Yes, I know the title line is outdated. I couldn't help myself. It is so very appropriate to what is going on with me right now. I ran seven miles tonight. I cannot believe it myself. There was a very brief walk up a very steep but short hill that I refuse to count because of the difficulty level of the hill. When I was done, I decided that after this half marathon, I am never running again. Sorry, but I mean it. I have greatly appreciated all of your support, emails, and facebook posts. I am so happy that I have even inspired a few of you. I hate to disappoint, but I am done, retired after October 11. And here's why: I have lost my identity.
I have no idea who I am anymore. I cannot even see much of my former self when I look in the mirror. I do not recognize this woman in gym clothes. I do not understand the fixation with whole grains or the passion for arch support. You guys know me, most of you know me pretty well. I like hair stuff, and high heels; laying in lawn chairs and watching America's Next Top Model. This woman who I see in the mirror has a permanent sweaty ponytail and walks around in New Balance running shoes. My best lounge chair is full of spider webs and garage dust and I can't even tell you who was in the running to be the next Cover Girl.
Brats have been a fabulous summer treat. My actual self loves them. Tonight, this strange woman in my house had a turkey brat on a whole grain bun with chopped tomatoes and onions on top. To my horror, it wasn't even soaked in beer. And it was good. My father might disown me.
I hate this woman. She doesn't shop at the Gap or eat turtle sundaes. She wakes up early on Saturdays to run or go to yoga class. I don't do those things!! I love turtle sundaes and the more sleep the better. Who cares about doing the crow pose for more than 30 seconds???? Apparently she does. I did beat the crap out of her on Sunday night when I stayed out at a bar until it actually closed. The last time that happened I woke up in a frat house and had to walk home with no shoes. THIS woman would never let that happen.
Although I hate her, I also fear her. I hate to admit it but she is kind of cool. She's the one who talked me into buying a kayak, which I love. She got me to go on some marathon bike rides. She doesn't care if I look disgustingly sweaty or if I'm the only one crazy enough to get up at 5 AM on Thanksgiving morning to run a 5K. She is a lot more confident than me and willing to take risks that I never would have taken before.
OK, maybe I'll keep her around. But I'm NOT running :)
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
An Inspiring Morning
Let me begin this by admitting that, yes, much of today's post has been inspired by the fact that I started reading Eat, Pray, Love this weekend. I know it's cliche and that half the women in America are probably saying this but I sure can relate to the beginning of this woman's story.
This morning, we took our daily walk to the gas station for Gatorade (purple) among other necessities. As usual, we passed the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. Our son, Sam, comments "we don't go to church." He's right, we don't. And just like in the book, the reasons for that don't really pertain to this blog. So I'm thinking about this as I'm running and the truth is, in my mind, we go to church every day. Just like the author, I don't really think about God as a single specific entity. I don't even really have a name for her or him or it or that or whatever this God thing is. She worded this so eloquently in the book. I don't dare to even try to accomplish capturing this thought the way that she did with words. If you haven't read the book, you should.
This gets to be a pretty philisophical run for me as I start to think about all the things that this thing called God can be part of. My church is right here, the route that I am running. I don't need the building or the ladies group or the collection plate. I've got the sun, which to me holds so much power and energy that it could be this thing called God all by itself. I've got freedom to choose which direction to go and the choices are endless. I'm seeing this God all around me, in the cool breeze, the Mill Pond, the seventy year old man running on the track. There is such a great selection of cheese at the grocery store. Certainly God must have had a hand in that!
My tendency to be a pessimist creeps in. There is so much negativity in the world, on the news, sometimes even in my own house. Ok, a lot of times in my own house. If this God is so special, why is he/she/it allowing this to happen to me, to us? How am I supposed to believe in any of this nonsense? I'm still not sure that I do.
But here is what I do believe. Life can be really hard. So hard that you want it to just stop. Like when you go on vacation to Florida and your husband calls to tell you that he just quit his job. Like when you go to the Health Risk Assessment at work at they tell you that your body fat is at 30%. Like that point at mile 3 when you could turn and just go home. But if you do that, if you just stop and head home, you will never know what you missed on miles 4, 5, and 6. Maybe there were some kids running a FREE lemonade stand or maybe you missed a Basset Hound laying out in the sun. Or maybe you missed your opportunity for your longest and most accomplished run yet! (Is this the start of a self help book? I have no idea where this is coming from right now.)
Something or someone must intervene at that 3 mile mark. Some force, some push is coming from someWHERE that makes you choose to turn away from home and see what else you can find. If this is called God, then AMEN. I didn't need an old stone building to get there. I just needed to take some time to find it.
This morning, we took our daily walk to the gas station for Gatorade (purple) among other necessities. As usual, we passed the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. Our son, Sam, comments "we don't go to church." He's right, we don't. And just like in the book, the reasons for that don't really pertain to this blog. So I'm thinking about this as I'm running and the truth is, in my mind, we go to church every day. Just like the author, I don't really think about God as a single specific entity. I don't even really have a name for her or him or it or that or whatever this God thing is. She worded this so eloquently in the book. I don't dare to even try to accomplish capturing this thought the way that she did with words. If you haven't read the book, you should.
This gets to be a pretty philisophical run for me as I start to think about all the things that this thing called God can be part of. My church is right here, the route that I am running. I don't need the building or the ladies group or the collection plate. I've got the sun, which to me holds so much power and energy that it could be this thing called God all by itself. I've got freedom to choose which direction to go and the choices are endless. I'm seeing this God all around me, in the cool breeze, the Mill Pond, the seventy year old man running on the track. There is such a great selection of cheese at the grocery store. Certainly God must have had a hand in that!
My tendency to be a pessimist creeps in. There is so much negativity in the world, on the news, sometimes even in my own house. Ok, a lot of times in my own house. If this God is so special, why is he/she/it allowing this to happen to me, to us? How am I supposed to believe in any of this nonsense? I'm still not sure that I do.
But here is what I do believe. Life can be really hard. So hard that you want it to just stop. Like when you go on vacation to Florida and your husband calls to tell you that he just quit his job. Like when you go to the Health Risk Assessment at work at they tell you that your body fat is at 30%. Like that point at mile 3 when you could turn and just go home. But if you do that, if you just stop and head home, you will never know what you missed on miles 4, 5, and 6. Maybe there were some kids running a FREE lemonade stand or maybe you missed a Basset Hound laying out in the sun. Or maybe you missed your opportunity for your longest and most accomplished run yet! (Is this the start of a self help book? I have no idea where this is coming from right now.)
Something or someone must intervene at that 3 mile mark. Some force, some push is coming from someWHERE that makes you choose to turn away from home and see what else you can find. If this is called God, then AMEN. I didn't need an old stone building to get there. I just needed to take some time to find it.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Let's Get Real Here.
Ok, time to get down to the nitty gritty. There are 8 weeks left before Becki and I travel to Portland to participate in a half marathon with Erin. The training had a major set back in March and I never really bounced back. I am doing much better now than I have all summer, which is good news. But it's all seeming a bit funny to me as I sit here writing this tonight.
Allow me to describe a training "run" for you. I sit down at mapmyrun.com, one of my new favorite tools for training. I plot a route with the total mileage that I am trying to accomplish for that day. (I'm up to 6 by the way.) Then I gear up and set out. Of course now you are all thinking, wow, that's great. No, it's not. I wish you could see me laugh right now.
I start real serious. A good pace, steady breathing, nothing hurts. This is good. Soon, my legs feel tired. I'm just getting into it. A mile must have passed by now. I press the button on my ipod that tells me how far I've gone, 0.21 miles. Great, Karen, thanks for the update. How could that be? OK, so I'm not pressing that button again for a while. I think that thing is broken.
I purposely plan my route near parks that have bathrooms and bubblers, or water fountains if you require that terminology. The need for the bathroom is obvious to those of you who have birthed children. Running is right up there with jumping, sneezing, laughing, squatting down. One false move and you better hope that you are sweating enough to cover up your accident. So, I can stop at the park, use the bathroom and get a drink. I have gotten into the habit of sticking my head in the stream of water after I get my drink. I can only imagine what passers by think but I have really stopped worrying what passers by think at this point anyway.
Another trick. I purposely plan my route so that people will see me. By people, I mean people who cannot see me walking. I MUST be running when these people are near. When I suspect I may run into one of these people, I pick up the pace. They have no idea how much they are influencing my running. You may be one of these people without even knowing! No one but me knows who these people are. They have been chosen for very inappropriate, superficial reasons that only I can know without thoroughly embarrassing myself. I also run on really busy streets so that these people might see me running just as they are out innocently going about their own business.
But on the side streets of Ripon is where my secrets lurk. That's where I'm taking a brief walking break. Sure, my walk is on pace with some joggers, but to me, this is cheating. I'm not really running. I fear one of those people popping out of the bushes and yelling "HA! You aren't a runner. I knew it!!". I try to only walk on uphills so that if I'm caught, I have an excuse. I always smile to myself when I see one of these people off the beaten path and I am running hard. Trust me, it has happened. And it is oh, so satisfying.
As I approach the end of the route, I really try to push myself. I'm quite sure I appear half dead. If I at all become aware of my appearance, I realize that I am hunched over as if attempting to hurl myself forward. My eyes are squinted, mouth is grimacing. And now, it does look like I never found that bathroom and the weak muscles of motherhood just let loose. But the truth is, this is exactly how I want to look if I've been spotted by one of my secret motivators. It screams, "LOOK HOW HARD I'VE WORKED!!" It is SO satisfying to walk in the door as the sweat pours down. I think my family is more proud of me the worse I look.
Of course this is all in my head. I don't terribly care what my secret people think of me. Ok, I do a little or none of this would work. What matters is that this little game is just one more thing to make me work, to keep going, and to push just a little harder. And it's fun. Now, do you see why I sit here and laugh at myself?
Allow me to describe a training "run" for you. I sit down at mapmyrun.com, one of my new favorite tools for training. I plot a route with the total mileage that I am trying to accomplish for that day. (I'm up to 6 by the way.) Then I gear up and set out. Of course now you are all thinking, wow, that's great. No, it's not. I wish you could see me laugh right now.
I start real serious. A good pace, steady breathing, nothing hurts. This is good. Soon, my legs feel tired. I'm just getting into it. A mile must have passed by now. I press the button on my ipod that tells me how far I've gone, 0.21 miles. Great, Karen, thanks for the update. How could that be? OK, so I'm not pressing that button again for a while. I think that thing is broken.
I purposely plan my route near parks that have bathrooms and bubblers, or water fountains if you require that terminology. The need for the bathroom is obvious to those of you who have birthed children. Running is right up there with jumping, sneezing, laughing, squatting down. One false move and you better hope that you are sweating enough to cover up your accident. So, I can stop at the park, use the bathroom and get a drink. I have gotten into the habit of sticking my head in the stream of water after I get my drink. I can only imagine what passers by think but I have really stopped worrying what passers by think at this point anyway.
Another trick. I purposely plan my route so that people will see me. By people, I mean people who cannot see me walking. I MUST be running when these people are near. When I suspect I may run into one of these people, I pick up the pace. They have no idea how much they are influencing my running. You may be one of these people without even knowing! No one but me knows who these people are. They have been chosen for very inappropriate, superficial reasons that only I can know without thoroughly embarrassing myself. I also run on really busy streets so that these people might see me running just as they are out innocently going about their own business.
But on the side streets of Ripon is where my secrets lurk. That's where I'm taking a brief walking break. Sure, my walk is on pace with some joggers, but to me, this is cheating. I'm not really running. I fear one of those people popping out of the bushes and yelling "HA! You aren't a runner. I knew it!!". I try to only walk on uphills so that if I'm caught, I have an excuse. I always smile to myself when I see one of these people off the beaten path and I am running hard. Trust me, it has happened. And it is oh, so satisfying.
As I approach the end of the route, I really try to push myself. I'm quite sure I appear half dead. If I at all become aware of my appearance, I realize that I am hunched over as if attempting to hurl myself forward. My eyes are squinted, mouth is grimacing. And now, it does look like I never found that bathroom and the weak muscles of motherhood just let loose. But the truth is, this is exactly how I want to look if I've been spotted by one of my secret motivators. It screams, "LOOK HOW HARD I'VE WORKED!!" It is SO satisfying to walk in the door as the sweat pours down. I think my family is more proud of me the worse I look.
Of course this is all in my head. I don't terribly care what my secret people think of me. Ok, I do a little or none of this would work. What matters is that this little game is just one more thing to make me work, to keep going, and to push just a little harder. And it's fun. Now, do you see why I sit here and laugh at myself?
Sunday, August 1, 2010
A Triathlon?. . . .Who's with me?
So today I did something a little bit outside the box. Sam and I volunteered to work the finish line at the RMC triathlon at the Green Lake Conference Center. What a beautfil setting! These are real athletes, they are serious. The "short" course is a 1/4 mile swim, 16 mile bike ride, and 5k run. THE SHORT COURSE PEOPLE!! I had the honor and pleasure of greeting these people at the finish line, giving them water, and taking the timing chip off their ankles. My kid was a trooper and helped until the last athlete crossed the finish line. There were many inspiring moments today.
My friend Lisa took 3rd place in her age group. She is a rock star with arms I would KILL for. Sam's baseball coach and our good friend, Mitch, crossed the finish line looking like he could run another 3 miles. Sam was so excited to hand him his water. (I swear Sam wishes he was in the Beuthin family sometimes.) I saw several couples cross the finish line hand in hand but the most memorable was the wife who burst into tears, making me do the same. I also loved the wife who sprinted past her husband at the finish. The winner of the long course had cut his foot on some rocks in the water and finished the entire race, to take first, with a shoe soaked in blood. SOAKED IN BLOOD!!!! And the last girl who crossed the finish line at 4 hours and one minute had a smile on her face and her head held high. She did it.
It was an awesome race to watch and be a part of. I've got a long way to go and someday I would love to try it. I'm not sure I can do it myself. Who's with me?
My friend Lisa took 3rd place in her age group. She is a rock star with arms I would KILL for. Sam's baseball coach and our good friend, Mitch, crossed the finish line looking like he could run another 3 miles. Sam was so excited to hand him his water. (I swear Sam wishes he was in the Beuthin family sometimes.) I saw several couples cross the finish line hand in hand but the most memorable was the wife who burst into tears, making me do the same. I also loved the wife who sprinted past her husband at the finish. The winner of the long course had cut his foot on some rocks in the water and finished the entire race, to take first, with a shoe soaked in blood. SOAKED IN BLOOD!!!! And the last girl who crossed the finish line at 4 hours and one minute had a smile on her face and her head held high. She did it.
It was an awesome race to watch and be a part of. I've got a long way to go and someday I would love to try it. I'm not sure I can do it myself. Who's with me?
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