The day I met Allistaire

Not so long ago, I was blessed with the opportunity to go to an Obliteride event for Nuun. Obliteride is an event that urges cyclists to raise money (and awareness) for cancer research for the Fred Hutch foundation in the Seattle area. If you are a rider and want to do something for the greater good, check them out - seriously! They are a fantastic group of folks and I think what they are doing is fantastic. I felt a little out of place at the event; I didn't ride, fundraise, wasn't a major monetary contributor, didn't have cancer and wasn't a Fred Hutch employee. But then this little girl walked in, bald and beautiful, and I was immediately grounded. This swollen little girl with no hair who had already seen more hardship than most of us will in our lives was a gorgeous little girl with a sweet giggle and smile; her name is Allistaire. She seemed so comfortable around strangers at such a young age, but also seemed wary of what everyone was up to. I can't blame her; she has spent a majority of her life in hospitals visiting with countless doctors, specialist and nurses who all have something to say or do about the cancer that was ruthlessly attacking her body. I had been watching her jump around and kept smiling at her, and finally her and her grandpa came over to my table to say hello. She seemed timid, but not afraid, and politely introduced herself. She then told me she wanted to introduce me to her mom, and with a quick nod of approval from her grandpa we started up the stairs to find her mom. She was adorable, taking each step with care and talked about how old she was and her favorite color and animal. She even asked me a few questions! We got to the top of the stairs and she ran over to her mom, tugged on her dress, and said to me 'this is my mom!' I said hello to mom and explained that I had met Allistaire downstairs and was brought up for an introduction. Her mom was sweet, and after a little bit of chatting the event started and we all returned to our seats for the videos and presentations.

Now, I won't bore you with the details. There were some amazing doctors in the room and some amazingly uplifting stories that were told. And then, Allistaire's mom got up and began to talk. At 21 months, her daughter was very sick and after visiting the doctor was given some terrible news; her daughter had a very rare and very aggressive form of blood cancer, Acute Myeloid Lukemia. Now three years old, Allistaire has gone through three treatments and two Stem Cell transplants thanks to Fred Hutch. The team is working hard to kill the cancer in her little body, but the war hasn't been won yet.

And here was a little girl, listening to a movie on an iPad with her pink headphones as her mom talked in front of a crowd about fighting for her three year old and having her life change completely because of these damn aggressive cancer cells. Her love for her daughter was radiating, but you could feel the heartbreak, you could see her sadness when she talked about how hard it was. Having to look at a little 3 year old who's gone through so much already and been stripped of that innocence small children all should have and that we all envy was so hard. I wanted to give and take away. I wanted to give her things all children should have - happiness, health, smiles and bike rides and sunshine and swimming and squealing and popsicles and big eyes and hair bows and jumping from steps. I wanted to take away this idea that life was attacking her, take away the hospital beds and the scary people and the tubes and IVs and the death serum and the sickness and the tears and the why's and the sick food and the cancer.

I left with a feeling of sadness as well as gratefulness. I have been blessed with relatively good health and while some family members and some of those close to me have struggled with cancer and other terrible diseases, never did it strike so young. I can not even begin to imagine the thought of knowing your child's life is being threatened; hearing a doctor say those words and watch your child struggle with getting through each day. Cancer is a fight for everyone, but its an especially huge fight for a person so small. I was amazed at her family's grace and ability to speak about their current situation; it takes amazing strength to be able to keep your composure and maintain yourself while fighting for the life of your child. And I know NO ONE would ever want this, for anyone, but I left just hoping that when the time comes that I have children, I just want them to be healthy. I want healthy children because I can't imagine the heartache that comes along with seeing your very own child in so much pain, fighting such a fight at a young age. Its hard enough to see friends and family who are adults go through such tremendous struggles, but I can't imagine the pain associated with the uncertainty of your child's life.

I am so beyond grateful for my health, and while I hope that I never have to watch my child struggle through something so difficult and life altering, I know that I will fight like hell for anything that has to do with my children. I am also grateful for the kind strangers who donated amazing amounts of money to Obliteride and all other like events for the sake of killing cancer. The unity that comes from fighting such a terrible disease is amazing; no matter what event you attend or where you attend it, its clear that everyone is able to relate to one another, bonded by a desire to kill cancer. I am also grateful for all the science that has improved treatment to allow this little girl to reach her third birthday (and hopefully many more). Grateful for the doctors who spend countless hours pouring over each case in an attempt to better lives.

Way sad story, right? And you hope you never go through that. We all pray for that same thing. But maybe take the time to explain to your children what other kids are fighting for. Maybe look into donating some things to a Ronald McDonald house. Maybe donate a month of yoga to a parent, or a gym membership, to allow them time to themselves so they can be more present with their child. Or a spa day, a massage, a hair appointment. Donate to people's teams or causes if you can, or at least share their word. If you have the time, hospitals love volunteers (strict schedules, though). Be grateful for what you have, no matter what it is; we all have mixed bags and we just have to take it in stride with people who love us by our side!

Why I am rich (and no, its not what you think)

I should have posted this when I wrote it (over the Thanksgiving holiday), but I still think its as relevant as ever.

I try to be a pretty thankful person, but some days life gets the best of me. We all have those moments where we feel a little overwhelmed or annoyed with our circumstances. And sure, we are all allowed those moments because sometimes life DOES get you down. It gets everyone down at some point or another, and if anything those times should make you appreciate what you DO have WHEN you have it; be thankful. For the most part, I am so thankful that I grew up in a loving and supportive family, never went hungry (relatively speaking), was able to receive a quality education, was allowed and ENCOURAGED to think on my own, introduced to many walks of life, felt empowered to be a woman, was able to chase my passions and dreams, had warm and clean clothes for all seasons, had my own bed in a clean house and had access to health care of any kind. I could be interested in whatever I wanted and the only real struggle when I was younger was having enough time and energy for all that life offered. I always figured other families or kids had it better than I did, because from the outside it might have seemed that way. They had more money, didn't wear hand-me-downs, had nice and big houses and didn't have to eat a sack lunch every day. They went out to dinner and the movies and shopping while I stayed at home. Even growing up, it seems others have it so much better with their newer and nicer cars, endless outfits and numerous nice things. But while my life may have been (and continues to be) modest at best, I have learned to appreciate things in my life that no amount of money could have ever given me.

Having now traveled to some pretty poverty stricken areas, I am thankful that I can simply drink from my tap when I am thirsty. If I am cold, I can turn my heat on. I am lucky enough to live without any major setbacks in regards to my health. I can easily get around with my car (when it works). I have access to any kind of education I could ever want - its just up to me to make it all happen. I have healthcare, can speak my opinion about anything freely and am happy to say I am allowed to compete against guys on a regular basis AND beat them; my gender has never held me back. I live in a country that, for the most part, I am ok with living in. I can read and write and talk with friends whenever I want via twitter, facebook, text, phone, email and pigeon. I have access to parks and nature and other community supported areas. I can, for the most part, live and travel freely and without worry. I can be outside without fear for my life. I have more than enough access to food, even when I lived on a really limited budget. Anything I want to chase and make happen for myself or my family, I can. While I do work, I also have free time to spend with family and friends.

Yes, I always wish things were better. I wish I had a new car, more shoes and an endless supply of jackets. I wish I had unlimited air miles to fly everywhere and even more vacation time. I wish I could buy my boyfriend that bike he's been eyeing to add to his bike collection (8 bikes right now). I think we all do that; we all want more and think about the future. We all look at taking that next step, big or small. Even this hunger is a gift; we have the ability to think beyond today, to dream and want more and also have the ability to make it happen. We always have the ability to make our lives better and to work at achieving our dreams.

And so here it goes, what I am thankful for (warning: lots of 'thankful and 'grateful' in the next paragraph):

So this Thanksgiving, I will be thankful for all the places I have been and for all the world has taught me so far. I will reflect on how lucky I am for my life and my circumstances, no matter how difficult it may be at times. I will be grateful for all the people that have walked in and out of my life and how they have motivated, intrigued, inspired or pushed me. I will be thankful for the people who have taken the time to truly know me, to truly understand me (as best they can, anyways). I will be grateful for all the changes that life brings. I will be thankful for the sincerity and authenticity of the human race in trying times. I am thankful for sun, outdoors, sweat and smiles. I will be grateful for all the things that keep my life from being lame and boring. I am grateful for the ability to do 'big' things in my life, even though most are only things I'm aware of. I am thankful for those moments that I feel so inspired and so happy. I am thankful that I have people in my life to love me, to support me, hold me, cry with me, laugh with me, fight with me and inspire me to do things I would have never thought possible. I am thankful for dreams to keep me moving forward. I am thankful for the trying times of life, because while these aren't enjoyable times they are inevitable times that we will all face. These are the times that strengthen me, shape me and bring me closer to those things and people that I love and cherish.

Lastly, I am thankful for me. For all the years and times of me. I am grateful that no one can ever tell me how much of 'it' I have. All the moments are mine, all the laughs and tears and smiles are mine and no one else can dictate that. All of my choices have led me to this point, this amount of undeniable happiness that I am grateful for. I am thankful for all that the life I have lived has gifted to me.

I am officially a half marathoner!

Well, I did it! I am officially a half marathoner and I am pretty proud to be able to say that after starting running only three and a half months ago! I met my original goal of running a sub 1:45 half marathon with a 1:41 but wish I would have ran faster. But, as you all know, that’s the challenge of athletics and I can’t wait to run one again to have another shot at a faster time.  

A couple months ago I decided to run the Snohomish River Run outside of Everett, WA. It was a small race, well organized and flat and the timeline seemed to work for me. I didn’t want to run a huge race for fear that the sheer number of people and largeness of the event my crush my tiny little runner soul that’s still blooming. I was hopeful that the day would see sunny skies, or at least no rain. Training, as you might have read in my previous blog posts, went pretty well and was a really exciting experience for me. Leading up to the race, I would have bouts of nervousness or self-doubt but really didn’t get super excited or nervous the day of. This was actually a tad bit disappointing as I wanted to feel SOMETHING for the thing I had been working for. Swimming was this same way; race time was met with a sort of calm. I would think about a certain goal or time and feel butterflies or the swooshing and overwhelming feeling of doubt but otherwise felt rather ‘ordinary’ about the whole thing. Better than being a ball of nerves, I guess? I cut out alcohol and absurd amounts of sugar for two days before the race (I know what you are thinking – woah) and for the most part hydrated and attempted to lay low on the day before the race. Instead, I found myself scrubbing the bathroom and returning items at the mall out of pure boredom. A girl can only watch so many movies! The weather for race day was still calling for cloudy skies and a high of 52, which I was totally comfortable with. I prepped for my day and was early to bed for a 5 am wake up.

Wake up to a shrieking phone. Turn the damn thing off. Stumble to the shower and let the warm water wake me up. Make oatmeal, one scrambled egg, and some hot Nuun. Chug a water bottle. Pack up last minute essentials. Pile on three coats and a pair of winter pants. Leave house with tired boyfriend at 6 am. Drive for an hour. I curse that it is raining. Wonder how in the hell you will stay warm for an hour and half until the race starts. Reluctantly leave warm and dry car wondering what in the hell ever made you even think of signing up for something so miserable as you saunter over to the bus that will ferry you to the start.

Hiding from the rain, but not the cold.

Yep. Raining. And even though I was wearing THREE warm jackets, I felt so ill prepared. Just this morning the weather was still partly cloudy, I thought. What on earth did I do to deserve this? And poor Joel; I was misled in thinking it would be a warm morning doubled up with the fact that I thought there was a coffee shop nearby when in fact there was not. We wandered through the race area and found an umbrella to stand under to escape the rain. I total questioned my thought process in doing this; I was about to run 13 miles (something I haven’t ever done before), it was raining and cold (I hate being wet and cold), I didn’t feel like standing up let alone racing and everyone else was smart enough to stay at home or not sign up. Then, I get a text from Casey (our CFO at Nuun) that he had shown up and not so willingly admitted he was ready to run. He had wanted to run a half marathon, had hurt his foot the week before but signed up in hopes that Snohomish River Run would be his chance to get that goal crossed off his list. Now, I had a posse. It was Joel, Casey and me. I felt a little bit better that there was someone I would know out on course in the event that something went really wrong. I sat huddled under the tent clutching my hand warmers before going for a brief jog looking like a purple Michelin man in all of my jackets. I put on my race number, stretched a bit and kissed Joel goodbye. Now would be a great time to say how thankful I am for this guy; he planted the idea of being an athlete again into my head, supported the idea, has listened to me whine, congratulates me on pretty much every work out and picks me up if I am pissed off at how poorly I performed, if there is anything I say I need he is willing to help me get it, he woke up early on his one day of sleeping in for the week to drive me to a race and stand out in the cold rain for two hours to greet me at the finish line – in short, he’s an angel and without his support this would be a much different post.

So, Casey and I meandered our way up towards the front of the start line to around 8 minute pace. Luckily, I was starting warm. Having had Scleroderma and Reynauds for a couple years now I have learned a few tricks that seem to work for keeping symptoms at bay (for the most part); I wore a lot of layers, I warmed up in layers, I kept my head warm, I wore gloves and I kept foot warmers in my shoes directly on my feet for two hours until right before I started running. I felt good starting out! I ran with Casey for a little bit but wanted to start at an 8 to hold and then speed up a bit. After about ¾ a mile, I bid farewell and took off. I felt good. Focused on calm breathing and running tall and found a groove.  I also thought it was cool I could run in the middle of the road and even on the wrong side of the road – RULE BREAKER.

About mile 3, I came up on a heavy breather with headphones in (you know the kind – has no idea how much noise he’s making) and he sprints to keep up. This annoys me for two reasons: first off, let me just pass you and I promise I won’t tell anyone (if that’s what you are fearful of), and secondly you are throwing off my pace by attempting to sprint every ten seconds to keep up with me. So, I put in a good 20 seconds of effort and pulled away from my neon-heavy-breathing friend. Then, cows. We run by a pasture full of cows mooing their heads off. It was cute, I felt like they were cheering me on with their stink and noise. My tummy was a little unsettled so I was trying to calm it down and came up to a water station. I wasn’t planning on taking water until mile 5 or six with my gel, but I grabbed a cup in an attempt to ease my tummy. I squeezed the top of the cup together with minimal sloshing and held it up to my mouth to take a swig. Instead I poured most of it all over my face and self and choked on what did make it into my mouth. Well, that didn’t work too well, I thought to myself. Onward and upward. I found a guy to duck behind who was holding a good pace for me, and settled into a nice rhythm until just before the turn around. He slowed up a small incline, and I passed him to keep on with my pace. Sure enough, here comes my neon clad heavy breather friend. By this time, I was annoyed. He was pounding his feet and his breathing right behind me was unsettling. And then he made a surge past me where he stayed for about 10 seconds before falling back once again. He hung on to my back, let out a toot amidst all of his effort (he probably didn’t hear with his headphones), and then fell back off.

I readied my gel for consumption as I checked out my watch. I was happy with where I was. I wanted to maintain 7:30s until the last two miles (ideally) where I would then spend whatever I had left. I took my gel, washed it down with a better attempt at drinking some water and kept on running. I liked all the people cheering for others and did the same. It made me feel better and almost felt like I was cheering on myself. About a mile after the turn around point we were back in the open and a little exposed. It had been raining on and off but I had managed to stay pretty warm. Now there was a slight breeze, and the rain/mist was getting to me. I was starting to cool off and other than running faster I couldn’t manage to keep warm. I was shaking my arms and working on picking up my knees. I was really happy with my fitness though; my heart rate was still pretty low and my breathing was easy. I just couldn’t pick up my legs. I tried not to panic and kept working on running tall, breathing and picking up my knees. I start to feel my turnover slow as my stride seemed to shorten, and my pace started to fall off. I comforted myself in knowing I had so far done well, I would still be under my original goal and just told myself to maintain 8s. It started to rain more and I got colder; my shoes were drenched and my legs were cold to the touch with the rain and breeze. I was pretty disappointed with my body; I knew I could run faster but just couldn’t manage. My legs just wouldn’t go anymore.  I attempted 15 second intermittent efforts to try to find fire, but found it was resulting in more tightness in my legs. My calves were pulling on my shins and my right hamstring was tight. Finally, I started to recognize some of the landmarks out of the clouds and rain and knew I was close to the start line, which was going to be about ten miles. I hoped Joel would be standing there so I could see him and hear him cheer; I figured this would give me a little energy for the last 3 miles. I stopped looking at my watch and just paid attention to my legs and arms and breathing. Coming up, I saw a little kid all bundled up on the side of the road who saw me running. I didn’t have anyone around me, but he said ‘way to go runner! You are almost done!’ and I said ‘you want to finish for me?’ to which he just curled up and laughed. Damnit kid, I was serious. I saw my Joelybean standing up about 300 meters from me and saw when he noticed me. I heard him yell and cheer and saw his phone out taking video. Gosh, I hope I look semi decent so I can show it to other people, I thought. I have always thought I was a relatively ugly runner, and my ‘athlete’ face doesn’t help me much in that department.

Running towards Joel.

 

Running away from Joel, and passing a lady.

 

I ran away from Joel, but for good reasons, and rounded the corner. Secretly, I hoped I was almost done and my watch distance was off. Sure enough, I round a corner into a parking lot and see that the half course continues out on a paved path. I kept on and told myself to just try to pick up the legs a little bit. The path was rolling (barely) but the slight inclines killed me! It’s like I immediately stopped moving every time I had to run downhill or uphill. I tried to pay attention to the faces of the people running by me the other way who were on their way to the finish line; I was searching them for some kind of answer, some kind of secret as to how to make these last three miles clutch. I saw pained faces, I saw pumping arms and tense hands, shuffles and high knees. I started to think a little too much, but I was just trying to keep myself company. What I wouldn’t give for a glass of wine right now. Dang, I just started running and here I am, running a half marathon. How much longer would it take me to get down to a 1:33? Could I do this after a swim and a bike? If you’re curious, the answer was: Hell yes! When would I run another one? How can I plan the race out better? Is my nose running or is that rain? What workouts do all these fast kids do during the week? Do I look as unflattering as I imagine I do?

Eventually I reached the turnaround point where I jokingly begged the guy in his car making sure we all ran around the cone for a ride. He declined. And just when I was feeling bad about not being able to run faster and sprint to finish for the last 3 miles, neon clad heavy breather man with his heavy feet passes me. I tried to keep up, but let him go. I couldn’t keep on anyone and resolved to keep behind the other people who weren’t sprinting to get to the finish. I rounded a corner and could see the finish arch. Quick, look pretty. So I wiped my nose and ran on in past a cheering Joelybean. I finished with what I am sure is a terrible finish line face and attempted to walk on to the ladies handing out water and space blankets (well, that’s what they look like) and suddenly my legs wanted to give out. Ok, guys, I know you just ran 13.1 miles but let’s keep the party going. The announcer yelled out my name (cool!) and followed it with an ‘awesome!’ Yeah, announcer man, I am awesome. Eventually my legs moved on through the finish chute and Joel gave me a big hug and kiss and congratulated me on a solid run. I really wanted to sit down, so I did. Then I was like, wait, I can’t get up. Casey finished just behind me (we cheered for each other on the course every time we had a turnaround) and wandered around to find warmth and food before deciding to actually leave.

Flyin' by.

All done. Running makes me look skinnier, according to Joel.

DONE!

Modeling my blanket.

Comin' in hot.

Love this picture of my finish - note: time not accurate.

But not before I performed this little number: http://youtu.be/Rlf6nx-b5Zg

We waited a good 45 minutes for the bus shuttle to pick us up, and after a short 2.5 hour journey home I was finally able to take a hot shower and lay in my bed tucked under my warm covers!

 

Now that I am done and have been able to take a nap, I can reflect on my first running race. I ran a 1:41:43 with a sub 8 average pace , over three minutes faster than my original goal time! I am really happy with this, but even during the race saw areas I could definitely improve on. My overall strength as a runner can improve, which will only come with more miles. I definitely think my ability to pick up the pace towards the end could have been better (I thought I would be good at this) but who knows, that could have been due to some external factors as well. I could use to keep working on my fueling process and really hammer down what works. I think getting more miles under my belt will help my body adjust to the shock of the end of the race and will help my brain plan the whole thing out before beginning. I had a hard time stomaching thinking about the whole race because it seemed so big to my brain, like it was too much to handle. So I broke the race down into thirds, which seemed to work. I think my overall fitness level will continue to improve, and I want to continue to work on my endurance. I plan on putting my suit on a few times a week and hoping in the pool for some yardage as well as hoping back on the bike. I also plan on taking up some methods to help soothe my tight muscles and relax (trigger point and yoga) as well as doing some strengthening a few times a week. I do NOT like conventional weights and prefer more of a fast paced semi-cardio workout that targets individual muscle groups and works on balance at the same time. I do believe that as I continue to hone things down and focus even more energy and attention on my fitness, I will not only be able to break a 1:40, but will improve my stats in the water as well as on the bike.

 

But for now I will relax, stretch, eat whatever I fancy and drink some wine because:

I kicked ass in my first half marathon! 

 

Half Mary playlist!

In case you are totally curious about what I am listening to tomorrow (No! I am not listening to music while I am racing!) to get ready or in the event you are looking for some good workout/run music or you just want to judge me for what I listen to, this is what I am tuned into. Please, no haters. I like my jams.

Half Marathon! on Spotify.

And in the event you don't have Spotify or don't want to open it:

1) Dark Horse by Katy Perry
2)Daydreamer by Flux pavilion
3) TKO by Justin Timberlake
4)On the Road by Cazzette
5)I be Puttin' On by Wale
6) 'Till I Collapse by Eminem
7) Tidal Wave by Sub Focus and Alpines
8) Crystallize by Lindsey Sterling
9) Midnight Life by The White Panda
10) Ride Like The Wind by Michael Mind
11) Team by Lorde
12) Fast Lane by Bad Meets Evil
13) Thumbs Up by Kill The Noise
14) Radioactive by Imagine Dragons
15) Applause by Lady Gaga
16) My Moment by DJ Drama
17) The Mighty Fall by Fallout Boy
18) Tennis Court by Lorde
19) So Good by B.o.B.
20) Makeshift Sanctuary by Aether

and last but not least...

21) Chariots Of Fire by Vangelis

Was the last one really a surprise? I mean, come on. My parents even played that at their wedding.

Cheers!

Taper: Swimming vs. Running

Now that I am a few days away from my first running race and pretty much done with my running ‘taper,’ I have been reminded of how much I absolutely despise resting. Yes, that’s right, I hate resting when I have been actually training for something. And while this isn’t something I have had in a while, it is an all too familiar feeling I experienced quite often while swimming. I took to words to compare the two in an attempt to convince myself that these are just common taper blues and not reflections of being ill-prepared, out of shape or pursuing the wrong sport.

It’s been a long time since I have tapered for anything swimming related. Wow, almost ten years. That’s over a 1/3 of my lifetime. But, I remember the feelings like it was yesterday. I know I was a sprinter, and compared to most swimmers I had a very small yardage and training base to go off of but I loved training. I would rather put in a good 5k a day then rest. When taper started, I got grumpy. Why? Because swimming felt slow. My muscles felt like glue, my turnover felt crappy, I hated that I couldn’t ‘feel’ myself attempt to move through the water. I hated doing sprints with SO MUCH rest, because my muscles got tired and let’s face it, I got bored. We would do tether swims at the pool, and I got so damn tired of those things! Sure it’s fun to be slingshotted (I made that word up) across the pool, but trying to actually make it worthwhile and move your arms so fast they feel like they are going to fall off is tiring. Then, your mind starts to play with you. Like, oh, this all feels so shitty so don’t expect to actually swim well. You start paying way too much attention to splits and send offs and your heart rate seems alarmingly high compared to sets when you were training. Your body feels so beat up when in reality it’s just resting and recovering. You want to eat all of the things you see, and nothing ever seems like enough. You are so tired and because the practice is only 1500 feel like it’s a better use of your time to just sleep in then spend 5 minutes standing at a wall to only swim for 10 seconds. And what was worse, taper was lonely. I tended to taper alone and I can attest that one truly is the loneliest number. No one to share the blues and grumpies with, just sitting there in your own lane feeling sorry for yourself that the last season’s worth of training and racing has come to this: taper. On top of that, I would start to feel race pressure. Not in an anxious way, just like, so much work is all coming down to one moment. I never doubted my ability to swim – I had memorized my swims to the stroke and kick. I knew how each portion of the race should feel. I had to; I was so tiny and underdeveloped compared to all the other kids I was racing against – I had to know every in and out to my swims to be there.

Running, well, the whole thing is new. I have been running for three months now? So, pretty much everything has been new. Training went well; I set goals, put in the miles and hit pace. I rolled out sore muscles and dreamed of flying in my running shoes. Training felt great, and was really similar to the years of swimming; I lamented putting on my running clothes and lacing up my shoes, but within five minutes of getting out and picking up my feet I was happy I did. I liked the challenge, and I liked the pain of working to meet goals and go above and beyond. It gave me a glimpse of the person, the athlete, I used to be. And then there was rest, the dreaded taper. I wouldn’t consider this a huge taper or anything compared to something you train a lot longer for, but my body immediately responded the same way. I felt sluggish, like I was made of putty. All movements when I was running felt over – sensitized; my strike didn’t feel normal, and was my stride too short or too long? My desire to run fast was gone, mainly because nothing actually felt fast. I was tired, and because the runs felt crappy, I didn’t want to go. Motivation totally lacked, when only a week before a 6 mile tempo run sounded fun (go figure). Ah, the taper blues has set in. I kept my head in the game and tried not to get too psyched out, but let’s be honest, I totally talked myself out of shooting for the stars a couple times. My perceived effort for such easy runs had me convinced that I wouldn’t run any faster than 8 pace, and even that was pushing it! But, thanks to a lot of encouragement from others, I am not too worried for this weekend. Taper and resting sucks, and after an initial warm up period of about 20 minutes my last couple runs haven’t been too bad (a lot better than the 45 I required swimming).

 I want to think this is how my body gears up for a big perceived effort; thanks to my athlete brain and past life as an athlete, I know all too well what’s coming. I know the pain and the frustration and the thoughts and the little prayers you send for your legs to just move a little bit faster. I know the pain faces and the cramps and the heavy breathing and the feeling like there is a gorilla on your back (or you are hauling a piano). My body wants to train into it because that feels familiar, it’s gritty and its real and my muscles can fathom that. I am sure I will do just find this weekend and hit my original goal of both having fun and finishing in under 1:45; I am sure I will have a blast after the initial mile of panicked running. I have a plan that I hope I am able to stick with, and will write friendly reminders on my hands to read mid-race to remind me to race tall, relax, have fun, pace, Bernie lean if I have time and run faster than hell the last two miles. I have 13 miles to find my groove though, and that’s a lot longer than the :54 I had swimming.

Happy weekending everyone!

Thoughts of a seasoned athlete on running for the first time!

Yes, if you have read any of my past posts, you know that it isn't literally the first time I have ran. But, it is the first time I have ran continuously (more than twice a week) and trained for something running related. Its the first time going out for a 6 mile run is easy. It's the first time I have made mindful purchases of running clothing. Its the first time I have worn a watch for a workout. Its the first time I have ran 11 miles. Its the first time I have gotten excited about running work outs and new personal bests for running.

My race is 2 weeks and 2 days away. And as I head into my last long run before I race (12 miles) I am convinced that my goal of just finishing one is obsolete; my athlete brain has numbers in mind. I now know I can run 13.1 miles and know that it can feel good. I know that I can fly on certain runs and recover well. I now know that I can be a runner.

Two and a half months ago when I had started running for this race just the thought of running 13.1 miles at an 8:00 pace blew my mind. Then, I started running 'significant' miles (for me, anyways) and my average pace started to drop. Then, before I knew it, I was below 8 pace. Consistently. For all runs. My legs felt good and strong, even when I was sore and tired. Woah, I could do this. I could really run. I can run 10 miles, and what's even better is that I like doing it.

Enter: Athlete brain. This is the brain of a girl who is so athletically inclined and competitive that my way of sizing up sports and races is by looking at times that won it the year before (pro status or not) and compare myself to those times. Yes, yes. I do sports for fun. I know that is what its all about. And to only compare your race to the clock and how it felt. The 'best' for each person in a race is different, so never hold yourself to someone else's standards. I was a swimmer for half my life (lots of different swimmers and races, but only one clock), so I get this concept just as well as anybody else does. But my athlete brain has always craved something, perhaps the things that it missed out on when I got injured and had to quit swimming. My athlete brain still wants something great and something big, but for years my body has struggled with figuring out how to follow along. With triathlons, my athlete brain was super pumped. Here I was, a good swimmer able to get out of the water fresh and ready for the next leg when most people exited exhausted and drained. But the run always scared me. I believed everyone that I could be a good runner if I applied myself, but I never did. It was too scary, too new, and the impact seemed to be something my body couldn't take. But now...

When I decided I wanted (ish) to run a half marathon I employed the help of Vishal, a fellow Nuunie who rocks at running and completely understands athlete brain and how I work. He calmed me down, started me off easy, and explained that he could easily help me reach my goal of sub 1:45 half. With half assed trust, I started off and shortly their after, was completely committed; I saw what he saw. He gave me work outs that allowed me to reconnect with the old athlete in me. I got to go into the pain cave a couple times. And man, do I love the pain cave. Love love love. Always have. I was the swimmer who was EXCITED about sets like time 3000s back, holding 1:05s or 1:04s the whole way. I loved 6 800's at BYOB pace (Blow your brains out = race pace or damn close to it). These feelings are all to familiar and if anything, something I have missed. Once I started getting into shape, I could feel my body morph and chase the pain cave feeling when I was running. I do not shy away from difficult sets and give my all to do the best, because why wouldn't I? I want to get faster, better, stronger and good lord, a little pain has never stopped me before. I like to push until reality pushes back in the way of losing stomach contents, passing out, falling down (or collapsing to the bottom of the pool in a ball), or cramping up so bad my pace is essentially at a cool down pace.

As a seasoned athlete, the last two months have been completely enjoyable. I have been able to start all over with another sport with the wisdom of how things work and where it might take me, and with enough passion and athlete brain to (overly?) commit to the effort. I am learning a lot, and am so beyond pleased of how my body has responded to training. Plus, this whole 'training' thing is way more fun and exciting for my athlete brain than just working out mindlessly for a few hours a week to try to keep a figure or stay in shape. And dare I say it, I really like running. Even more than that, I like the idea of becoming a solid runner so I can apply my fast running skills to triathlons next summer and kick ass so that I can complete a half ironman and run my first sub six minute mile in years and hold a 6:30 pace for a 5k and... sorry, that's just my athlete brain at work again.

I hope all true athletes get to experience this newness at one point in their lives: it has shed so much more excitement on the whole thing and has given me a whole new perspective on trying new things, not to mention has gotten me PUMPED to actually train again. Thanks to running, my athlete brain is back, alive and kickin', and I freakin' love it.

My introduction to Running!

Hey there Running,

So glad we can finally meet and get to know each other! My name is Megan. You actually used to know me back when I looked nothing like I do now. You might remember this super scrawny girl with knee braces, short hair and freckles who liked to rip around the track... anyways, that was me about 15 years ago. I was really into swimming for quite a while, but I would sometimes go for runs as cross training. Anyways, after I stopped swimming I wasn't motivated much to dedicate myself to any one thing, fearful of committing myself to the effort only to come up empty handed again. I dabbled in things, wanting stuff but never really trying for anything at all. I got a bike, but never rode. I had running shoes, but was lucky if I could jog a couple miles straight. I got climbing boots just as I came to realize my health was severely compromised in cold (thanks, Scleroderma). I worked out to maintain a figure or to lose weight, but never to achieve a goal. Goals scared me (they still do) because what if it doesn't work out?

So, this past summer, thanks to some friends and a supportive boyfriend I did two triathlons. I didn't really 'train' for either, just practiced running and cycling on a relaxed basis. I learned I should train, but I did have a LOT of fun. You, the running part, scared me the most. To have to run 6 or 13 miles AFTER swimming and cycling just seemed stupid. Can't I just swim again? The run killed me on my second triathlon. I knew you and I could be better friends if I put time into it, so I toyed with the idea of taking myself a bit more seriously. No, I don't need to set a world record or qualify for Olympic Trials, just a small and reasonable goal to reach for. So, before committing to my secret goal of running a half marathon in the fall, I started jogging. Three times a week. I worked out a training plan with a really good and fast friend of yours and started learning a lot from people who have known you for so much longer than I have.

So, now my goal is public. I want to run a half marathon in the end of October, with a goal time of sub 1:45. Any faster, awesome, but seeing as how I have never ran a long race (and only a handful of short ones), I want to make sure I actually hit my goal. And as I keep training, I learn that you, running, are a different kind of beast than anything I have known. Your hurt is different than that of swimming. You kick my ass, but then I come back to you 10 minutes later. You make me super excited and also as nervous as a high school boy before Prom. You like to torment my athlete brain. But, I am still looking forward to becoming much better friends. I am still learning about you (like, Fartleks are NOT to be laughed at, even though it is a funny word), and you are still learning about me.

Now, just so you know I will always be a swimmer first. Just remember, its not a competition; I value each of my athlete experiences differently and love all of them. Hopefully, we become good enough friends to the point where we can finish a half ironman together next summer. In the mean time, lets continue to work out the kinks and oddities, but after about TWO months of actually running for the first time EVER, I think we are doing pretty well so far!

Your new friend,

Megan

Triathloning.

First in off the swim - building a lead before my disastrous run!

Before I actually ran a lot.

Running in the Canadian wilderness.

RUNNING IS FUN.