I have so much to say but I am crunched for time. I will expand later but you should know that after running your first huge race, you experience a significant let down. A depressed feeling of emptiness. The goal has been accomplished but now what???
I have come up with a quick fix. I am hosting a 5K, starting at my house on Halloween morning at 10:00AM. I will supply gatorade for pre-race and water and chocolate milk for post-race. Please bring a snack to share for post-race. It will be casual, no timing, no expectations. I only expect you to do the whole 3.1 miles (at your OWN pace) and to HAVE FUN. You can walk, run, jog, etc. Costumes are optional. Kids are welcome in strollers, on bikes, or walking/running alongside. I want to promote healthiness for us all on a day when we will likely be eating lots of candy!!
If you are reading this, you are invited, and your friends are too. Please just rsvp to brookev10@charter.net so I know how many people to expect.
DON'T BE INTIMIDATED! THIS IS FOR FUN AND HEALTH, NOT TO SEE WHO'S THE FASTEST!!!!!! PLEASE JOIN ME !!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Final Performance
Wow, I am without words. Or I don't know where to begin. Today was one of the top ten days of my life. At the risk of offending anyone, I will not share the other nine. It's hard to describe what I've been through in the last 12 hours. Wild emotion, exhilerating pain, and a ravenous appetite. I'll give you the highlights.
It rained, hard sometimes. Luckily it wasn't freezing. But I was drenched before I started. And I had consumed a large Gatorade. And the line for the porta potty was 146 people long. So that's how things started. But things quickly improved. Early in the race, I saw a restaurant that we had been conveniently joking about all weekend, "Hung Far Low", a chop suey restaurant. I nearly started crying early in the race with thoughts of "I can't believe I am doing this!" But there wasn't time for that. Miles 2-4 were uphill.
It wasn't as bad as I expected. I was easily distracted by the excitement of it all and the people watching. Some women just don't understand the importance of proper undergarments while running. After the hill, we were graciously rewarded with a nice downhill. Then I saw Becki in the crowd and I shouted, "I SAW HUNG FAR LOW!!" 1/3 of the race was done.
The second third of the race was by far my best. I ran strong and felt great. It was easier than it should have been. I just enjoyed my music and the experience, as cliche as that sounds. As I headed back, I saw Erin, still running hard, and it was great for my own spirit. She looked great. But the last few miles were tough. I got delerious, but in a good way. Even though I've done a lot of races, I suddenly forgot that the mile markers indicated the mile I had just finished, not the one I was starting! Oh my, I only have four miles to go, not 5! That was a great moment for me. I think it saved me actually.
The next funny thing happened near the finish line. It had hit me that I was finishing without walking. I was pumped (you know I know how, to make you stop and stare as I zone out. . . ). I saw the 13 mile marker ahead so I took off. I had saved enough energy for a finish line sprint. Only guess what, after the 13 mile marker, you still have to run 0.1 miles and my finish line sprint couldn't quite sustain it. So I had to slow down a little bit and laughed my ass off to myself that I had done that. It made my finish a bit anticlimactic but awesome nonetheless.
I wandered my way through the finish area. Regrettably now, I didn't take advantage of the great food or the photo op. It was like I didn't get what was going on plus I was, by that time, freezing, soaked, and completely overwhelmed. It took a good 1/2 hour for me to remember my own name.
I lied above. This day wasn't in my top 10. It was in my top 5. I loved it. I felt great the whole time, even when it got hard. For all the doubts I'd had, my training has paid off. I did the absolute BEST I could. My goal has been met. For the record, Erin did amazing and I could have never done this with her support and motivation the past 10 months.
I hurt right now. My heels and knees are experiencing something foreign. It's all in a good way. And it was all worth it. Don't even ask, I can't wait to do it again.
It rained, hard sometimes. Luckily it wasn't freezing. But I was drenched before I started. And I had consumed a large Gatorade. And the line for the porta potty was 146 people long. So that's how things started. But things quickly improved. Early in the race, I saw a restaurant that we had been conveniently joking about all weekend, "Hung Far Low", a chop suey restaurant. I nearly started crying early in the race with thoughts of "I can't believe I am doing this!" But there wasn't time for that. Miles 2-4 were uphill.
It wasn't as bad as I expected. I was easily distracted by the excitement of it all and the people watching. Some women just don't understand the importance of proper undergarments while running. After the hill, we were graciously rewarded with a nice downhill. Then I saw Becki in the crowd and I shouted, "I SAW HUNG FAR LOW!!" 1/3 of the race was done.
The second third of the race was by far my best. I ran strong and felt great. It was easier than it should have been. I just enjoyed my music and the experience, as cliche as that sounds. As I headed back, I saw Erin, still running hard, and it was great for my own spirit. She looked great. But the last few miles were tough. I got delerious, but in a good way. Even though I've done a lot of races, I suddenly forgot that the mile markers indicated the mile I had just finished, not the one I was starting! Oh my, I only have four miles to go, not 5! That was a great moment for me. I think it saved me actually.
The next funny thing happened near the finish line. It had hit me that I was finishing without walking. I was pumped (you know I know how, to make you stop and stare as I zone out. . . ). I saw the 13 mile marker ahead so I took off. I had saved enough energy for a finish line sprint. Only guess what, after the 13 mile marker, you still have to run 0.1 miles and my finish line sprint couldn't quite sustain it. So I had to slow down a little bit and laughed my ass off to myself that I had done that. It made my finish a bit anticlimactic but awesome nonetheless.
I wandered my way through the finish area. Regrettably now, I didn't take advantage of the great food or the photo op. It was like I didn't get what was going on plus I was, by that time, freezing, soaked, and completely overwhelmed. It took a good 1/2 hour for me to remember my own name.
I lied above. This day wasn't in my top 10. It was in my top 5. I loved it. I felt great the whole time, even when it got hard. For all the doubts I'd had, my training has paid off. I did the absolute BEST I could. My goal has been met. For the record, Erin did amazing and I could have never done this with her support and motivation the past 10 months.
I hurt right now. My heels and knees are experiencing something foreign. It's all in a good way. And it was all worth it. Don't even ask, I can't wait to do it again.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Gratitude
It's 5:30 AM. I had the opportunity to sleep until 7:00 today, but I can't. My stomach is in knots, my head is spinning, my heart is pounding. The plane leaves at 5pm. I'm not done packing. If you don't already know this about me, I'm a little prone to anxiety. Let's just say it runs in the family. It might be part of the reason I'm so good at my job. It's not too hard for me to put myself in many of my patients' shoes. When they tell me that they have been the emergency room because they really believed they were dying of a heart attack and it turned out to be a panic attack, I understand. If they lay in bed at night and can't sleep because they can't stop their heads from thinking about all that is going on in their lives, I've been there. And if they say they have a lot to be thankful for so they can't understand why the anxiety persists, I know that feeling well.
But then I stop in my tracks. Wow, I do have a lot to be thankful for. I'm working with these people who don't know if they'll have a home next month because the money is gone and the jobs are no where to be found. Or worse, they live in a single room, sharing one bathroom with a long hall of neighbors and the bedbugs are rooming right along side them. Many don't know their families and can't trust their friends. They have been stolen from, mistreated, abused. They hear voices telling them they'll never be good enough, most hear much worse than that. The ER visits are about much more than a false alarm heart attack. Many have attempted to take their own lives, often more than once.
So, hell yes, I have a lot to be thankful for. The heat is warming my house while I write this. Fresh coffee is brewing. I have an amazing kid who is tucked quietly in his bed, not having to worry about whether there will be breakfast. My husband, also still sound asleep, has supported every step I have taken and I couldn't ask for a better father for my son. I have parents who taught me to work hard but who also rewarded the hard work. Even crazier, I get to eat whenever I want. I don't need to sneak into the Y to shower. I don't have to carry my few prized possessions every where I go for fear of someone sneaking into my bedbug infested room and stealing them while I'm down the hall in the community bathroom.
So what's the moral here, what's the point? Today, I will embrace this anxiety. I will be thankful for it. That doesn't mean I enjoy feeling like I might pass out and fall down the stairs. But I'm going to use it to push forward and tackle my own challenge, which now really seems small compared to the challenges that I see people face every day.
Among the things I am so thankful for, I do want to thank all of you for reading my thoughts every week. It is humbling and motivating all at once and I promise to make you all proud.
Now I need to head out to the ER and see if they'll give me an IV of Valium.
But then I stop in my tracks. Wow, I do have a lot to be thankful for. I'm working with these people who don't know if they'll have a home next month because the money is gone and the jobs are no where to be found. Or worse, they live in a single room, sharing one bathroom with a long hall of neighbors and the bedbugs are rooming right along side them. Many don't know their families and can't trust their friends. They have been stolen from, mistreated, abused. They hear voices telling them they'll never be good enough, most hear much worse than that. The ER visits are about much more than a false alarm heart attack. Many have attempted to take their own lives, often more than once.
So, hell yes, I have a lot to be thankful for. The heat is warming my house while I write this. Fresh coffee is brewing. I have an amazing kid who is tucked quietly in his bed, not having to worry about whether there will be breakfast. My husband, also still sound asleep, has supported every step I have taken and I couldn't ask for a better father for my son. I have parents who taught me to work hard but who also rewarded the hard work. Even crazier, I get to eat whenever I want. I don't need to sneak into the Y to shower. I don't have to carry my few prized possessions every where I go for fear of someone sneaking into my bedbug infested room and stealing them while I'm down the hall in the community bathroom.
So what's the moral here, what's the point? Today, I will embrace this anxiety. I will be thankful for it. That doesn't mean I enjoy feeling like I might pass out and fall down the stairs. But I'm going to use it to push forward and tackle my own challenge, which now really seems small compared to the challenges that I see people face every day.
Among the things I am so thankful for, I do want to thank all of you for reading my thoughts every week. It is humbling and motivating all at once and I promise to make you all proud.
Now I need to head out to the ER and see if they'll give me an IV of Valium.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
One More Week!!
Dear Friends and Readers,
10 months ago, I started this blog as a way to track my training for a half marathon that I am about to run in one week. When I started, I had no idea what to expect from the training or the writing. I have been surprised by both. The training was hard, much harder than I imagined. But it's the writing that has really caught my attention.
It started as a true running blog but has developed into something so much more meaningful to me. I can't believe how many of you actually read this every week and later comment to me in writing or in person. I am touched, truly, that you have read and enjoyed my work. I read every entry recently, to remind myself where this all began. There were obviously days when I was feeling more joyous than others, and times when the running brought out some deeper thoughts, ones that I have had the courage to share with you.
I have logged 550 miles training for this half marathon. WOW! Through that time, I have had several close encounters and have learned where many public restrooms are located. I can tell you a 7 mile route that doesn't include running up hills but mysteriously allows you to run downhill quite often. As for the encounters, they are ALL true. On Prairie Road, just outside Ripon, there is a farmette with some horses. One of them will run superfast circles as you approach. He appears posessed. Don't worry. He won't jump the fence and, after several encounters, he actually appears to simply be trying to catch my attention. Up ahead, there is usually a flock of wild turkeys. They are all talk. Stomp your foot real hard in their direction and they'll gobble off into the corn field like tomorrow is Thanksgiving day and they are running for their lives.
There are suicidal chipmunks on the Northwest Trail. I'm not joking. They will stand there and play "chicken". I have nearly stepped on them many times, but just as I approach they suddenly disappear into a nearby hole in the ground. Don't run down the sidewalk on the east side of Newbury street. There is a beagle who will choke himself senseless on his chain just to try to bite a chunk off of your leg. I think he has a sibling on Fenton street only this sucker is usually off leash. You have to hope his toothless, cigarette smoking owner is outside. Even that isn't a guarantee of your safety. I haven't been running on Fenton for a while.
I've seen deer, snakes, turtles, wonderful birds, and friendly dogs who almost stop me in my tracks with their smiles. None of these encounters can compare to what happens when you try to run through Menomonee Park in Oshkosh. In all honesty, the geese own this place. They mock you, tease you, dare you to stop. The stomping of the foot tactic that worked so well for the turkeys only encourages the geese to hiss and honk and command respect. Unlike the chipmunks, they won't disappear into a hole. Unlike the horse, they do not appear to be having fun. Only the man who lives on Fenton street has a chance with these fools. To make matters worse, there is no way to run through the park without stepping in their waste.
So this is it. One more week. I haven't decided what will happen to this blog when it's over. Honestly, I don't want to give it up, but it's future remains uncertain. It's something I'll have to consider in the coming weeks. But right now, the focus is on Sunday, 10-10-10. More to come. . . .
Love to you all,
Brooke
10 months ago, I started this blog as a way to track my training for a half marathon that I am about to run in one week. When I started, I had no idea what to expect from the training or the writing. I have been surprised by both. The training was hard, much harder than I imagined. But it's the writing that has really caught my attention.
It started as a true running blog but has developed into something so much more meaningful to me. I can't believe how many of you actually read this every week and later comment to me in writing or in person. I am touched, truly, that you have read and enjoyed my work. I read every entry recently, to remind myself where this all began. There were obviously days when I was feeling more joyous than others, and times when the running brought out some deeper thoughts, ones that I have had the courage to share with you.
I have logged 550 miles training for this half marathon. WOW! Through that time, I have had several close encounters and have learned where many public restrooms are located. I can tell you a 7 mile route that doesn't include running up hills but mysteriously allows you to run downhill quite often. As for the encounters, they are ALL true. On Prairie Road, just outside Ripon, there is a farmette with some horses. One of them will run superfast circles as you approach. He appears posessed. Don't worry. He won't jump the fence and, after several encounters, he actually appears to simply be trying to catch my attention. Up ahead, there is usually a flock of wild turkeys. They are all talk. Stomp your foot real hard in their direction and they'll gobble off into the corn field like tomorrow is Thanksgiving day and they are running for their lives.
There are suicidal chipmunks on the Northwest Trail. I'm not joking. They will stand there and play "chicken". I have nearly stepped on them many times, but just as I approach they suddenly disappear into a nearby hole in the ground. Don't run down the sidewalk on the east side of Newbury street. There is a beagle who will choke himself senseless on his chain just to try to bite a chunk off of your leg. I think he has a sibling on Fenton street only this sucker is usually off leash. You have to hope his toothless, cigarette smoking owner is outside. Even that isn't a guarantee of your safety. I haven't been running on Fenton for a while.
I've seen deer, snakes, turtles, wonderful birds, and friendly dogs who almost stop me in my tracks with their smiles. None of these encounters can compare to what happens when you try to run through Menomonee Park in Oshkosh. In all honesty, the geese own this place. They mock you, tease you, dare you to stop. The stomping of the foot tactic that worked so well for the turkeys only encourages the geese to hiss and honk and command respect. Unlike the chipmunks, they won't disappear into a hole. Unlike the horse, they do not appear to be having fun. Only the man who lives on Fenton street has a chance with these fools. To make matters worse, there is no way to run through the park without stepping in their waste.
So this is it. One more week. I haven't decided what will happen to this blog when it's over. Honestly, I don't want to give it up, but it's future remains uncertain. It's something I'll have to consider in the coming weeks. But right now, the focus is on Sunday, 10-10-10. More to come. . . .
Love to you all,
Brooke
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Here we are. Two weeks away from the craziest thing I've ever done. Sober. I could not be here without thanking some awesome musicians. Running without music is nearly impossible for me. Today I am going to take some time to give credit to those artists who have basically pushed me to run harder, faster, farther, without even knowing it. Jay-Z, you are an amazing man whose quotes such as "Can I get a f*%$ you" as well as the entire first verse of "Big Pimpin" have helped me become who I am today. And to your lovely lady Beyonce, who reminds me daily that her "body's too bootylicious," girl you have inspired me to embrace being a big bootied woman.
There is Ludacris (they don't love me for who I am but who I'm destined to be), the ever popular Beastie Boys (well, I think I'm losing my mind this time, this time I'm losing my mind), and a crowd favorite Motley Crue (when we started this band, all we needed, needed was a laugh, years go by I'd say we've kicked some ass). I also want to give an honorary mention to Simple Plan, Poison, The Black Eyed Peas, and Good Charlotte.
Every so often I hear a song that really blows my mind. We all have those songs that make us stop for a moment and remember exactly what was going on in our lives when we heard that song. I have strong attachments to "Linger" by the Cranberries, "Lola" by The Kinks, and "The Sign" by Ace of Base. But none of them measure up to the song that has changed my training for this half marathon. Only this one song has pushed me from a quarter marathoner to a half marathoner.
When your name is Flo Rida, you best be putting up hot lyrics. And Flo Rida really out did his own greatness when he wrote the song "Club Can't Handle Me." With lyrics like, "Still feeling myself I'm like out of control, can't stop now more shots let's go", Flo Rida calls out to us moms in our 30's, reminding us of our glory days. Who can't think back to a college frat party when he shouts "Putch'yo hands up"? And when Flo (I think I can call him that) gets real with the line "Bring ya body here let me switch up your atmosphere", it just about melts my heart.
So when I'm out running and this song hits the top of the playlist, I completely forget what I'm doing and just zone out, which is exactly the point of the song:
You know I know how
To make 'em stop and stare as I zone out
The club can't even handle me right now
Watchin you watchin me I go all out
The club can't even handle me right now.
It reminds me of a time when I may have had just one (or seven) too many plastic cups of Busch Light and I found myself on the dance floor. (Yes, mom, I did this kind of stuff. Maybe you shouldn't be reading this.) It's at those moments where you really think you are amazing, unstoppable, even gorgeous. You think everyone is watching you and they think you are the best dancer even though they might actually be making fun of you. Come on, you know this has happened to you. But then, holy crap, suddenly you are a working 35 year old mom, and it becomes an amazing, unstoppable, gorgeous moment when you realize you are actually going to finish a half marathon!!
So Flo, thank you for this song. I think it was destined to be released the summer I was training for this half marathon. I think you secretly wrote it for 35 year old working moms who thought the club really could handle them at this point. I think you deserve to be told, in the immortal words of Vince Neil, I'd say you're still kickin ass!!!!
Two weeks and counting people, time to get crazy!!
There is Ludacris (they don't love me for who I am but who I'm destined to be), the ever popular Beastie Boys (well, I think I'm losing my mind this time, this time I'm losing my mind), and a crowd favorite Motley Crue (when we started this band, all we needed, needed was a laugh, years go by I'd say we've kicked some ass). I also want to give an honorary mention to Simple Plan, Poison, The Black Eyed Peas, and Good Charlotte.
Every so often I hear a song that really blows my mind. We all have those songs that make us stop for a moment and remember exactly what was going on in our lives when we heard that song. I have strong attachments to "Linger" by the Cranberries, "Lola" by The Kinks, and "The Sign" by Ace of Base. But none of them measure up to the song that has changed my training for this half marathon. Only this one song has pushed me from a quarter marathoner to a half marathoner.
When your name is Flo Rida, you best be putting up hot lyrics. And Flo Rida really out did his own greatness when he wrote the song "Club Can't Handle Me." With lyrics like, "Still feeling myself I'm like out of control, can't stop now more shots let's go", Flo Rida calls out to us moms in our 30's, reminding us of our glory days. Who can't think back to a college frat party when he shouts "Putch'yo hands up"? And when Flo (I think I can call him that) gets real with the line "Bring ya body here let me switch up your atmosphere", it just about melts my heart.
So when I'm out running and this song hits the top of the playlist, I completely forget what I'm doing and just zone out, which is exactly the point of the song:
You know I know how
To make 'em stop and stare as I zone out
The club can't even handle me right now
Watchin you watchin me I go all out
The club can't even handle me right now.
It reminds me of a time when I may have had just one (or seven) too many plastic cups of Busch Light and I found myself on the dance floor. (Yes, mom, I did this kind of stuff. Maybe you shouldn't be reading this.) It's at those moments where you really think you are amazing, unstoppable, even gorgeous. You think everyone is watching you and they think you are the best dancer even though they might actually be making fun of you. Come on, you know this has happened to you. But then, holy crap, suddenly you are a working 35 year old mom, and it becomes an amazing, unstoppable, gorgeous moment when you realize you are actually going to finish a half marathon!!
So Flo, thank you for this song. I think it was destined to be released the summer I was training for this half marathon. I think you secretly wrote it for 35 year old working moms who thought the club really could handle them at this point. I think you deserve to be told, in the immortal words of Vince Neil, I'd say you're still kickin ass!!!!
Two weeks and counting people, time to get crazy!!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Real Great Women
Today was the Fox Cities Marathon. I love this event because I usually know a few of the athletes and I love the course and finish area. Since I work in the Fox Valley, I almost feel a bit of home field advantage. This year, I participated in the Marathon Relay, running a 5 mile leg of the full marathon with some co-workers as team members. It was really fun. I found myself smiling and actually enjoying it, running even a bit faster than usual since I was accountable to the team.
As most of you know, I also won a special honor at the race. With an excerpt from the May 22 post from this blog, I was given the honor of being a "Great Woman of the Race," complete with a special pink shirt. (How I love gear.) There were 19 more of these women out there somewhere but I only saw two of them and was proud to be part of this special group. But the truth is, there are some really great women out there who aren't wearing pink shirts to display their greatness. They go about business quietly making an impact in their own special ways. I'll tell you about a couple of them. You might know them, and if you do, consider yourself very lucky.
There is a young woman who grew up in Ripon, not giving herself much credit. She didn't need to be a stand out athlete or valedictorian. In fact, I don't think she cared much for school or activities related to the place. But she always worked really hard, even if she had to go home stinking of french fries. She never seemed to be super confident but at some point, decided to take a giant leap on her own and moved across the country. She quietly finished college and a master's degree and has been teaching in a neighborhood where breakfast may be more important than learning to read and where showing a 6 year old some real love could be the most meaningful lesson. Now, she's expecting a child of her own and I don't know who will be blessed more, my sister or her baby.
Another similar but yet completely different story is about a woman who could put herself through graduate school while working full time and having two kids in grade school. She's smarter than most women I know but never acts like she is better than anyone else. In my eyes, she can almost do no wrong. She exudes confidence in a humble way, and has been super successful without taking anything for granted. You see where I'm going with this. She's a special combination of sophistication and simplicity. If you've ever met my mom, you know exactly what I am talking about.
So I'm still sitting here in my pink shirt, just a little lazy this afternoon, and I realize that there are great women all around me. I'm only "great" because I've been surrounded by greatness. And that greatness extends so much further. From my friends, to my co-workers, to the girl at the coffee shop who makes the best mochas. There are the women who are making a go with small business ventures, raising their kids (and sometimes their husbands), going back to school, fundraising for charities, and running corporations. Every single one of us has something great inside and the more we share with each other, the more great we all become.
The weeks are flying by and soon I will be taking off to Portland for the 1/2 marathon. I'll be joined by a few of the great women in my life. We'll keep you up to date as the weekend passes by. It's sure to be memorable. Special acknowlegement today to my sister in law, who completed a half marathon after five months of devoted training and about 60 pounds of weight loss and one of my running inspirations, Dianna, who finished her first full marathon. These women are at the top of that list of greatness today.
Now get out there and share your greatness with the women in your life!
As most of you know, I also won a special honor at the race. With an excerpt from the May 22 post from this blog, I was given the honor of being a "Great Woman of the Race," complete with a special pink shirt. (How I love gear.) There were 19 more of these women out there somewhere but I only saw two of them and was proud to be part of this special group. But the truth is, there are some really great women out there who aren't wearing pink shirts to display their greatness. They go about business quietly making an impact in their own special ways. I'll tell you about a couple of them. You might know them, and if you do, consider yourself very lucky.
There is a young woman who grew up in Ripon, not giving herself much credit. She didn't need to be a stand out athlete or valedictorian. In fact, I don't think she cared much for school or activities related to the place. But she always worked really hard, even if she had to go home stinking of french fries. She never seemed to be super confident but at some point, decided to take a giant leap on her own and moved across the country. She quietly finished college and a master's degree and has been teaching in a neighborhood where breakfast may be more important than learning to read and where showing a 6 year old some real love could be the most meaningful lesson. Now, she's expecting a child of her own and I don't know who will be blessed more, my sister or her baby.
Another similar but yet completely different story is about a woman who could put herself through graduate school while working full time and having two kids in grade school. She's smarter than most women I know but never acts like she is better than anyone else. In my eyes, she can almost do no wrong. She exudes confidence in a humble way, and has been super successful without taking anything for granted. You see where I'm going with this. She's a special combination of sophistication and simplicity. If you've ever met my mom, you know exactly what I am talking about.
So I'm still sitting here in my pink shirt, just a little lazy this afternoon, and I realize that there are great women all around me. I'm only "great" because I've been surrounded by greatness. And that greatness extends so much further. From my friends, to my co-workers, to the girl at the coffee shop who makes the best mochas. There are the women who are making a go with small business ventures, raising their kids (and sometimes their husbands), going back to school, fundraising for charities, and running corporations. Every single one of us has something great inside and the more we share with each other, the more great we all become.
The weeks are flying by and soon I will be taking off to Portland for the 1/2 marathon. I'll be joined by a few of the great women in my life. We'll keep you up to date as the weekend passes by. It's sure to be memorable. Special acknowlegement today to my sister in law, who completed a half marathon after five months of devoted training and about 60 pounds of weight loss and one of my running inspirations, Dianna, who finished her first full marathon. These women are at the top of that list of greatness today.
Now get out there and share your greatness with the women in your life!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
The Fuel Needed for True Confidence
Well, a couple of months ago, I wasn't sure about all of this. I've never referred to myself as a runner. I've always told people I was a beginner, learning to run. When you go to races, no matter the distance, there is such a wide range of people and ability levels. The front of the pack contains the stick thin crazy people. The people who were truly born to run, who appear to require little effort, the people we know we cannot catch. In the back, there is usually a group of walkers. These guys are not there to set any records. They are there for the experience, the cause, or because they are getting started. I sometimes envy this group because they don't appear to be putting a lot of pressure on themselves. They look like they are actually having fun, like they are not in pain.
Since I decided to learn to run, I have fallen in the middle. Even the middle has a wide variety of ability levels. I've considered myself a beginner, sometimes an advanced beginner, afraid to move ahead in the middle pack, not sure I could fit into this group. I get a lot of thigh chafing when I wear the short running shorts. I haven't run a sub 30 minute 5K. There are plenty of days when I feel like I've never run before and I struggle to finish the first mile. I've been looking for some evidence, some proof that I can call myself a runner. I think it happened today.
I went to the running store, where I still feel completely out of place, like the employees must be laughing when I leave. (That woman runs! HA HA!!) I went there to purchase a fuel belt. This is the funniest piece of running gear. It is a belt with mini water bottles attached so you don't have to carry water. I decided that since I was shooting for a nine mile run, I should have one of these. I didn't really want one, afraid that it would feel heavy, look ridiculous, and just basically irritate me. I actually considered driving my route and hiding bottles of water along the way in the brush along the sides of the road. Something told me that this plan may actually be more ridiculous than the belt. So I left the running store with a fuel belt, a stick of body glide (hey, maybe I can try the short shorts and not have chafing with this stuff!), and the impression that the guy wasn't laughing at me when I left.
The goal for today, with four mini bottles filled with G2 strapped to my waist, was nine miles. Nine is a scary number when you are just a beginner. What am I saying? FIVE is a scary number! But nine seems like a big deal. A crazy big deal. It's so close to ten. It's so far to run. Could I really do it??? Hell yes, I'm wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? A person who chooses to run 9 miles should finally be able to call herself a runner, especially if she is going to traipse around in this silly contraption.
For the first time ever, I found the first 5 miles to be totally bearable. I had no desire to quit. I kept a mantra in my head "nine is fine", and repeated it endlessly. The next couple were tough but I was entertaining myself by laughing each time I passed a place where I had planned to hide a water bottle in the absence of my fancy belt. The belt was great, by the way. At the start of mile 7, I was running through Arcade Acres, my childhood neighborhood. Umm. . . here's where it starts getting fun. I was crying because I never ran this road as a kid. I biked it, walked it, skipped it, played tennis on it but I never ran on it. I was listening to the song "The Club Can't Handle Me" and really felt like NO ONE could handle me right now.
I planned my last mile on the Northwest Trail because I have been enjoying it lately. One mile to go! But damn it. I am wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? I am a RUNNER today, aren't I? If I stopped at the ninth mile, I would still have a mile to walk home. What crazy runner with a fuel belt would actually do that? A woman with a fuel belt runs that tenth mile. And she did. Probably the best part was when I ran up behind a man on the trail and he said, "Oh, you scared me." My response? "I'm on mile ten, I can't stop now. I've never done this before." Because he cared? Not sure, but I'm pretty sure he saw my fuel belt. (How could he miss it?)
So, yeah, I'm bragging. I ran ten miles today. I'm doing a half marathon. I wear a fuel belt. This is the day. I am a runner. No non-runner could accomplish this. I'm walking into that running store with my head held high. I may have actually impressed my hard to impress husband. I've finally impressed myself. I AM a runner.
Did I mention the fuel belt?
Since I decided to learn to run, I have fallen in the middle. Even the middle has a wide variety of ability levels. I've considered myself a beginner, sometimes an advanced beginner, afraid to move ahead in the middle pack, not sure I could fit into this group. I get a lot of thigh chafing when I wear the short running shorts. I haven't run a sub 30 minute 5K. There are plenty of days when I feel like I've never run before and I struggle to finish the first mile. I've been looking for some evidence, some proof that I can call myself a runner. I think it happened today.
I went to the running store, where I still feel completely out of place, like the employees must be laughing when I leave. (That woman runs! HA HA!!) I went there to purchase a fuel belt. This is the funniest piece of running gear. It is a belt with mini water bottles attached so you don't have to carry water. I decided that since I was shooting for a nine mile run, I should have one of these. I didn't really want one, afraid that it would feel heavy, look ridiculous, and just basically irritate me. I actually considered driving my route and hiding bottles of water along the way in the brush along the sides of the road. Something told me that this plan may actually be more ridiculous than the belt. So I left the running store with a fuel belt, a stick of body glide (hey, maybe I can try the short shorts and not have chafing with this stuff!), and the impression that the guy wasn't laughing at me when I left.
The goal for today, with four mini bottles filled with G2 strapped to my waist, was nine miles. Nine is a scary number when you are just a beginner. What am I saying? FIVE is a scary number! But nine seems like a big deal. A crazy big deal. It's so close to ten. It's so far to run. Could I really do it??? Hell yes, I'm wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? A person who chooses to run 9 miles should finally be able to call herself a runner, especially if she is going to traipse around in this silly contraption.
For the first time ever, I found the first 5 miles to be totally bearable. I had no desire to quit. I kept a mantra in my head "nine is fine", and repeated it endlessly. The next couple were tough but I was entertaining myself by laughing each time I passed a place where I had planned to hide a water bottle in the absence of my fancy belt. The belt was great, by the way. At the start of mile 7, I was running through Arcade Acres, my childhood neighborhood. Umm. . . here's where it starts getting fun. I was crying because I never ran this road as a kid. I biked it, walked it, skipped it, played tennis on it but I never ran on it. I was listening to the song "The Club Can't Handle Me" and really felt like NO ONE could handle me right now.
I planned my last mile on the Northwest Trail because I have been enjoying it lately. One mile to go! But damn it. I am wearing a fuel belt, aren't I? I am a RUNNER today, aren't I? If I stopped at the ninth mile, I would still have a mile to walk home. What crazy runner with a fuel belt would actually do that? A woman with a fuel belt runs that tenth mile. And she did. Probably the best part was when I ran up behind a man on the trail and he said, "Oh, you scared me." My response? "I'm on mile ten, I can't stop now. I've never done this before." Because he cared? Not sure, but I'm pretty sure he saw my fuel belt. (How could he miss it?)
So, yeah, I'm bragging. I ran ten miles today. I'm doing a half marathon. I wear a fuel belt. This is the day. I am a runner. No non-runner could accomplish this. I'm walking into that running store with my head held high. I may have actually impressed my hard to impress husband. I've finally impressed myself. I AM a runner.
Did I mention the fuel belt?
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