I just accomplished is settling in.

Mostly though, I just feel proud of myself. I've gotten the question today- will you do another. The answer? YES! Over and over and over. I think a new addict has been born.

Thank you for supporting me as I transformed myself. Life is very, very good.

Tapering...

2010-06-02T14:21:00.002-06:00

For the past 2 weeks, I have been in taper mode as we enter the home stretch to the Rock n Roll San Diego Marathon. And I can't lie, it's been a wild, and not all together fun ride.

It's like a roller coaster. Now, don't get me wrong, I love roller coasters... once I'm on them. But the wait is torture. I hate roller coasters in that moment. They terrify me. I convince myself that I'm going to puke. Or get stuck. Or fall out. Yeah, I never said I was reasonable!!

That's how tapering feels to me. I'm in line now, waiting to get on the roller coaster that is the marathon. And there have been moments in the past few weeks when I've hated running. Convinced myself that I was horribly injured. Unable to do this marathon. Out of shape. Not good enough. Bitten by a spider... beaten down by the Bolder Boulder. (FYI- NEVER run a 'race' during your first marathon taper... trust me on this one...)

And then there are days like today... days where I am on top of the world. Overflowing with positive energy... I feel like I could do anything today. My smile hasn't faded once today. My spirit is flying. I want everyone to sing and dance with me. I am happier than I have been in months. Mind, body, soul... I feel alive, loved and capable. I hope the feeling lasts all the way into San Diego.

What a long and crazy ride this has been. I know the next one will be nothing like this... so I am riding each and every wave... I can't believe it's almost over...

Just a quickie...

2010-05-25T08:28:00.002-06:00

http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/ay-mama/2010/05/the-san-diego-rock-n-roll-marathon.html

If you get a chance... check it out. Laura (Atia's mom) wrote a blog about me. And I am humbled beyond reason. Thank you, Laura. I hope I can make you (and Atia) proud.

Marathon...

2010-05-23T18:22:00.003-06:00

Pace yourself so you can face yourself
Run hard, you really only race yourself

The long run separates the weak and strong ones
- Marathon, Dilated Peoples

I heard this song on my run today... and those two lines stood out to me. Stood out so much that I spent the rest of my run reflecting on them and what they mean to me...

Pace yourself so you can face yourself. ANYone who has run long distances knows what this means. It was when I started hitting mileage above 15 miles that I really got it. I've blogged several times about how mental and emotional this journey is. It's true though. You learn things about yourself on really long runs that you would NEVER learn otherwise. There is something about the solitude and physical exertion that makes you face your demons, confront your fears... there is nowhere to hide out there... and so, you don't. And you come out stronger for it.

Run hard, you really only race yourself. Again, so true. At least at *my* level of running. I'm not looking to qualify for Boston. At this stage in my game, I just want to beat my own times... and in the case of San Diego, finish and finish strong. I want to make myself proud, and really, just to finish this race will make me proud. VERY proud. And I will, you know. Failure is NOT an option. And for my friends running with me, if I die before I hit the finish line, drag me across that line. Do NOT let me leave this earth with a DNF as my final act. K? Thanks. I'm holding you to that. :)

The long run separates the weak and strong ones. God, yes. Did you know that 1% of Americans have done a marathon? 1%. That's not by chance either. Training for this is grueling. It takes time, dedication and willingness to hurt. A lot. I work out 10-15 hours per week, minimum. That's 10-15 hours away from my kiddos on TOP of the 40 I give to work. It's not easy. But I wouldn't have it any other way. They see me taking care of myself. And I'm an example to them that life is theirs to grab, they just have to grab it. But I digress. Weak and strong are definitely separated in the long run. Today I ran for 3.5 hours. That's a lot of time on my feet. A lot of time in the sun. And I am so grateful that I am able. Healthy and willing. That tells me I'm strong, and you can't convince me otherwise.

2 weeks from today I will run the San Diego Rock n Roll Marathon. 26.2 miles to learn things about myself that are still undiscovered. And from what I hear, I will never be the same again after. I can't wait to get to know that new version of me. :)

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

2010-05-19T15:46:00.000-06:00

As you may (or may not) have noticed, I made a pretty big change to this blog... to my online home...

For the past 2.5 years, I have been the fat runner. When I have closed my eyes, that's who I have seen. Nothing else mattered in my head. Not that I have raced in multiple half marathons, not that I have done a duathlon, not the MS150, not Ragnar, not the prep for my marathon. None of it mattered in my head except that I was a fat runner.

There's only one problem... I'm not that person anymore. Last night I was suckered into watching the Biggest Loser marathon episode... and I was mad. REALLY mad. They had 30 days to prep for the marathon. How DARE they give such paltry lip service to my beloved marathon.

And that's when I realized. I'm a runner. Really and truly. Not just a former fat girl running, but a runner. And in that moment, I saw myself in my head for what I am. No longer that 250 lb girl playing dress up in her super wide shoes. No longer that girl who fantasized about joining the real runners. Just... a runner.

And when I came here to blog about it, I saw it. Fat runner. Everywhere I looked. Fat runner in the title, fat runner in the URL. Everywhere. And I'm not her anymore. So it was time to change.

These days, I'm comfortable in my skin. I am happy. Healthy. And 2.5 weeks out from conquering 26.2 miles in San Diego. It doesn't get more real than that.

So thank you all... for walking this journey with me. For being patient with me as I figure out who I am. For reading along, and cheering me as I do this. I appreciate you all so much.

Giving up on failure...

2010-05-17T11:36:00.000-06:00

For weeks now, my coach and I have been working through my mental hurdles on our way to this marathon. What we have been finding is that I am my own worst enemy.

There is a scene in the Empire Strikes Back where Yoda is training Luke on the use of the force... and Luke gives up. When Yoda uses the force to lift the X-Wing out of the swamp, Luke says 'I don't believe it' and Yoda responds 'That is why you fail.'

That right there sums me up. I have a hard time believing I can do this- even when the proof that I can is right in front of me. Something in my mind keeps whispering that I don't have this in me. That I don't deserve it. And that right there, is why I fail.

The reality is that I *do* deserve this. I *have* put in the work for it. Paid my dues along the way. Even though the voice of doubt whispers to me that I'm not really a runner, the fact is that I *am*. The challenge for me will be to believe it... and I must. I must learn to believe it, and learn to believe it quickly or San Diego will be a brutal challenge. So, even though it isn't Lent, I am giving this up. Giving up my fatalistic mindset. Giving up the negativity. And like giving anything up for Lent, this will not be easy...

This past weekend I ran another half marathon. With my hip acting up, I was nervous going into it. And sure enough, my mental games caught up with me, and I ran a miserable race. I threw up twice on the course- a first for me. I got to the starting line with my a-game, and with each successive sick-fest, lost a letter, having to finish the run on my c-game, at best. I ended up finishing the half just 2 minutes shy of my PR. A PR that I will openly admit to being embarassed about. I wanted a new PR. I wanted it badly, and to say I was disappointed with my performance is the understatement of the day.

But life goes on. I need to push this one aside and learn from my mistakes. One more race for me before San Diego... and then the moment of truth. T-minus (just less than) 3 weeks and counting.

Milestone run!

2010-05-03T16:31:00.000-06:00

This was a milestone run on a number of levels... (be warned, there will be a pic of my blistered toe later... don't say I didn't tell you so!)

First, it marks the first time I have ever run with a partner for more than a mile. Thanks, Josh, for helping me out there. I knew that I would need the mental support, and you were able to distract me for 10 miles! Impressive! :)

Second, it marks the first time I have ever battered my toes to hell. Ironically enough, I told Josh during the run that I had NEVER had any issues w/my toenails. Bragging really. Ha. The universe showed me. I don't remember it hurting at all during the run. I don't even remember it hurting AFTER the run. But have MERCY, when I took off my shoes & socks to get into the ice bath, there it was. I won't lie- I yelped. Seeing it made it hurt. My nail is now loose, and if it survives to the weekend, I will be extremely surprised. :( Looks like the open toed shoes I was coveting for the summer are going to be put on hold. Such is the life of a runner. :)

Finally, it marks the first time I have ever ran 20 miles. 20 miles. For whatever reason that stands out in my head as a milestone number... it means that I am only a 10K away from finishing my marathon. One 10K... a distance I have covered over and over. But after running this 20, I have tremendous respect for a 10K now. This run abused me. It chewed me up and spit me out and then let its dog do the same. My hips (which have been bugging me a bit for about a month now) were out of whack. I could see it in my shadow... I was lumbering along- nothing graceful about it. My lungs were still angry with me for the tease I gave them by running for a weekend at sea-level and angry because they were still recovering from a cold. And mentally, I was battling with myself about how strong I really am. Ragnar was a good experience, and I adored it, but it did leave some battle scars- doubt and exhaustion. It's only now, 9 days post-Ragnar that I feel rested again.

In hindsight... I didn't fuel enough. I had a smaller than normal breakfast (pre-run nerves had me gagging my food down). On the run I only fueled post 10 miles. No bueno. This is probably what caused my energy to fall apart at mile 15. And yes, I fell apart. I remember telling Josh I couldn't do it. He was awesome- told me that I could take one more step. One step became a mile. That mile became the 5K countdown. I walked in this time. I cried. It was ugly. But at the end of it all, I finished. 20 miles... 4 hours and 10 minutes. NOT an impressive time. Ugly. But it's *my* 20 mile time, and I'll take it.

And now- celebration food! Sushi & Blue Moon!

Ragnar- the pics!

2010-04-28T13:27:00.000-06:00

Ragnar- the recap!

2010-04-26T09:30:00.003-06:00

First, let me apologize for the choppy nature of this blog post. I'm still beyond exhausted, but I wanted to get this out while it's all still fresh. I'll also do a separate post with weekend pics!

Thursday... longest day ever. Excitement to get to CA, nervousness about the race, and an impending storm had me soooo antsy that work was almost impossible. Drove up to the airport- hit massive storm as expected. Hail the size of quarters, lightning, horrid wind. Thought for sure I was driving into a tornado. Scary! Get to DIA- and whee... an hour long delay. Then two hours. All the while my nerves are getting more and more intense. Finally boarded the plane... and the ride felt eternal... didn't help that I watched the Discovery Channel... about... snails. ?? Haha. Finally landed at LAX. JT (notorias) was waiting for me at baggage claim... and it's funny, it was like we had known each other for a while. I guess we kind of have. We ended up getting lost in Burbank... and ended up in a barrio at 2 am. Found a house with Nike swooshes soldered into the design! Finally got to Jen F's (sugigrl) house at 2:45...

Friday... up at 7 am... we could have slept MUCH later. As soon as we got up, we found out that overnight, Carmen (carmen57) (one of our runners) had been in an accident, was in the hospital and couldn't run. PANIC. The other van took on Carmen's legs by snagging a guy out of our van. That left us with HIS legs. No biggie. We decided I'd take on one leg (5 extra miles) and the two guys in my van would take on the rest. Leg two of the relay... and Jenny (jendhi) (in the other van) went down with a severe asthma attack. BAM! Down two runners. Jen F took all 3 of Jenny's legs. ALL THREE. She did an ultra. :O Finally time for us to head up to our first handoff spot... crazy long drive, but gorgeous. I fell in love with CA all over again. Got to our spot and the energy of the race was intoxicating. The decorated vans, the teams in costume, Ragnar the Viking- it was crazy... we also saw Candy (cowhateration) and Lori (lj3000) and then boom! JT was the first runner in our van to go. We drove around getting to each handoff spot. Somehow, Thousand Oaks sticks out in my mind vividly- so pretty, but WOW were the women fake looking! :O FINALLY get to my handoff spot in Agoura Hills (this was the leg that I took on)... hills... should have told me something! I went out too hard, and too fast for a first leg. Pushed a time that felt crazy. It was beautiful though, and I just ran what felt good... the hills were hard but not brutal, but the heat was eating me up. I did a few electrolyte chews and a ton of water and just pushed. YAY! Handoff... except that I knew that I only had an hour to rest before my next leg. I ate a banana, powered down some Gatorade and put my calf sleeves on. It went fast. too fast... and before I knew it, the sun was going down, temp was dropping and it was time for my next leg... it started in the hills outside of Ventura, then twisted and turned until I was in the heart of Ventura. Saw the middle school where the Karate Kid was filmed and MsV's parents were outside their home with a sign for me to cheer me on! (it said GO ALI GO!) It was JUST what I needed and I picked up my pace... I knew I was on pace to do another 48 minute 5 miler!! I rounded the corner and then I saw the handoff point. At this point though, I ran out of steam and I was crying. My whole van ran me in, mercilessly pushing me harder and harder. I pushed a pace that felt crazy fast, screamed until I crossed the handoff, and then collapsed in the park crying. This is when one of our van people decided that we HAD to get a hotel room and rest. She got us the room at the Santa Monica Sheraton! YEAH! The other van called to tell us they were way ahead of pace, and we had to leave after only a few hours. They were off though- and we ended up hanging at the Pier for more than 90 minutes waiting- MOST uncool. This is also when I began to feel really exhausted, and I passed out in the van. :O

Saturday. I remember us getting lost in Torrance. JT was driving and the irritability from exhaustion was kicking in. Mike (other guy in van) had gotten to handoff point early, and we weren't there. He waited 20 minutes for us to get UNlost... we finally found the Best Buy (where the handoff was), and got our next runner on their way... I knew my third leg was coming up fast though, so I ate a little, hydrated, and got geared up. What a mess that was. It was my shortest leg... but by far my worst. I forgot to take my hoodie off... pinned my bib to the reflective vest on one side, and my hoodie on the other side. Then my Garmin didn't catch any satellites. Then me iPod's volume went away. So there I was. Overheated, pushing a tired pace that felt slow. And trying to get out of my hoodie. I know I ripped the bib off (I have holes now!) at one point. I was frustrated. Crying. Mad. Then I saw the park for the handoff. And I heard a girl coming up behind me. I remember thinking oh HELL no.. you are NOT gonna chick me after all of THAT... so I pushed. Hard. REALLY hard. I came in sprinting SO hard... I handed off to Jen F... except that her arm was sticking out and I ran RIGHT into it with my breast. OUCH!! My legs were wobbling. Jello. We went to the van, and everyone had been munching. They weren't hungry. I was starving. No dice. We drove straight to Huntington Beach from there... WOW. Surf City is gorgeous. Pretty enough to wake me up for the whole ride. We arrived at the beach, and again, the energy got me going. It was a HUGE party... and they had breakfast!! We all took a quick baby wipe bath, changed our clothes, and had breakfast on the beach. I can't even tell you how my soul felt to eat breakfast while watching the waves crash in. I walked out to the water and damn near froze myself. I think the CA night/morning cold surprised me almost more than anything. Craziness! We decided then to go back and watch the runners come in. This was the handoff point that signaled that van 1 runners were done with their Ragnar runs. Crazy, huh?? I had A Tribe Called Quest radio on Pandora blasting, and Eddie (eddied80) and I were doing a beach version of old school karaoke. Ha! The runner watching was awesome. Indian Tribe. Man in drag running as Marilyn Monroe. The superheroes. The animal women. And runners so fast that I was standing with my mouth open. I was really feeling the exhaustion by this point, and when we hit the van, I passed out again. I have vague memories of waking up to wish everyone well on their legs, but still sleeping a lot... until we got to Irvine. The insane beauty of the area, combined with an impending terror about my final leg finally woke me up. We went from Irvine to some canyon... the handoff before last... and while I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the canyon, the terror was making it hard to breathe. I was anchoring our team in. OMG. Me. ME! We left the canyon and drove to our handoff point... and I remember us cresting a hill and WOW... there was the ocean again. I won't lie- it took my breath away. And then we rounded a corner and saw the handoff point. The last one. Glenn (gwjones00) was there to cheer us on there... very cool and VERY needed! I looked to the starting point, and that's when I saw it. Hill one... and it was a beast. Horrible. Huge. And merciless. My legs were tired. My mind was tired. I wanted to cry... but something that Eddie said stuck out to me. He said- this is for the glory, for all that we've already done. And I knew. It wasn't JUST about me. There were 9 other runners who had laid it all down too. Left it all on the ragnar course. And I wasn't going to let them, myself, or anyone cheering me on down. WHAM! Handoff. And I started running up the hill. My calves were screaming. My heart was screaming. But I pushed on. I promised myself I'd never stop on the last leg. Crested the hill and after a short recovery, was hit with the next hill. There were cars passing within inches of me. Scary. And the sun. Merciful God... the sun. It was taking whatever energy the hill was sparing- and that wasn't much. Rounded a corner away from the ocean- bummer- and another hill. I wanted to stop. I wanted to cry. But I pushed more. And finally... a huge downhill. And SHADE! It was at this point that all of the emotions of the weekend hit. The highs. The disappointments. All of it. And I felt spent. Spent... just as I spotted the last hill. Knowing that it was the last hill helped. So I turned it on and hit the hill balls out... not that balls out was very fast at that point... still... as I crested the hill, I saw the ocean again! I knew I was close. And then I saw the runners walking with their medals. I knew this was it.... but my legs started slowing down! Then some random chick came behind me and screamed at me to push... 'come on chica- PUSH... faster! You have more, give more!' and she was right, so I did. I sprinted down that hill as fast as I could (5'40 pace)... and there was my team. All of them. I was yelling. Cursing! (cursing mexican food! haha) and they ran me in... hard... fast... and then, I passed them. I ran down the trail, hit the sand, and saw the finish line. And I pushed into the finish... gagging. Dry heaving. Crying. I remember taking my medal, taking off my shoes, dropping my water bottle and shoes right there, and walking into the ocean. I remember looking at the sun, feeling the water, and just bawling. I cried. I don't know why I cried, I just know I cried like a baby. 5, 10, 15 min. I have no idea. I just know that I bawled.

Sunday. I stayed with Nina (ncjack) in Culver City, and we started the day with a track workout. She ran, I walked, stretched & foam rollered. Then we cooked up brunch together- yay- and had a great conversation outside with her husband Dana (bigdnla). After breakfast, they went to the pool and I showered, cried some more (yeah, I was weepy), and watched some baseball. Once Nina got back, she and I headed out to the Santa Monica pier for a girls day out. It was cheesy. It was fun, and I have a memory that I can never replicate. We did carnie games (I won a snake!!), had junk food (kettle corn & snow cones), took cheesy pics in one of those picture machines, and rode the big green dragon ride. But most importantly, we just hung out. Talked. Laughed. And it put my mind straight. Then we all went to dinner in Culver City… and my non-Cali-girl butt got excited to see the studios, the famous hotels and even Jon Favreau walking by at dinner! HAHA!

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Was it hard? Brutally so. But worth it. SO worth it. I learned things about myself this weekend that I never knew. I know that I can survive running exhausted... a lesson that I think will serve me well in SD in 5 weeks. 5 weeks to my first full... and after Ragnar, I know that the *first* time is something you never get a chance to do again. Ever. :)

A million pieces of the same puzzle...

2010-04-20T15:51:00.001-06:00

Training for a marathon is insanity. No, really, it is insanity. For those of you who have yet (yes, I said yet) to embark on this amazing journey, it is SO much more than just being able to run for 5 hours at a time.

There is a mental piece of marathoning. Okay, so that is the BIGGEST piece of marathoning. Silencing that voice in your head that tells you that you cannot do this. That you're somehow not 'enough' in whatever capacity it's arguing *today*. Yeah, that changes on a day to day basis. Wheee!

There is also an emotional piece of marathoning... one that I didn't really know existed until this week. I've been feeling emotionally out of sorts for a few weeks. I'll be honest- it was beginning to freak me out... I thought maybe it was time to look into happy drugs! Thank God I talked to a good friend of mine... he didn't even mean to tell me about the emotional part of training... he was actually warning me about the emotional hell of the last 6 miles. The part that follows when your mind and body have both fallen apart... and your heart unleashes its power over you. And in that moment... reading THAT message, something clicked. I got it. I told him about the emotional hell of the past few weeks and he said yep, that's it. Exactly.

How did I never know about this? I've been so busy laying down the pieces of the puzzle... the physical... the mental... putting in the miles on the roads and trails... hitting the weights... cycling... all of it... and yet, I missed one of the most obvious pieces of this crazy puzzle.

This is serious shit too. You have to get to the core of who you really are, and to be quite honest, that is even harder than making your legs move for 5 hours at a time. You see your darkest demons, and your craziest fears right in front of you, and you have no where else left to hide them. I'll be honest... I'm VERY good at hiding this stuff... so to have to face it... well, yeah. I broke. I crumbled and I broke. And I cried. I cried in a way that I haven't cried in a VERY long time... and yeah, it sucked. But it also felt amazing. Release is amazing.

Thank GOD for good friends. The ones who call... the ones who email... who text... who send me messages... the ones who offer a hug and just hold me while I shake. All of you. Thank God for every one of you.

I don't think I'm done breaking yet. But I do believe that by breaking, those broken spots will heal stronger, just like bone. That is the real beauty in this process...

Heroes come in many forms...

2010-04-10T10:58:00.001-06:00

Thinking about superheroes conjures up certain images in our heads. Maybe it's Superman with his
bright red cape. Wonder Woman with her sexi body suit. Or Robin and his tights. Whatever that image is, we all think of superheroes as being bigger than life. Bigger than us mere mortals.

I think superheroes live among us.

It's the cleaning lady who makes you breakfast when your kids are sick. It's the friend who will stay up late chatting with you when you are having a meltdown. It's the friend who is always there to cheer you on, holding you up through your crises. It's the stranger at the gym who tells you that you were killing your workout. It's the coach who reminds you that he loves you, even when you feel like you are letting him down. It's the people who donate to charity, even when money is tight, just because they believe in you. It's the kids whose smiles perk you up and keep you going. And it's the husband who will take on both sick kids to let you run 18 miles because he knows your race is 'coming fast'.

The people who touch your life on a daily basis, even if they don't ever realize to what extent... THEY are the real superheroes.

So to the superheroes in my life... the ones who save my life every single day, thank you. Wear your capes proudly. I love you.

Tax-time TNT raffle... you know you want to!

2010-04-09T10:08:00.000-06:00

Admit it. You like food. You KNOW you do. And burgers? YUM! Reddddddd Robin... YUM!

Hahaha. Seriously though. Today through April 15th (tax day!), anyone who donates $5 or more to my TNT fund will be entered into a drawing to win a $50 gift card to Red Robin... and remember- donations are tax deductable!

So come on! Donate! Do it! You know you want to!!

(and yes, there *are* vegetarian options... no excuses!)

:)

DONATE here!

Learning...

2010-04-07T15:26:00.003-06:00

It's funny the things you never knew you didn't know... before I started training for a marathon, I had a lot of preconceived ideas about marathoning in my head.

I thought training for a marathon meant EVERY run was a long run.

I thought training for a marathon meant insta-thinness.

I thought training for a marathon meant short, fast runs were not part of the plan.

I thought training for a marathon meant that I would always feel strong- mentally and physically.

Silly girl.

What I have learned is that the short, fast runs serve a purpose. Hills make you stronger. Having a mental breakdown is part of the deal. That not all marathoners are rail thin. That you can hate AND love running all in the same heartbeat.

I've also learned that I am stronger and weaker than I ever dreamed possible. Regardless... in less than 8 weeks, I *will* be a marathoner... and for the rest of my life, nothing will ever change that. How incredible is that?

Lead legs? Nah.

2010-03-31T13:51:00.000-06:00

I read once that running is 90% mental, and the rest is in your head. Well, I can say that I belive that- utterly and completely.

The past few weeks I have felt my legs getting heavy. I assumed it was because we (coach and I) are amping up my miles, and this was a side effect of that. But... when even the stupid little 5 milers were damned near agonizing, it was time to look at the whole picture.

Looking at yourself in a 360 degree view isn't flattering. Not in a mirror, and not emotionally. Yuck!

In the last 3 months I have endured the job from hell (complete with 60+ hour work weeks!), a rough stretch in love, lost my husband's grandma, a few health scares and we lost a pet last night.

It's a lot. And it (literally) weighs heavily on me. Funny how THIS weight is harder to run with than the 100+ lbs I've lost. To be shit-faced honest, I'd rather put a fat suit on and run than carry this stuff. The fat suit is visible, and people give you space with that. The emotional stuff is invisible... even to us.

Maybe owning this crap will help me release it. Maybe.

So.

F*ck you, old job
F*ck you, love crap
and f*ck you, health drama...

I can't bring myself to tell my grief to f*ck off quite yet. Maybe someday. Maybe. ;)

Like water...

2010-03-21T21:51:00.000-06:00

Today I had an amazing run. One of those runs where everything feels good, your body cooperates, and you feel like you're moving with the earth, and not against it.

I needed this run. My week ended very, very badly, and the weekend was bearing the scars from the wounds. It was unpleasant, and I felt lost in my own head... in my own heart... until I started running.

I knew I had 14 miles to lay down, and I had a rough idea of where that would take me. I was going to take the south end of my usual trail. An unfamiliar spot to me, but exciting nonetheless. As I ran the trail, I began to watch the waters of Fountain Creek flowing next to me. It was calming... soothing to know that the waters had accompanied countless other runners before me.

Were they elite? Running newbies? Were they running in joy? In pain? Running to something? Or from something? What was their story? What's MY story?

I let the water lull me into a strong rhythm. I took my iPod off and just listened to the world around me. I let my trivial problems fall out of my mind and I let myself become part of the earth again.

Yes, I know that sounds hokie. I don't care. It's true. I was feeling so out of sorts with my emotions that I needed to reconnect to something much bigger than me. And it worked. The run was one of the best I've had in a very long time.

So good, in fact, that I PRed at the 13.1 distance for myself. PRed it. Wow. I did the full 14 miles in what was my previous race PR for the half marathon distance.

Because of the water, I just let myself run. I let myself move like the water- flowing over the earth and carving my own path.

Never going to be skinny

2010-03-18T18:10:00.003-06:00

After my run today, I had a revelation. I have been at this weight loss thing for 2 years now. And despite the fact that I am significantly smaller now than I was when I started, I am far from 'skinny'.

That doesn't mean I'm fat- I'm not. But skinny, to me, brings to mind a certain image that I am certain I will never attain.

And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm okay with having curves that clearly define me as feminine. To quote Sir Mixx A Lot- my waist is small, but my curves are kickin'. I still have a chest that is the bane of my existance as a runner... my booty is still very much a 'latina booty'.

Still... my legs have full muscle definition, my arms are getting more toned by the day. I'm not skinny, but I'm not one of those ESPN strongwoman people either... I'm... feminine in my curves. I have rounded hips, a full butt, and enough chest to warrant an occasional brabeque as protest for mistreatment.

Nope, I'm not skinny.

But...

This body is strong. I can run for hours on end.

This body is healthy. I rarely get sick, and when I do, it's not for long.

This body is fertile. It produced two gorgeous children from its depths.

I'm not skinny. I never will be. And I am okay with that.

I hate running... no, I don't.

2010-03-14T21:09:00.003-06:00

My legs are tired. My mind is tired. *I*, am tired.

This week was my recovery week, and I don't know if I recovered, or realized that I am fighting really hard for this training. It culminated on Friday with a crying fest- a complete breakdown in confidence.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am confident in all aspects of my life. I'm not arrogant, but I am certainly not one to self defeat in my thoughts. I know I am strong, I know I have lots going on for me. *shrugs*

Too bad I forgot all about that when I woke up on Friday. When I rolled over, everything hurt. My back, my arms, my legs. I just... hurt. It defeated my mind, and I started crying. Wondering if I was cut out for this. Wondering WTF I was doing. I cried for several minutes until I decided to meditate. I drew a blazing hot bath, and I sat in the dark, in the silence and just let my mind clear out. The thought that drew me out of my trance was this: Ali, you aren't fit enough for this.

WHOA.

Yes, I am. I can run for 4 hours at a time. I can bike for 5 hours at a time. I can lift weights with the best of them. I can do core work like a madwoman. I spin. I swim. Dammit, I AM fit.

It was enough to push me past the immediate funk. The confidence crisis, however, lingered. To my good friend (you know who you are), sorry that flowed right over into our conversation. Bleh on that. :( But thank you for assuring me that I would get past the confidence issues.

Too bad my runs this weekend didn't do that.

Well, not really. OK- maybe just a little bit.

I had a 5k yesterday with my daughter... not about me at all, but seeing her fight for every mile was inspiring, and it made me proud to be her mama. I was supposed to push out the other 7 miles of my run later in the day, but I spent it celebrating with her instead. No regrets there.

Today I pushed out my other 7 miles. It was cold, it was snowing, and my legs were still angry with me. The first mile was done like the old man shuffle. I kept waiting for the rhythm to hit, but it never did. The time wasn't bad, but neither did the run feel good. It was... work. I needed to lay down the miles, but my confidence also needed it to feel good, and well... it didn't.

I have determined this much though... for the first 4 miles of all of my runs, I hate running. I know how that sounds. I do... but still... I hate it. Until my legs warm up and the adrenaline hits. Then... magic. I remember... I love running. :)

This week is shaping up to be a hard one in my training. I wish the recovery had left me feeling strong, confident and rested. Alas... let's hope I survive it stronger.

Big girls don't cry...

2010-03-09T17:12:00.004-07:00

... I need to be with myself, and center
Clarity, peace, serenity

I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal- myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do

And I'm gonna miss you, like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry

This week I'm battling a cold. I've been whiny about it. It's aggravated by my asthma, and I've allowed it to keep me from training. It happens, right?

Right.

Except that today I also learned of the passing of a beautiful child- Layla Grace. We lost this gorgeous angel to cancer. I'm here whining about being 'sick', and she fought for her life bravely to the end.

Big girls don't cry. I won't cry. I can't cry. No more whining. No more tears. It's time to center myself. To let Layla's strength, Atia's strength push me harder. Further. I can do this. No excuses. I am running for something bigger than myself. I have to get my shit together and do this. It's 26.2 miles to me, but the journey is much more than that.

As a good friend said to me today 'it's all about the journey, my friend'.

He's right. It's about the journey. But I want to do this journey with mental clarity. I want to remember WHY this is more important than me finishing my first marathon.

It's time to get a move on... it's time to put my big girl panties on and DO THIS.

*deep breath*

18 miles baby- yeah!

2010-03-08T08:46:00.004-07:00

On Saturday, I did my longest run to date: 18 miles in 3h53m. I didn't set a single speed record for the distance. But I did finish every single mile under my own volition. Several friends of mine told me it would be hard. And they weren't lying.

This run was hard in every sense of the word.

Physically it was tough- the trail was muddy in the good spots, and ruddy from dried mud everywhere else. It was hilly- though the elevation profile said it was a downhill course, it was rolling hills start to finish. It was HOT- the sun was out without a single meaningful cloud in the sky. And I walked 3 times- 3 times more than I told myself I would walk on this run. Yuck.

Mentally, this run was a challenge. I have no idea why, but it just stuck in my mind as a tough distance to hit. Not the glory of 20 miles, but far more than just a half marathon.

At mile 10 I needed to pee- nature would be ignored no longer. So I stopped off the side of the trail, in a nicely wooded spot. It looked private, so I went for it. It wasn't as private as I thought. Almost instantly I heard some woots and yells... and realized that my backside was pointed at a trail I didn't notice where the Air Force cross country team was running. Oh. My. God. And to make it just a little more fun- they lapped me SEVERAL times in the next 30 minutes. Joy of all joys. :(

The exhaustion monkey crawled on my back at mile 12, and it never got off- it just kept gripping me tighter and tighter. And the more hills I saw, the tighter the grip became. I wanted to stop, I won't lie. At mile 15 I thought about it. And then I thought about the shame of posting a DNF- even on a training run, and it was more than I could bear.

The music in my head pushed me forward. The sights before me kept me awed- feeling humble and very small. The hunger in my belly propelled me- reminding me that lunch was the reward for this brutal run.

At mile 16.8 I was almost taken out of the game. A cyclist wasn't paying attention and nearly hit me. As I jumped out of the way to avoid him, I hit a groove in the trail and rolled my ankle. I screamed out several profanities, and hopped around for a few. Walked for a few more. And finally was able to run again at mile 17.2- at which point I just powered through to the end of the run.

It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't sexy. But it *was* fun, and it did teach me that I have more in me than I thought. And hey! I did it all at more than a mile above sea level- 6975 ft above sea level (a mile is 5280)!

T-minus 3 months, 5 days!

2010-03-01T07:50:00.003-07:00

My AWESOME friend Lisa started this lovely first day of March with a message that said: 3 months, 5 days until your FIRST MARATHON.

Holy crap! Is it really coming up that fast?? Will I really be in San Diego in just over 3 months?? I will be. Oh. My. God. I will be. All of this training will finally be put to the test... all of these long runs, painful legs, exhausted weekends. It will all finally be put to that test!

On to more pressing matters... :D

This weekend, I had my first truly long run in this journey. I did 15 miles of hills in beautiful Colorado Springs... I ran from Palmer Park:

To Garden of the Gods:

And then into Manitou Springs, where I did a small loop and headed back towards downtown... finally finishing up at Memorial Park:

It was an amazing run. I felt strong the entire time- which is saying a lot considering that I had 1999 ft in elevation gain through the course of the run. It wasn't the fastest time (3 hours 3 minutes), but it was solid. I ran 95% of the miles, rewarding myself in the final 3 miles with 90 second walk breaks every mile. I never hit the energy bonk that has become so familiar to me. I sustained it with a bite of sports stuff (sports beans or chomps) every 3 miles. My body settled into a rhythm, and I never let my mind fight it. It was... exactly what I wished for in this run. I felt strong. Fierce. I felt like a runner.

I'll admit it, I was nervous going into it. My quads hadn't recovered yet from the previous week's 13 miler, the week had been filled with bad runs, and mentally I was fatigued. I was questioning whether I had a full marathon in my abilities.

I don't question that today. I might question it again... no, I WILL question it again as the training gets tougher, but for now, I am content to know that I can do this. :)

You're invited to a BRA-b-que

2010-02-15T09:03:00.005-07:00

Today I learned several painful lessons...

1. getting dressed in the dark is a BAD idea, especially at 4:45 in the morning
2. chafing is an evil curse on athletes
3. tweeting that you have butt paste is never a good thing

I had a killer workout today. After a brutal run on Saturday, it was much needed. I did speed intervals, and my body actually adapted quite well to it. Funny how a speed that a year ago was beyond my comprehension feels... well... GOOD now! I love it. But I digress...

I got up a little late today- about 15 minutes. My workouts are already crammed into my morning, so I had to make haste. I got dressed in the dark so I wouldn't wake up my husband, and I damn near sprinted out the door.
The run felt good, I felt strong, and I didn't think anything of the morning. Until I got home. More specifically, until I got into the shower. I am pretty sure that the last time I screamed like that was last May after the MS 150 bike ride. And once I realized why I was screaming, I was horrified. I was chafed. Not a little, but a lot. Raw. Almost bleeding. WTF? I got out quickly, and of course, I used Twitter to try to figure out what to do about it.

Diaper creme and neosporin. Oooookay... so I looked around the house. Found a tube of diaper creme, and the pain relief neosporin. OW! More screaming. Add some cursing (yeah, I'm a bit of a sailor that way). And the diaper creme? Boudreaux's Butt Paste. I wish I was making that up....

But (haha, but) it worked. Sort of. I was able to get my bra on and some clothes without wanting to jump out of my own skin. I have a tube of it here with me at work... should make for some interesting conversations, eh?

WTF went wrong? Well... instead of my beloved Moving Comfort bra, I grabbed a god-forsaken Nike bra. BIG mistake. My MC is amazing, no movement, no jostling, nada. Just feels right. The Nike felt okay during the run, but the bouncing, apparently, was too much for its feeble strength to tolerate. Effin Nike. Warmups good... and that's about all I can do there. :(

Lesson learned. Looks like Body Glide and I will be making our acquaintances once more. For now... I am taking that stupid Nike bra and putting it on the grill tonight... BRA-b-que, anyone?

Valentine's Day LLS Love Fest!

2010-02-12T11:44:00.007-07:00

http://pages.teamintraining.org/rm/rnr10/Ambrosoa

It's a Valentine's Day LLS Love Fest! Anyone who donates to my TNT cause between noon today and 11:59pm PST on Valentines Day is entered into a drawing for a $50 dinner/movie GC. Every donation = an entry. Each additional donation = another entry! At noon on Valentine's Day (PST), my son will pick the name of the winner.

What are you waiting for? Don't want to try to win $50 for a date night? Of course you do!!

It's all about the love, baby. :)

And the winner is............. Linda V!! Congrats, and thank ALL of you who participated in this FUNdraiser...

Better With Help...

2010-02-02T18:13:00.003-07:00

I am really lucky to be part of a huge community of runners on Twitter. These guys have helped shape me as a runner- giving encouragement and guidance to make me a better runner. Last year, I was really lucky to meet Josh (aka @speedysasquatch). I have no idea how this awesome guy became part of my Twitterverse, but I am eternally grateful that he did.

JoshSquatch (as I lovingly have nicknamed him) is my running coach now. He has been for the past 8 1/2 months. When I brought Josh on board, I was at the tail end of my physical therapy for my calf. I was terrified to run again, but I was soooooooooooo ready to be back on the trails. I also knew that whatever I did to bring on my calf tear, I didn't want to repeat.

I needed a coach, and Josh was the answer. He picked me up, dusted me off, and convinced me that I could do this, and do this well. When I'd mope, he'd kick my ass. When I excelled, he kept my ego in check. And he has made me a much stronger runner.

Strong enough to best my 1/2 marathon time by 22 minutes despite injury. And strong enough to believe I can run a full marathon this year- and do it well. When I have questions, he answers them. When I am ready for more, he piles it on. And when I need a break, he listens to that too. I get a personalized training plan every week, and I can feel that I am stronger... better.

Over the past months, Josh's team of sasquatch runners has grown impressively. Team Sasquatch is a kick ass collection of amazing athletes. All of us at different levels, but none of us are seen as anything less than athletes. I am fortunate to have all of them there to cheer me on to bigger and bigger accomplishments.

I am a better runner because I know these guys, and especially, Josh are behind me. So Josh? Don't let my current endeavors fool you... I am a better runner because you are my coach. :)

Paying homage to the gods of running injuries

2010-02-01T15:59:00.003-07:00

I have been running (again) for just over two years now. Mostly. Kind of. Okay, not really. You know why? Because for 9 months of that time, I have been injured.

Strained calf in Oct 08 (out for two months)
TORN calf in Jan 09 (out for six months)
Broken foot in Nov 09 (out for a month)

9 months of injury and recovery. 9 months of paying homage to the gods of running injury. Now, I am ALL about being in good favor with the running gods, but THIS is ridiculous. THIS is not good favor. This is like paying pennance for some running sin that I am unaware I committed.

WTF?

I train for my runs, stretch, take my supplements. I've steadily lost weight so that my poor legs and feet aren't being so horribly abused.

Hello?? Running gods? ENOUGH! I don't want to wish injury on another runner, but can you focus your attention elsewhere? Please? Pretty please? I promise to sacrifice a GU packet at your statue... I will gladly leave a chalice of gatorade for you... I'll behave. Mostly. Okay. Maybe. But even if I don't behave, I'll be a good runner.

Maybe my Team in Training efforts will appease the injury gods. Just maybe. Because I am done paying homage to these guys.

S&M

2010-01-28T10:57:00.005-07:00

Today, I inadvertently did a mini-triathlon in the gym. I swam, biked and got on the elliptical. I can't lie, it hurt. But the hurt was a good hurt. I love getting to the pain threshold when I work out... knowing that with it means that I am pushing myself hard. Yeah, I know, I must be some kind of pervert right? A masochist who enjoys the pain. I guess I am, to some extent. I love the burn of a good, hard workout. Pushing myself and knowing that my body is changing because of it.

Funny thing is, as I looked around the gym, I could tell who was feeling the pain along with me, and which ones didn't mind it. As much as I enjoyed my own pain, it was cool to see theirs too. In this time of obesity and declining health in ours, the wealthiest nation in the world, it's nice to see people pushing their bodies to be stronger and healthier. That's the sadist part of me... enjoying seeing others in near-pain? Damn, now I know I'm a sicko. :)

I am fortunate to know a lot of runners. Amazing runners. New runners. In-between runners. And at one point or another, most of us have admitted that we hurt. Does that stop us? Hardly. Almost none of the runners I know stop for long. Several of us broke our feet last year- literally (not sure why we all wanted to get into THAT club... but I digress). ALL of us broken peeps were dying to get back on the road again- damned masochists. And when my friends complain of being sore, I cheer them on for it. Damned sadist.

Yep. I'm a runner... bring on the (exercise related) S&M. ;)

I'm lucky to be a runner

2010-01-18T10:22:00.003-07:00

This weekend I pushed my first 5 mile run since I broke my foot. I'll admit it, I was nervous. But the day was SO gorgeous that I couldn't restrain myself and I pushed off without hesitation.

The day was sunny and warm- no clouds in the sky, birds singing and 57 wonderful degrees out. I hit my favorite trail, and the beauty of my surroundings hit me immediately. I could see Garden of the Gods (the red rocks in the pic above) off to my right, and Pikes Peak (the mountain in the background) behind it. My soul was moved by it... it reminded me why this state is so incredibly beautiful. It also distracted me from focusing on my run... and before I knew it, my Garmin was reporting 2 miles done, and in a respectable pace for me given my rehab status.

I started off with some pounding music- thank you Papa Roach for kicking my butt through the hills- and as I got more distracted by the view, I actually turned my iPod off for a while. It was amazing to hear the sound of my footfalls and breathing. It was amazing to see how I fit into the world around me- that's a rare feeling for me, and I'll admit that I was humbled by how small I felt.

When I hit my turnaround point, I was sad. I knew that my glorious run was halfway over, and I wasn't ready to stop. I started my run with a mostly unspoken desire to finish under an hour. Yes, I know HOW slow a 12 minute mile is. I know that *aiming* for under an hour is kind of pathetic. But this was my first trail run again post injury, and I am terrified of re-injuring, so I am taking this slow and steady. Other than checking my mileage, I hadn't checked my Garmin to see what my pace was... and as I approached the 4.5 mile mark, I realized I was well on target to be under an hour. YEAH buddy! That pushed me, and pushed me hard. I put my iPod back on and Welcome to the Jungle kicked my ass up the last hill and into the 5 mile marker. 55 minutes... yaaaaaay!

I am so grateful to be able to run. So proud to be able to call myself a runner. I know they won't all feel this way, but damn, this run was like good sex and a good hair day rolled up into one sunshiny moment. :P

Being a mama is HARD

2010-01-11T13:38:00.003-07:00

Let me start by saying that being a parent is HARD. Everyday there are a thousand ways that we can f*ck our kids up... new ways to send our kids to therapy in a few years. Second, let me say that when I was growing up, food = love in our house.

Now that we've gotten THAT out of the way... I am struggling as a former fattie in my role as Mama. Moreso because I have a daughter... a lovely, smart, funny and SMART daughter. It's the smart part that scares me the most. She is very observant, and I'm pretty sure she has picked up on my food and body image issues. Of all of my hangups, this was the ONE thing I didn't want to pass on to her.

I was a chubby kid growing up. I didn't get healthy until my freshman year of high school. Being the fat kid has always stayed with me. It scars you. Leaves you wondering if people like you. It's a battle I have fought my whole life. I will probably battle it all my years. Still, I don't want my girlie to fight it too... but I don't want to be THAT mom- hawking her over what she eats, and pushing too hard about exercise. I want her to be healthy with food and exercise... I want her to see herself accurately and not with distortion.

Last night, while watching TV, she was pointing out the people who 'needed to work out more'. I was actually speechless- and for those of you who know me, you know that me being speechless is a big deal. I know she hears me talk about working out a lot. I know because she asks to work out with me almost every day (and I let her where it is appropriate for her level). She also swims and is in gymnastics <--- which freaks me out because of the body image issues in the gym all the time. Now, keep in mind that Bella has no weight issues. She is tall and slender, and built like an athlete. She prefers healthy food over all other foods. Still... I don't want my obsession with not getting fat again to create issues in her that don't need to exist.

Surely I cannot be the only mom struggling with this. I don't have the answers... but I want to know- how do I keep her healthy without making her have horrible issues?

Glug, glug, glug...

2010-01-11T12:22:00.006-07:00

- The adult human body is made up of between 55 and 60% water
- 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated
- Americans spent $68.1 billion on carbonated soft drinks last year, which totals 828 eight-ounce servings per capita

For almost anyone, this is bad news. For runners, it's especially bad. I saw a tweet today about soda making you slower. My coach was really unhappy with me last November when he found out I was drinking almost a 6 pack per day of Diet Coke. He told me that it can lead to cramping, dehydration, rapid weight gain (for full calorie sodas), and sugar crashes. I stopped cold turkey that day, and haven't had any Diet Coke since. I wish I could tell you first hand that it helped my running THAT day, but I broke my foot a couple of weeks later (maybe the two are related!), and lost about 10 pounds since. I can tell you that my running feels more lithe since I've been back running. I will also admit that before... in my fat life... I NEVER drank water. I thought it was gross- flavorless. Well, YEAH! But for me, I had a hard time distinguishing the difference between thirst and hunger. Can you guess which I usually leaned towards? Sad.

But I digress. WATER. Let's talk about how much we need! There are several approaches attempt to approximate water needs for the average, healthy adult.

Replacement approach. The average urine output for adults is about 1.5 liters (6.3 cups) a day. You lose close to an additional liter of water a day through breathing, sweating and bowel movements. Food usually accounts for 20 percent of your total fluid intake, so if you consume 2 liters of water or other beverages a day (a little more than 8 cups) along with your normal diet, you will typically replace the lost fluids.

Eight 8-ounce glasses of water a day. Another approach to water intake is the "8 x 8 rule" — drink eight 8-ounce glasses of water a day (about 1.9 liters). The rule could also be stated, "drink eight 8-ounce glasses of fluid a day," as all fluids count toward the daily total. Though the approach isn't supported by scientific evidence, many people use this basic rule as a guideline for how much water and other fluids to drink.

Dietary recommendations. The Institute of Medicine advises that men consume roughly 3 liters (about 13 cups) of total beverages a day and women consume 2.2 liters (about 9 cups) of total beverages a day.

(source: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/water/NU00283)

Me? I drink water or tea all day long. I have no idea how much I consume, but I try to never be without something to drink unless I'm sleeping. I can honestly say that I am rarely thirsty, and maybe THAT is the key. Drink up, my friends. The most interesting man is wrong- don't stay thirsty! And with that, I'm off to brew some tea... :)

Can't keep running away...

2010-01-07T14:12:00.005-07:00

And as a victim I invented low-key
'Til the keyhole itself got lower than me
So I stood up and let my free form... form free
Said I'm gonna get some before they're knockin' out me
I don't sweat it
I let the bullshit blow in the breeze
In other words just freeze
Can't keep runnin' away..... - Runnin, The Pharcyde

Today I came across the 'before' pictures I had... the ones we took to remind me that it WAS going to get better. The ones I took one look at and promptly stashed away, never to be seen again. Until today.

And the first thing out of my mouth was 'holy shit, look at that fatty'. Yes, it was amazing to see how far I've come. And when I found the pictures, I was in my gym clothes, and the effect was even more obvious (because, really, when ELSE do you find yourself running around in spandex??). I didn't know whether to be proud of how far I came, or sickened that I had to start from there in the first place.

I shared the pictures with three people- two of my close friends and my coach. All were exuberant for me over my progress, and that felt amazing. So I told one of them that I HATED the pictures because of how fat I was.

WRONG answer. Very wrong answer.

She firmly, yet kindly, reminded me that the fat girl I was ripping apart was ME. That she had been called fat by everyone else, and me doing it too was one more injury to her. She told me that the time to stop hurting her was NOW.

That fat girl is me.

No one has ever said that to me. I suppose it's obvious, but to me, I had left that girl behind. Far behind. With every run, I was running away from her. Away from EVERYthing she represented to me. Sloth. Laziness. My son's accident. Ugliness. UGLINESS <---- that, more than anything.

But in running away from her, I was only running away from myself. Because Linda (and Josh) were right. She is me. I am her. We cannot be separated because we are the same person. She brought me to where I am now. Without her, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. And for the most part, I like the woman I am today.

Of all of the people who abused that fat girl for being fat, I was the worst one. I was meaner to her... more insulting... more viscious than anyone else ever was. I loathed her with a passion that was undeserved.

It's cliche, but there WAS a reason I got fat... the agony over my son's accident... the strife it brought to my marriage... the piece it ripped out of my family... these things created a nasty void... and my whole life, the drug of choice for me has always been food. So I fed the pain. And as the weight packed on, I realized that I wanted to be invisible to the world- and let's be honest- obese women *are* invisible for the most part.

And then, I didn't want to be anymore. THAT fat girl is the reason I started running. She is the reason I met *so* many of you- and without you all, my life wouldn't be as funny, or active. I wouldn't know you without her.

So, fat me, thank you. I love you. I'm sorry I've been so horrible to you. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I promise that I will try to be kinder to you. You are worth better than I have been giving you. You *are* worthy of that love.

(and on a completely unrelated note, a HUGE thank you to Diana at http://customblogdesigns.blogspot.com/ for the new header... it fits SO much better!)

Thyroid? What stinkin' thyroid??

2010-01-03T13:59:00.003-07:00

This isn't something I think I've ever owned up to in here, but I have thyroid disease. I have a seriously underactive thyroid, and I have been on meds for it for years. Let's complicate that a little more... I also have poly-cystic ovarian syndrome with insulin-resistance. I have been on meds for THAT for years as well... well, I *was*... it occurred to me today that I don't remember when I last took a pill for it... ooops. And it's a big, ugly, bad oops.

Anyone who battles their thyroid knows how brutal it is when those hormone levels are off, even a little bit. I know pretty quickly- I get tired, my skin gets a violent break out, I start gaining weight no matter WHAT I do, and I get cranky- evilly mean and short-tempered. In the past month, I have been feeling a horrible malaise. One I attributed to depression due to being unable to run. I was exhausted, my skin was (is?) a wreck, I was gaining weight and I have been mean. ALL of which I attributed to being sidelined and in that wretched cast. Over the past four days the exhaustion has slowly overtaken me. 10-12 hours of sleep at night, a nap in the daytime and STILL devastatingly tired. Even when I am awake, I am sluggish... I feel like I am moving in slow motion... through a sea of mud. I have to fight for every action I take, and the little things are killing me... making me tired and sick. On New Year's Day, it came to a head. I was ready to go to the hospital because I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down into tears and told my husband that I was done... couldn't go on feeling like this anymore. And THAT was a wake-up call to me that it was more. It was actually my husband who pointed out the obvious to me- that it was time for more bloodwork, and that my thyroid was likely off-kilter again.

I have been busting my butt for the past 4 months to drop the last of my weight. Dieting hard, working out a lot... and I have dropped weight, but very, very slowly. Today I 'fessed up to my coach about my lack of regulation. And that, my friends, was very, very hard. In fact, *none* of my friends know about my endocrine issues. Putting it all out on the table is very freeing. But it also makes me accountable for it all. It's time to take care of this stuff. Time to stop living in denial. I want to be the runner that I can picture in my head... but the cold reality is that until I get my body to that strong hormonal point, I will be fighting against my physiology until I take care of it.

Step one: appointment with the endocrinologist. *First* appointment with the endocrinologist. I think I'm beyond what my general practitioner can handle... I'll keep you posted. But I'm a grown up, it's time to behave like one. Take care of yourselves, people. At the end of the day, you're the only one who can.

Recap, resolutions & looking at 2010!

2009-12-28T08:34:00.004-07:00

Recap:
2009 was an interesting year. It was hard from a running standpoint. It was hard from a personal standpoint. It was just... hard. It was loaded with injuries and heartache and sadness. 2009 was also very, very good to me. I did not one, but two half marathons. I did a 150 mile bike ride. I did a duathlon. I continued to drop weight. I met some of the most amazing people I have ever met- some of whom have become my closest friends. I have met runners who motivate me to be better. Runners who inspire me to be stronger. Runners who I want to BE when I grow up. I even had the good fortune to meet many of those people in person. I learned a lot about who I am, and who I want to be. It's hard to bemoan THAT.

Resolutions:
At the gym today, I noticed that there were VERY few people working out... and I have to admit, I really enjoyed it. It's nice to have your pick of machines, and not have to wait on anyone. I also know that I have to enjoy it this week- next week will be gym hell as the resolutioners charge with a vengeance. Next week will be full of those people who *swear* that this time is for real. This time they will finally DO it. And for a small handful of them, it's true. But for the vast majority of them, they will come out on Monday. They will do it with the best of intentions. They will push harder than they have ever pushed. To the wobbly leg point. To the puke threshold. They will change their diets. And a week or two later, they will burn out.

And let's be honest, I can relate to it. To the resolution. To going out as hard as possible. I don't do 'low intensity'. It's something that my coach and I are working hard on. It's something I struggle with deeply. I also struggle with wanting instant gratification. I am a product of our society- I want what I want, and I want it NOW.
But there is a huge difference between a resolution and a goal. A resolution is so absolute- it's do or die. That's not real. A goal is something you work (yeah, work- I know, what a concept) towards. You have measurable milestones. You don't give up if it gets too hard or if you have setbacks. Resolutions I HATE, goals I can get behind.

2010:
Looking forward next year is shaping up to be HUGELY active and very busy for me. My race schedule is taking shape, and it's nuts!

April- RAGNAR
May- MS150, Barkin Dog Duathlon
June- SD RnR FULL marathon, Danskin triathlon
September- Wild Women Duathlon
October- Denver RnR (half? full?) OR Nike Women in SF (half? full?)
December- LV RnR (I have a score to settle w/this race)

Wow. But good wow. How are you going to push yourself in 2010?

I'm (easing) back!

2009-12-26T18:08:00.002-07:00

I am SO excited. For Christmas, Santa not only granted my wish to have my cast removed, but my ortho cleared me to run again! CLEARED me!!

My initial over-the-top excitement quickly gave way to fear. Terror, actually. You see- while I am ready to run, and run FAR, I am also terrified for (yet another) injury to strike.

I got my cast taken off on Tuesday... and didn't work out until today. I told myself that it was because I had to get work caught up before my break... and then I told myself that it was Christmas preparations. But the stark, ugly reality is that I was afraid to do that first workout. Afraid that it would hurt. Afraid that I would find I wasn't ready... but mostly, I was afraid that my heart wouldn't be there when I hit the trail (or treadmill) again.

I was scheduled to run yesterday, but (thankfully), had family show up unexpectedly and thwarted my plans. I feigned disappointment... but really, I was secretly relieved. I felt like I had staved off the reaper one more day.

Today, however, I had no excuses... and after watching an inspiring interview with Ray Lewis this morning about having heart and determination, I knew that *today* was the day that I would test my mettle. So... off to the gym I went. The plan was to do a 10-10-10 workout- walk-run-walk; followed by a bike ride. With MUCH fear, I hopped on the treadmill and put on Mary J Blige's new release to get me going.

I can't lie... it felt GOOD. And then my first 10 minutes was up and it was time to run... so I amped up from a speed of 3 on the treadmill to a speed of 5... and I waited for the pain to hit. 2 minutes, then 4, then 8... no pain... and finally... 30 seconds left. NO PAIN!!! My lungs were a little peeved at me, but my foot felt INCREDIBLE!! I was actually sad to see my 10 minutes come to an end. I wanted to go more!! I did, however, behave. I want to do this re-entry RIGHT... I have 162 days until my first full marathon, and I have mileage goals to hit!!

Baby steps. I feel like I have done this before... oh, wait... I HAVE! But you must crawl before you walk, and walk before you run. Today... I took that first step (back) to get to 26.2. And good LORD, it felt good. :)

It's still worth it

2009-12-18T08:42:00.004-07:00

Let me start off by saying that a month in a cast is torture. There is no real way around that. It's true for everyone, I'm sure, but for a runner, it's pure mental agony. The comments people have made this past month just add insult to that injury. Mindless comments. Hurtful comments.

"THAT will teach you to run!"
"Your body is telling you that you aren't meant to be a runner!"
"It's because you're still too fat to run."
"That's why I don't run- it's dangerous!"
"You don't seriously plan on running again, do you??"

Running isn't something I just do. It's something that I am. It's a big part of how I define myself. Yes, I'm wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, employee. Yes, I'm a reader, a music addict, a geek and a movie nerd. Yes, I'm a former fat-girl, an ex-cheerleader, a hothead, and a funny girl. I'm all of that, no denying it.

But in my heart, in my soul, a HUGE part of who I am is a runner. I think about running all day, every day. I see trails and want to run them. I see other runners and wonder what it would be like to run with them. Cold weather, warm weather- it all makes me think of running. And for that, I am THANKFUL. I've said it before, and I'll say it again and again- running saved my life. It took me from morbid obesity and a bleak future to being healthy and energetic again.

Yes, this year has been hard. The injuries made 2009 a record year for me- starting with the torn calf, rounding out the middle with shin splints, and finishing off with a broken foot. But none of that is all that uncommon- I just had the amazingly BAD luck to have it happen all at once. That's just life.

I *will* run again. I am four days out from getting this cast off... and probably two weeks away from being able to do some light running. And for that- I'm thankful!

There isn't anything in this world, short of death, that would keep me from running. And I'm not sure even death would... because if there is a heaven, my heaven will be full of running trails, good shoes, and people to run with. :)

The twelve days of Christmas- runners edition!

2009-12-13T08:11:00.006-07:00

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- a subscription to Runner's World!

("Clark, that's the gift that keeps on giving throughout the entire year." Cousin Eddie- Christmas Vacation)

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- seven sports massages, six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- eight racing bibs, seven sports massages, six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- nine tech tees, eight racing bibs, seven sports massages, six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- ten running socks, nine tech tees, eight racing bibs, seven sports massages, six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- eleven GU packets, ten running socks, nine tech tees, eight racing bibs, seven sports massages, six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

On the twelvth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me- twelve healthy months of running, eleven GU packets, ten running socks, nine tech tees, eight racing bibs, seven sports massages, six (point 21) strong miles, five new jog bras, four pairs of running tights, three cases of cyto, two running shoes and a subscription to Runner's World!

It's about more than just the bling...

2009-12-09T07:33:00.003-07:00

As you all know, I was out in Vegas last weekend for the inaugural RnR race... and since I paid (a lot) for my bib & shirt, I did pick it up AND I wore it to the race (the bib) on Sunday. (wanna see the most expensive tee in my closet? only $110!!)

Cheering for the race was fun (though FREEZING cold)... and while my heart hurt a lot because I wanted to run so badly, it was cool to see several of my friends PR this one. Congrats, guys, you earned this one.

Had I finished this race, it would have been my second RnR this year... and that means Heavy Medal- cool! But since I didn't finish, my medal count for the year is shy by two- which I was (semi) okay with... that is, until I was at the race itself.

I stood next to another runner to cheer- he couldn't run because the race sold out. We got to chatting (seeing someone with a bib on while wearing a cast is a GUARANTEED conversation starter, trust me) and in the course of our chat, he told me that I should shuttle to New York, New York and walk through the finish line to get my medal since I paid for it.

I have to admit that it sounded tempting... because the medals for the RnR races ARE nice... but then I stopped and it bothered me. Those medals are meant to reward the people who sweat, bleed and push their way across those finish lines. Those medals are meant to MEAN something, even if that meaning is only symbolic and important to the owner of that medal. Any jackass can buy a medal (check out eBay if you don't believe me). But I want the medals on my race board to mean something. Taking that guy's advice would have cheapened every other bib and medal on my board. Would have cheapened the medal for everyone else who *truly* finished the race on Sunday.

Bling is nice. The more I race, the snobbier I get about finding races with nice schwag and nice hardware... but even with that, it has to mean something to me in order for me to collect it. I'm sure there are a LOT of other runners who don't feel that way (I know of at least one), but it's a principle thing to me. I guess what I'm saying is that it's not enough to possess the medals- I want to earn all of them, or I don't want them.

Live from LAS VEGAS!!

2009-12-04T08:29:00.003-07:00

After planning for it for almost a year, I am finally in Las Vegas for the Rock n Roll Half Marathon. I forgot how much I love the sights of this crazy city.

And it IS crazy here this weekend. The RnR Marathon, Santa Marathon, National Rodeo finals, NASCAR awards ceremony and semi-pro football championships are all here this weekend. The airport last night was an insane mixture of OMG and WTF people watching... big blue haired old ladies, seriously hard core cowboys... and of course- RUNNERS!!

Vegas is a hotbed of distractions for people like me- my ADD is on hyperdrive already and I haven't even been here 12 hours yet. I think I sound a bit like a monkey on crack- ooooh- ooooh- oooooooooh!!! Look here, check that out, do this, do THAT!!!

But even all of this distraction and excitement can't take away the ache in my heart about not being able to run on Sunday... and the reminders are everywhere from the lone running shoe I have to wear w/my warm ups to the news coverage about the race(s). It's tough, and it sucks, and I am so far BEYOND disappointed that I can almost taste it.

This is really NOT how I'm supposed to be enjoying Las Vegas. Not how this trip was supposed to play out... I should be carb loading today. Taking a light run around the hotels to loosen up my legs. Stretching. Prepping to kill my PR- again!! I should be ON the course, not standing next to it cheering.

Yesterday, I put serious consideration into walking the half-marathon. Yes, in my cast. It wasn't a passing thought, and I was mulling on it for a large chunk of the day. That is, until my coach and some people very close to me threatened to disown me if I even attempted it. One of my favorite people even threatened to cut off communications with me for an undisclosed amount of time if I went through with it.

Point taken. I won't be walking on Sunday, though my heart will be aching to. Wearing a bib and NOT participating is just cruel and unusual. It really is.

I know I sound like a broken record... I'm not oblivious to that. But damn... I feel so cheated. And feeling cheated in Vegas is a cardinal sin.

Wheeee!

2009-11-25T08:43:00.001-07:00

Yep. They casted it. 4 weeks in this, then we'll recheck it.

A cast. Geeez. Or, as a friend of mine said- putting a cast on a runner is like putting a parking boot on a car- you guarantee it won't move.

Well... she's right about that much! :)

Happy birthday, Bella!

2009-11-23T16:37:00.001-07:00

Make a Smilebox greeting

And just like that, I'm on the DL...

2009-11-22T15:11:00.002-07:00

(not my actual x-ray)

Yesterday I had a really, really good run. I woke up early, had some oatmeal, and pushed out on an amazingly beautiful day for late-fall in Colorado. My gait was strong, and I was on pace to hit the mark set for me by my coach- 12 miles in 2h12m or better. Remarkable for me.

At mile 8, the outside of my foot hurt- like a deep cramp. No big deal- I stopped, rolled my ankle around & used the curb to roll my foot. I waited a couple of minutes, and pushed off again- more sore than before, but still strong. I finished my run in 2h17m... 5 minutes shy of the goal I set out for. I felt strong, proud, alive. Happy. My foot was screaming at me, but ice and motrin silenced it, and I was able to get through my day- mostly ambulatory.

Before bed last night, it was extremely sore, and I thought that taping it (kinesiotape) and elevating it would take care of it by morning. Boy, was I wrong. Really wrong. When I rolled out of bed, I actually cried out as I stepped on the foot... I gave it a minute, and went downstairs to hang w/the family. As we hung out, I gave myself a pedicure, and THAT was when I realized that something was truly wrong. As I rolled my foot to the outside to paint those nails, the pain brought tears to my eyes and I once again cried out. WTF? Enough was enough... at my husband's urging, I loaded up and went to the Urgent Care center to get checked.

11:57 am and I got the bombshell. My 5th metatarsal has a non-displaced fracture on the distal edge. Or, in plain English, my pinky toe is fractured from where it attaches to my foot to about halfway down my foot. Clean break. No issues. I asked the doc if this meant no running, and when she laughed, I broke into tears.

How the hell am I injured AGAIN?? I swear, this is a song and dance that I am done with. I started 2009 injured, and now I'm ending the year the same way. There is no justice in that. I had a chance to run Boston, but in all reality, will NOT be ready by April for 26.2. Not even close. Did I somehow piss off the running gods? Did I offend them?

I want to scream at the unfairness of this. But instead I'm going to channel that anger into getting better. Into really healing from this... coming out stronger and better because of it. And, as the doc said- fractured bones actually end up being stronger after they heal, if allowed to heal properly. Okay.

I can do this. I can. I know I can. I can, right?

I get knocked down, but I get up again.

You're NEVER gonna keep me down. - Chumbawumba

Let's see how far we've come...

2009-11-18T08:16:00.004-07:00

March 15, 2008... HUGE day for me as a runner. That was the day I ran my first race. (Okay, so not my FIRST, first race- I was a runner in HS and college, but stopped when I shattered my ankle in 1998... so my first race in a long time and first race while recovering from being fat. ) On January 1, 2008 I took my first ever run. I remember that run vividly... I went all of 1 city block before I couldn't go any further. I sat on the curb, and I cried. it was humbling. It was humiliating. And it was the first step, though I didn't know it at the time.

A few days later, I started the Couch to 5K program... it was brutal for me at the time. Going from weighing 250 to running a 5k in 12 weeks seemed... well... extremely ambitious. In that time, I dropped a quick 30 lbs, and I DID end up doing the 5k at the very end of the 12 week program... I remember running that race and feeling lithe... feleing slim and healthy.

Looking back at the picture, I can see that I was far from it. But I still take great pride in that picture. THAT was the first time I felt like a 'real' runner. Like I could accomplish anything. That was a very slow 5k, my friends- 38m42s. But I ran the whole thing. No walking. And as you can see, I finished with my head held high. And why not? I did the (seemingly) impossible that day. I was still quite fat, and yet, I ran.

It's almost been two years since I started this journey. And still, I'm not at my goal weight. Not even close- I'm shy by about 30-ish more lbs. It's STILL frustrating and STILL hard. But I have come a very long way in that time. In 3 weeks, I will run my third half-marathon (all ran this year). Next year, I will run my first full marathon... and in the years that are yet to come, I will add in triathlons and more...

I keep reading posts on Twitter, blogs, and articles by people who don't want to race until they are skinny enough to race. I guess I understand that mentality on some level... and yet, a whole different part of me wants to scream JUST RUN! Who cares if your body isn't perfect yet. Who cares that you don't LOOK the part of a runner. If you are out there pushing yourself, then you are. Besides, it's a great way to PR almost every race as you drop weight. ;)

Losing confidence...

2009-11-08T19:01:00.004-07:00

It occurred to me this morning that it's been a little bit since my last running-related blog entry. It's not surprising, really. Something hit me after I PRed in Albuquerque, something ugly, and heavy and hard to shake... self doubt.

Or, more accurately, I lost my confidence. My workouts since mid-October have been brutally hard... which would be fine, except, my grace- or lack thereof- smacked me on the head last weekend... while out playing with my kids at the park, I rolled my ankle horribly. I didn't think much of it at the time, but quickly (like a few hours), the ankle swelled up, bruised slightly and was excruciating to walk on. CRAP.

I spent the rest of that night RICEing the ankle, and praying that it wasn't a true 'injury'. I took that night, and the next day off from working out. And then I did a spinning class on Monday, elliptical + strength on Tuesday, ran 5M on Wednesday and all hell broke loose again. NOOOOOOO.

After a full week of this, my coach is pretty sure I have a high ankle sprain. I've been bracing my ankle all week... icing it like crazy... keeping it elevated... and today, it's *still* painful.

LV is less than a month away. I haven't had a good run since Albuquerque, more than 2 weeks ago. Bad running + injury + PMS all add up to a serious loss of confidence. It got bad enough that on Friday I seriously considered dropping out of LV all together- saving myself the humiliation. I am meeting a LOT of my Twitter friends in LV... and somehow, the overall effect of my confidence death was doubting EVERYthing about myself. As a former fattie, I worry that the look I project is STILL a fat chick. I worry that my slowness will be an inside joke for everyone there. I worry that my friends will look at me and change their minds (hey- I never said that hormone induced terror was rational!)

And so, last night, I confessed to my doubts. And was quickly smacked down, Twitter style. It was swift, it was tough-love, and it was exactly what I needed. I wasn't fishing for compliments or love... which is why receiving both from my friends was THAT much more amazing. They reminded me that almost all runners lose confidence at one point or another... that I was not alone in this one. That even if it feels lonely, there is someone else out there feeling it too. That helps... more than I can say.

Am I confident once more? HELL no... but I know now that it doesn't matter. Not one bit of it. Because the fact remains that I will dust off, move on, and run again tomorrow. Slow, painful, whatever it is, it will by MY run, and I will enjoy it. And whether I celebrate it, or kick my own ass over it, or do anything with it, my buds will be there to commiserate with me... and then gently push my ass back into my running shoes for the next round.

Venting about a victory...

2009-11-03T16:47:00.003-07:00

For those of you who don't know, an American man won the NYC Marathon this past weekend... after a VERY long hiatus from the podium (do any of you remember Alberto Salazar? Yeah, me neither- too young!)... this should be an amazing reason to celebrate, right?

Right?

Sure. For most of us. However, some jackholes have taken it upon themselves to be asshattish and look for a reason to deride this incredible feat by Meb. These are asshats from the same camp as the 'birthers' doing the same thing to President Obama... they're questioning his citizenship.

Granted, Meb was not born in the US. But he HAS been here 22 years, and is legally an American citizen. Did you read that? AMERICAN CITIZEN. Legally. No questions about it.

And STILL that is not enough for the naysayers. Because according to them, a 'true' American didn't win this weekend.

What??

True American?? Please. None of us, save those of us who are a member of a Native American tribe are 'true' Americans. Not. A. Single. One. Of. Us. All of us are children of immigrants of some sort- some here voluntarily, some not. But the fact remains, that we are transplants to this amazing country. We don't own the exclusivity on this land.

Meb passed the tests- INS style AND running style. He is a result of American-based training. He is OURS.

So to you naysayers? I say fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off. Being an American is more than looking the part... and by being asshats, you make me ashamed to lump myself into the same camp as you.

I hope to God that the rest of the world knows that Americans aren't all intolerant bastards.

Meb? Congratulations. You really do make me proud to be an American.

Life isn't just about running... (a non-running post)

2009-10-27T14:59:00.002-06:00

As you all know (especially those of you who have been here for years- scary, huh- YEARS), this time of year is usually very hard for me. I usually spend this last week of October in a serious depression- missing the original version of my son- AJ, and crying about what we lost that day.

This year is different though... I'm not depressed. That kind of freaks me out... I'm not 'over' this... not by a long shot. And yet... I don't feel the need to mourn this year. AJ is a happy kid... he's strong in his own way. And believe me when I say he does NOT feel sorry for himself. He's just... AJ. So if he's happy, why shouldn't *I* be?

I recently read a post by a disabled man. In it, he was venting about his mom... and what really caught my eye was something along these lines 'she is so sad because of what happened to her... what happened to HER?? it didn't happen to her, it happened to me.'

And you know what- he's right. This didn't happen to me, it happened to AJ. And thank GOD he was young enough that for him, this new reality is just reality. He can't remember his infancy, so to him, this is just life. And yet, he still manages to smile, and smile a lot. It's one more lesson that my beautiful boy is teaching me... one that I think I'll hold on to for a long time to come.
Happy Halloween, everyone. I mean it. Enjoy it. Dress up. Act like a kid again. Smile. Laugh. Enjoy being alive. We will... and I'll post the pictures up after we go trick or treating.

For now, enjoy these pics taken at the coffin races this past weekend:

Playing around...

2009-10-25T17:44:00.002-06:00

Today I had the BEST day I've had in ages. And it started off with a horrible run... painful. My shins and left calf declared war on me, and after 4 agonizing miles, I had to concede the loss to my legs. I walked the last 1/2 mile to the house feeling dejected and angry. After a PR run last Sunday, it was humbling to have such a bad one only a week later.

But when I got home, things all changed. My daughter was waiting at the door for me- and she was cheering for me. I told her that my run was bad, but she didn't get it. 'But you got to play for an hour, Mommy... how is that bad?' I started to go into the usual grown up answers about what makes a run bad, and finally decided to just shower and shake the run off.

I was enticed after my shower into playing with my daughter. We ran around the yard until the snow stopped us. We danced around the kitchen to cheesy hip hop music from back in the day. We baked muffins. We laughed. We had fun in that way that kids are best at having fun- unstructured, unplanned, and uninhibited. And it made me rethink my running.

For months I have been obsessed with my times, my performance, every little detail related to my run... and that's not a bad thing... and yet... it is. It's horrible because it takes running from something natural and fun, to something that is work and boring... and grown-up.

As adults, we really tend to lose touch with having fun. Not going out for beers fun. Not watching a movie fun. But pure, unadulterated fun- running, and playing, and feeling the wind in our faces. We forget how good it feels to just let loose and move. We are so worried about looking cool that we don't stop and just PLAY.

To hell with that. Running is fun. It's pure... look at any playground during recess, and you'll see RUNNING. Tag. Chase. Running from one piece of equipment to the next. Kids rarely walk, they RUN... and why wouldn't they?? Running feels good, it makes us free and strong.

I can't say I won't track my details (for one thing, my coach needs them to help me become a better runner)... but I think for a while I will remind myself that running really is a way of playing. I do it because it's fun, and it feels good. I do it because I can... so 'bad' runs be damned. I'm pretty sure my daughter will never tell me about a bad game of tag, right?

1/2 Marathon #2- done AND PR'ed baby-

2009-10-19T20:12:00.001-06:00

This weekend I had the good fortune to be able to go home... AND race. Racing is amazing. Going home is amazing. Racing AT home... well, there are few words for how great that is.

The weekend started off really nicely- with a visit with some friends. MUCH needed, and it set the tone for what ended up being one of the best weekends I've had all year.

Saturday took me to the Expo (LOVE the expo) and to pick up my race packet. Bib #1077- lucky 7's!! I have to admit, the lucky 7's were a sweet surprise. So... the good stuff. Can you believe I FAILED at carb loading?? Who fails at carb loading?? Oh yeah... *I* do. I have to admit, for a former fattie, carb loading still comes with a lot of difficulty for me. Still, I know how important it is, so off to lunch I went. No dice. NO dice. I tried to choke down some lunch, and managed about 15 bites. NOT good. Tried to eat some candy during Where the Wild Things Are... again, NO dice. Race nerves were in full force, and I felt like I was chewing paste. GAG! Fine... after the movie, we decided to get the kiddos some ice cream... nope. ARRRGH!!! Dinner rolled around... pasta time! I LOVE pasta... LOVE it... and, three for three on the failed carb loading attempt. I managed to gag down 4 ravioli and a few bites of bread before I decided it was a loss. Good thing I was able to chug down Gatorade throughout the day... hydration and some sugar. I knew it wasn't enough, but had to be good enough. I finally gave up on the day, and let myself pass out around 9. What. The. Fuck. What a mess!

I woke up on my own at 5 am... RACE DAY! After the debacle that was my first 1/2 in Phoenix, I was nervous. No, make that sick-to-my-stomach, dear GOD am I doing this, out of my mind freaked out. I got up, walked around the block a few times, and made my breakfast- waffles w/peanut butter. Yep, you guessed it, gagged through about 1/2 of the waffle and a few bites of banana before I gave up. Slammed some more Gatorade, and got myself ready. There is something VERY therapeutic about gearing up for a race. Tights- check. HRM- check. Glide- check. Sunscreen- check. Shirt w/bib- check. Got to the race in time to see the 5k'ers take off and was met with a HUGE surprise- my Dad was there to see me off!! WHOA!! Great shock, but it really hyped me up.

*BOOM* Race gun went off. I let the adrenaline of the other racers pace me and settle me in, and I just let my legs move. The morning was cool, the sun was rising over the mountains, and I was savoring all of the sights of my hometown. And it worked. The first 9 miles passed like nothing- smooth, easy miles. I was GUing every 3 miles, and it was breaking up the race into smaller runs... perfection! At the 10 mile mark, I was on pace to finish in 2'20! WHOA!

WHOA is right. Seconds after passing mile 10, I hit the wall. HARD. My legs got very heavy, and my brain felt so tired. SHIT! I slowed to a fast walk, popped a GU (a few miles early) and some Gatorade and poked my iPod (yes, Josh, I used my iPod) until I found a power song... and after about a minute, I was good to run again... for about 10 minutes. Then I slowed AGAIN to a walk. WHAT THE HELL. NO! More Gatorade, more power song, and I pushed on again. Over and over. Rinse, repeat. I did this horrible dance until mile 12.5... and then it hit me. I was almost done, and was about to PR the race. PR. The. Race. YES!

I rounded the corner, and saw my family cheering for me- signs in hand, screaming my name. 9 people there for me, and only me. It was all I needed to see. I pushed through the last 100 yards with everything I had left in me.... and PR'ed by 22 minutes.

22 minutes. Holy God. I went from a 3h5m 1/2 marathon in Phoenix in January (complete with a calf tear at mile 10); to a 2h43m 1/2 marathon in Albuquerque in October. I've been running again for 4.5 months. 0-13.1 in 4.5 months. Oh. My. GOD. Wow. WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!

I'm happy. No, I'm fucking thrilled. THRILLED. I'm proud of myself. Proud of the work that I put into this. And while this isn't THE race I'm looking to nail this year, I am really glad that this is the race that sets the stage for Las Vegas.

And for once, I'm hoping that what happens in Vegas will NOT stay in Vegas.

YEAH BUDDY.

The hazards of being a runner...

2009-10-13T21:17:00.004-06:00

Since I started running, I've heard from people how 'dangerous' it is for me. I'll tear up my knees. Give myself a heart attack. Encounter a wild animal. And while I don't agree with any of them (well, maybe the wild animal once since I've already had an encounter with a deer), I understand the sentiment of the worries for the 'dangers'.

Last night I had a far scarier experience. I was running at twilight, and my two fears were creeps (in cars or out walking) or tripping over an unseen hazard. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined what I really encountered out there...

It was late in my run. I was already at that point in my distance when I knew that home was just over the hill, and I was pushing hard, but it felt steady and good. I'll admit it, I was pretty lost in my music, the scenery (orange and gold leaves lining my trail), and how good it felt to run... so when the car pulled up next to me, I was rather surprised. A bit scared- a woman running alone always fears stuff like that, even with mace in hand. I foolishly relaxed when I realized it was a car full of women. They didn't slow to a full stop, just enough so I could see their laughing faces moments before a cup came flying at me, and they sped off screaming God only knows what... it was a nearly-empty Big Gulp cup, and yes, it hit me.

My initial reaction was fear- what the fck was in the cup?? Then I was confused- why?? And then I pushed harder- I just wanted to get home, and off the craziness of the road. It wasn't until my husband freaked out on the 'assault' that the anger set in. What. The. Fck. I wasn't bothering anyone. I wasn't on the street. I was out, enjoying the 'art of movement' (as my awesome friend Ron calls it).

What possessed those women to throw something at me? Why?

After chatting with others about it on Twitter, I learned that I'm not alone in this- and it's not an isolated incident. WHAT?!?! Why??? What is it about someone out exercising that is SO threatening to some people? What makes them think it's okay to throw cups, batteries, fruit, and trash at runners/cyclists?? What makes a driver think it would be funny to veer their vehicle at someone in 'jest'?

Jennifer offered to fight dirty to get them back. Gregg thinks I should run w/a bow and arrow (which lead to a whole other interesting 'cupid runner' conversation... but I digress). But mostly, people were upset for me. Me? I hope all four of the women in that car get raging diarrhea and hemorrhoids. I hope the heartburn from their 7-11 snackfest was vurp worthy. But mostly, I hope someone, someday throws trash at THEM for trying to better themselves.

In hindsight, I'm a bit upset- though not enough to stay off of the trails or the roads. I have as much right to be out there as they do in their cars. If anything, it will ultimately make me a stronger runner- one who will be able to run hard enough and fast enough to get away from jackholes like them.

Be safe, runners/cyclists/walkers. Be strong. But mostly, be happy. :)

Running in the shadow of greatness...

2009-10-09T13:40:00.006-06:00

There are people in this world who make such an impact on your soul that you are forever changed because of them. My Grandpo is one of those people.

Gentle, kind, warm, inspiring. He was the first truly amazing role model I had in my life, and that lasted his whole life... he was a scholar (a rarity in Latinos of his era), a family man, an athlete... he was creative (he built his house almost from scratch!), artistic (photography is the other great gift that he gave to me)... spiritual... humble. He was all that I wanted to be... all that I want my kids to be!

In a time when physical fitness was not the norm, he was out there running, 10 miles a day, every day of his life. He ran marathons until Alzheimer's no longer allowed him to run. He pushed his grandchildren to be more active. I posted this waaaaaaaay back when about my first 'fun run':

Let me preface this by saying that my Grandpo was an amazing runner... he ran until he was physically unable to do so at the age of 75. He encouraged all of us to do the same... and I miss him every single day.I was a chubby child... a harbinger of things to come, I suppose. My Grandpo was determined to 'fix' that. So one lovely Saturday morning (a typical Albuquerque summer day), he picked up me and my brother (an equally chubby child) up for some 'fun'. It was Grandpo, so we thought- hey! A movie... maybe the zoo... ooh, maybe Uncle Cliff's (a local amusement park)...Har-de-har-har... what we did was go downtown for a run. No, not to WATCH, but to run. I don't think I had ever run further than from the living room to the kitchen for some fresh tortillas... I remember it vividly (in technicolor!)... the sights, smells, sounds. It was a one mile 'fun' run. I thought I was going to die. That mile seemed to stretch out to forever. Why, God, why? My Grandpo loved me! This wasn't 'fun', this was hell!And then I crossed the finish line... I remember getting a medal, and the smile on my Grandpo's face... and then and there an addiction was born. I haven't always nourished that addiction, but like a silent flame, it's burned on in my heart since that day. For me, it's how I keep my much loved, and much missed Grandpo alive. That flame. So, while my first run wasn't much 'fun', most of my runs since have been.

I still think of that run. Often. It's been 22 months since I took that fateful first run after allowing myself to get fat. 22 months, and I will never stop. This time next year, it will be 32 months... and so on and so on. There are times when I feel like I am running in a shadow so large I will never be able to cast a shadow of my own. How will I ever be as amazing as my Grandpo was?

Last weekend, my daughter ran in the pumpkin fun run. She finished first of all girls. FIRST. And when she finished, she and I stood at the finish line and cheered the other runners in... and when it was all said and done she said 'mommy, now I'm a real runner like you.'

Like me? Me?? All I've ever wanted to be is a real runner like my Grandpo.... and here's my six-year old sweetheart telling me that she's a real runner like me

Maybe that shadow wasn't ever meant to keep me running in the darkness... maybe, just maybe it was meant to help me cast a bigger shadow for my kids... so that they can cast an even bigger shadow for their kids. Maybe someday, Bella's kids will say 'I want to be a real runner like Grandma Alicia'. (yikes, that was scary to type... but I digress.)

I love you Grandpo. You were my idol then. You're my idol now. And next week, you will be running with me- close to my heart, as always.