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?
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Grab a Lab
Have your workouts suffered lately? Are you bored with the usual routes and music? Need a little pick me up? I have the answer for you: GRAB A LAB!!
I hate wind. So much. It is my absolute number one enemy when it comes to working out. Have you tried riding your bike or running in the wind? It is torture for me. My eyes water so bad that I look like I just finished watching the movie Beaches. I feel like I can't move or that I am actually running backwards at times. When I left work tonight, the wind was gusting at a nice steady 25-30mph. I was planning to run 5 miles but I couldn't bear the thought of it. But I knew I had to do something so I decided to go for a long walk instead, although I was dreading that too. Until I got the idea that I needed to change things up a bit. I grabbed a lab!
If you don't have a dog, you may not get anything I am about to say. I have three dogs. One happens to be a chocolate lab. He is a really good dog. Of course we've had our moments. He has eaten pairs of Doc Martens, whole packages of brats, trash, and other really disgusting items. He's also puked all of these things up which has been a real pleasure. He has soiled our carpets and run away multiple times. He got so sick that we had to max our home equity loan to save him. Certain people, who shall remain nameless, would not have tolerated this behavior or expense (you know who you are).
But if you have a dog, especially a lab, you know exactly why we tolerate this buffet of trash and subsequent vomit. You, too, would sacrifice your first born in order to save your lab's life. Ok, maybe not, but you would take out a second mortgage. And here's why. A lab is NEVER sad, depressed, or upset in any way. A lab is everything most humans aren't; loyal, friendly, happy, joyful, hopeful. A lab will also do anything to ensure his owner's happiness. This includes running in the wind.
So on this evening of gusting winds, I leashed up Blue and hit the trail. Blue does not do well with the leash. He will nearly strangle himself without seeming to understand that he could actually breathe if he just laid off a little bit. On the trail, I take him off the leash and that's where the fun begins. This dog literally had a smile on his face the entire time. He splashed in the stream, sniffed everything, ate grass (and who knows what else), and chased rabbits. I was worried he wouldn't make it the full 6 miles since he is getting old. HA!! What a joke, labs don't tire on a trail. He has no idea how old he is, he only knows that he is having the time of his life.
When we hit the last mile, it was pouring rain and the wind persisted, but it didn't bother me a bit. When you frolic with a lab, you completely forget about your surroundings and you are able to enjoy that moment almost as much as him. If you don't have a lab in your life, I suggest you get to know one. I swear you will hurt less, love more, and learn to enjoy even the worst days in life. He even helped me enjoy the hated wind. Too bad I can't take him to Portland with me!
I hate wind. So much. It is my absolute number one enemy when it comes to working out. Have you tried riding your bike or running in the wind? It is torture for me. My eyes water so bad that I look like I just finished watching the movie Beaches. I feel like I can't move or that I am actually running backwards at times. When I left work tonight, the wind was gusting at a nice steady 25-30mph. I was planning to run 5 miles but I couldn't bear the thought of it. But I knew I had to do something so I decided to go for a long walk instead, although I was dreading that too. Until I got the idea that I needed to change things up a bit. I grabbed a lab!
If you don't have a dog, you may not get anything I am about to say. I have three dogs. One happens to be a chocolate lab. He is a really good dog. Of course we've had our moments. He has eaten pairs of Doc Martens, whole packages of brats, trash, and other really disgusting items. He's also puked all of these things up which has been a real pleasure. He has soiled our carpets and run away multiple times. He got so sick that we had to max our home equity loan to save him. Certain people, who shall remain nameless, would not have tolerated this behavior or expense (you know who you are).
But if you have a dog, especially a lab, you know exactly why we tolerate this buffet of trash and subsequent vomit. You, too, would sacrifice your first born in order to save your lab's life. Ok, maybe not, but you would take out a second mortgage. And here's why. A lab is NEVER sad, depressed, or upset in any way. A lab is everything most humans aren't; loyal, friendly, happy, joyful, hopeful. A lab will also do anything to ensure his owner's happiness. This includes running in the wind.
So on this evening of gusting winds, I leashed up Blue and hit the trail. Blue does not do well with the leash. He will nearly strangle himself without seeming to understand that he could actually breathe if he just laid off a little bit. On the trail, I take him off the leash and that's where the fun begins. This dog literally had a smile on his face the entire time. He splashed in the stream, sniffed everything, ate grass (and who knows what else), and chased rabbits. I was worried he wouldn't make it the full 6 miles since he is getting old. HA!! What a joke, labs don't tire on a trail. He has no idea how old he is, he only knows that he is having the time of his life.
When we hit the last mile, it was pouring rain and the wind persisted, but it didn't bother me a bit. When you frolic with a lab, you completely forget about your surroundings and you are able to enjoy that moment almost as much as him. If you don't have a lab in your life, I suggest you get to know one. I swear you will hurt less, love more, and learn to enjoy even the worst days in life. He even helped me enjoy the hated wind. Too bad I can't take him to Portland with me!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Will the Real Brooke Please Stand Up?
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 :)
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 :)
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?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
A Change of Strategy
"The definition of psychosis is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results." While that's not really the true definition of psychosis, it really is true that outcomes never change if the process of getting there is always the same. I have been beating myself up for the past few months for not running as well as I thought I should. So this week, I decided to change my strategy.
Usually, I plan a distance and set out to run that distance. Most days, I make it about 1/3 of the way, get frustrated, start walking, and beat myself up for it. So starts the evil thoughts of bad body image, insecurity, and doubt. I have done this over and over and over. I am so tired of being disappointed in my workouts and in myself.
Here is the new strategy. I will PLAN to incorporate walking. This involves a lot of mental stamina, which I continue to believe is the core strength needed for a distance runner. I make little plans in my head as I run such as "I will run for four songs, walk for one." Or I will run until the end of a certain block, then walk one, run six, etc. Some of you might wonder how this will ever get me to my goal of finishing a half marathon.
The truth is, it really helps. Giving myself permission to walk has been the best thing I could have done. I am running stronger during the running portions, and appreciating how hard I have worked. I am walking less than planned. The total distance is inching closer to the goal. And when I get home, I am satisfied because I have met my daily goal. No more bad attitude, no more disappointment. This is a great strategy!!
Other things that have blown my mind this week:
1. Ricki Weeks was hit by a fast ball in the head last night. He got up and finished the game. There is some serious mental toughness. He hit a homerun today.
2. My kid can force himself to stay awake even if he's played 3 baseball games, swam for an hour, and sat in the hot sun. Hard core mental stamina.
3. I have a pug that will spin in circles and bark loudly every time someone dries their hair or flushes the toilet. Ok, she is dumb. There is no mental toughness there. But it's really funny.
Lesson learned. If you continue to disappoint yourself while repeating certain behaviors over and over, stop and think. One little change in the way you think and act can set you on a whole new course. Isn't that a nice thought?
Usually, I plan a distance and set out to run that distance. Most days, I make it about 1/3 of the way, get frustrated, start walking, and beat myself up for it. So starts the evil thoughts of bad body image, insecurity, and doubt. I have done this over and over and over. I am so tired of being disappointed in my workouts and in myself.
Here is the new strategy. I will PLAN to incorporate walking. This involves a lot of mental stamina, which I continue to believe is the core strength needed for a distance runner. I make little plans in my head as I run such as "I will run for four songs, walk for one." Or I will run until the end of a certain block, then walk one, run six, etc. Some of you might wonder how this will ever get me to my goal of finishing a half marathon.
The truth is, it really helps. Giving myself permission to walk has been the best thing I could have done. I am running stronger during the running portions, and appreciating how hard I have worked. I am walking less than planned. The total distance is inching closer to the goal. And when I get home, I am satisfied because I have met my daily goal. No more bad attitude, no more disappointment. This is a great strategy!!
Other things that have blown my mind this week:
1. Ricki Weeks was hit by a fast ball in the head last night. He got up and finished the game. There is some serious mental toughness. He hit a homerun today.
2. My kid can force himself to stay awake even if he's played 3 baseball games, swam for an hour, and sat in the hot sun. Hard core mental stamina.
3. I have a pug that will spin in circles and bark loudly every time someone dries their hair or flushes the toilet. Ok, she is dumb. There is no mental toughness there. But it's really funny.
Lesson learned. If you continue to disappoint yourself while repeating certain behaviors over and over, stop and think. One little change in the way you think and act can set you on a whole new course. Isn't that a nice thought?
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Wake Up!!
Oh boy, I haven't written a blog entry for almost a month. The summer is passing me by. I have been living on baseball diamonds and out of my car. It has been fun but it has really taken the focus off of any sort of "training." I continue to work at it. I have run up to 5 miles at a crack and plan to reach for six this weekend.
But I have had a wake up call, my friends, my wonderful readers. Let me preface this by saying that I'm not looking for pity or comments telling me I'm wrong. I know what I saw. Here goes. I saw a photo of myself today. A really horrible one. At first, when I saw this photo, I didn't realize it was me. I saw a woman who looked like she needed a water pill. I was stunned and saddened when it struck me that I was looking at myself. Trust me, I wanted to run into traffic.
Let's talk about this. Body image SUCKS. I'm sure many of you can relate to the argument that takes place in my head on a daily basis. A constant battle of good and evil. Good tells me to be happy with who I am and to cherish my strengths. Evil reminds me that our sick and twisted society appreciates beauty and that beauty equals thin. I hate this battle almost as much as I hate baked apples. If you don't know me well, trust me, that's a lot of hate. Considering my profession, I should know how to work this battle out in my head. But I don't.
Good says things like "nice work out today" or "you did a really great job with that patient" or "what a great family you have." Evil responds with "how can someone who works out so much still be overweight" or "how did you let that guy talk you into another adderall prescription" or "you are not spending near enough time with your son." The trick is to remember that the good thoughts are usually the correct ones even though the evil ones are very convincing.
So now what? I really can't bear another round of Weight Watchers. I know I can work out more and I will. I have to for goodness sake, I'm running a half marathon in just over 2 months!! I also know I'll feel better tomorrow. I always do. But I swear to God if anyone brings donuts to work, my evil side is going to BURST!!
But I have had a wake up call, my friends, my wonderful readers. Let me preface this by saying that I'm not looking for pity or comments telling me I'm wrong. I know what I saw. Here goes. I saw a photo of myself today. A really horrible one. At first, when I saw this photo, I didn't realize it was me. I saw a woman who looked like she needed a water pill. I was stunned and saddened when it struck me that I was looking at myself. Trust me, I wanted to run into traffic.
Let's talk about this. Body image SUCKS. I'm sure many of you can relate to the argument that takes place in my head on a daily basis. A constant battle of good and evil. Good tells me to be happy with who I am and to cherish my strengths. Evil reminds me that our sick and twisted society appreciates beauty and that beauty equals thin. I hate this battle almost as much as I hate baked apples. If you don't know me well, trust me, that's a lot of hate. Considering my profession, I should know how to work this battle out in my head. But I don't.
Good says things like "nice work out today" or "you did a really great job with that patient" or "what a great family you have." Evil responds with "how can someone who works out so much still be overweight" or "how did you let that guy talk you into another adderall prescription" or "you are not spending near enough time with your son." The trick is to remember that the good thoughts are usually the correct ones even though the evil ones are very convincing.
So now what? I really can't bear another round of Weight Watchers. I know I can work out more and I will. I have to for goodness sake, I'm running a half marathon in just over 2 months!! I also know I'll feel better tomorrow. I always do. But I swear to God if anyone brings donuts to work, my evil side is going to BURST!!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Guest Blogger
Well, she doesn't know it yet, but I don't think she'll mind. My great friend, and the woman who got me into this mess:), Erin, has written a message to me this week that I think we can all learn from. I have been trying to keep it a secret from all of you, but my training for this half marathon just isn't going well at all. I have gained some weight and it's weighing me down. I haven't believed in myself and I've been avoiding it all. I have done a lot of work on my bicycle and with yoga but have not focused on the running the way I should.
Today, Erin, our guest blogger, ran 7 miles. This was her longest run EVER and up until today, she had been feeling very much like me about not finding the motivation. I was honestly shocked when I saw that she ran 7 because I really can't imagine doing it right now. So, I asked her how she did it and this is the response I got:
"I COMPLETELY know how you feel. I have not been running even close to this in the past two months. I usually do 3 while an occasional 4 miler for a "long" run!
But this morning it was all about my mentality. I told Bryan that I was going to be gone for 2 hours. I was going to try for six miles, but when I was plugging it into the Ipod Nike system, I told myself, "Why not try for 7?" It was a beautiful day outside. I kept telling myself that I could walk anytime after five miles and I that I would go as slow as I wanted. Mile 1 and 2 sucked, and I started to lose confidence. I slowed down to what felt like a jogging/walk. Then I hit the halfway point and thought, "I am doing okay." It felt so good to "head back" and know that I was on the last half of the run. Miles 5 and 6 were so slow, but I just kept telling myself, "You have the best opportunity to get to seven today." I hadn't had alcohol last night, I got a full night's sleep, I had a good breakfast, I didn't have to be home anytime soon, I was running by myself, and I had great weather. I told myself that if I was going to hit 7, today was the perfect day. I cannot tell you how much I kept talking to myself on the run today - it seemed constant after mile 4. The last mile was so hard, but I knew I wanted to hear that Nike+ system tell me, "Congratulations. That was your longest run yet."
My first response was utter jealously and a bit of self loathing. I'm sorry, that's just brutal honesty. I am very proud of Erin and instead of turning this into a chance to beat myself up, I am going to use her energy to try to turn my mess around. Several weeks back I wrote about the mental stamina and strength necessary for endurance running. Now is the time to practice what I had preached. Erin is living proof that it works.
Thanks for inspiring us all this week, my dear friend.
Today, Erin, our guest blogger, ran 7 miles. This was her longest run EVER and up until today, she had been feeling very much like me about not finding the motivation. I was honestly shocked when I saw that she ran 7 because I really can't imagine doing it right now. So, I asked her how she did it and this is the response I got:
"I COMPLETELY know how you feel. I have not been running even close to this in the past two months. I usually do 3 while an occasional 4 miler for a "long" run!
But this morning it was all about my mentality. I told Bryan that I was going to be gone for 2 hours. I was going to try for six miles, but when I was plugging it into the Ipod Nike system, I told myself, "Why not try for 7?" It was a beautiful day outside. I kept telling myself that I could walk anytime after five miles and I that I would go as slow as I wanted. Mile 1 and 2 sucked, and I started to lose confidence. I slowed down to what felt like a jogging/walk. Then I hit the halfway point and thought, "I am doing okay." It felt so good to "head back" and know that I was on the last half of the run. Miles 5 and 6 were so slow, but I just kept telling myself, "You have the best opportunity to get to seven today." I hadn't had alcohol last night, I got a full night's sleep, I had a good breakfast, I didn't have to be home anytime soon, I was running by myself, and I had great weather. I told myself that if I was going to hit 7, today was the perfect day. I cannot tell you how much I kept talking to myself on the run today - it seemed constant after mile 4. The last mile was so hard, but I knew I wanted to hear that Nike+ system tell me, "Congratulations. That was your longest run yet."
My first response was utter jealously and a bit of self loathing. I'm sorry, that's just brutal honesty. I am very proud of Erin and instead of turning this into a chance to beat myself up, I am going to use her energy to try to turn my mess around. Several weeks back I wrote about the mental stamina and strength necessary for endurance running. Now is the time to practice what I had preached. Erin is living proof that it works.
Thanks for inspiring us all this week, my dear friend.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Kids with Passion
One of the neatest things about having children is how much you can learn from them. I missed writing my blog last week because I was so busy learning from my son. Not to mention carting him around, making sure the baseball uniform was clean, and trying to serve something other than chicken nuggets. Maybe this blog will sound like I'm bragging, and really, I am. I'm sure that some of you will say, "oh, all kids are like that. She's just biased." And that's ok. There is a part of me that truly believes something special is happening with my son. He is teaching me about passion.
I have one of those little boys who lives for sports. Football, basketball, baseball. . . .It is possible that his father brainwashed him at a young age. He spent countless hours at fields and gyms watching his cousin before he was old enough to play himself. But this summer, I am learning that my son has fire in him for baseball like nothing I have ever seen. He watches Brewer's games like Jesus himself might be playing. All of them. He will play catch until I literally have to stop at the risk of needing rotator cuff repair, and then he just finds his dad to play some more. He SLEEPS WITH HIS FREAKING BATTING HELMET.
Sam is on two baseball teams, one being the tournament team for kids 8 and under. We play or practice baseball at least 4 nights a week, if not more. That doesn't count the hours against my shoulder. It is amazing to watch him on the field. He takes infielding very seriously, studies the pros, and then mimicks their actions. He's working on the hitting part, and I'm sure that will come, but for now he is blowing me away with his play in the field. He could be exhausted, sick, in a bad mood, and he would never skip practice.
And this is where the learning comes in. Do you know how often I skip a workout, or shorten it with excuses like "I am just so tired from a really long day," or "I'll run an extra 15 minutes tomorrow"? My kid wouldn't even consider leaving practice early. In fact, he wants to practice more when we get home. I would never sleep with my running shoes on my pillow, but maybe I should! If I gave to running the same passion that Sam gives to baseball, I would already have run that 1/2 marathon and may be planning for the seemingly unreachable full 26.2.
Drumming up that passion is hard. It's something that just lives inside certain people. I'm really jealous of my son for having it innately. And really proud of him for putting it to good use. I think I have it in there, maybe not for running but for other things. If I can somehow direct it toward my workouts and put in just that much more, I know I'll see more progress. I guess I'll watch Sam at his tournament next weekend and see if I can learn just how to dig up this passion and put it to use.
Trust me, I have no delusions that my son will one day play second base for the Brewers. I am not one of those parents. For his sake, I hope that he finds something else in life that stirs the same passion in him because the cool thing is that I already know he will work hard and be successful. Perhaps it's my passion for this child that will drive me forward!
Find your passion and have a beautiful week!
I have one of those little boys who lives for sports. Football, basketball, baseball. . . .It is possible that his father brainwashed him at a young age. He spent countless hours at fields and gyms watching his cousin before he was old enough to play himself. But this summer, I am learning that my son has fire in him for baseball like nothing I have ever seen. He watches Brewer's games like Jesus himself might be playing. All of them. He will play catch until I literally have to stop at the risk of needing rotator cuff repair, and then he just finds his dad to play some more. He SLEEPS WITH HIS FREAKING BATTING HELMET.
Sam is on two baseball teams, one being the tournament team for kids 8 and under. We play or practice baseball at least 4 nights a week, if not more. That doesn't count the hours against my shoulder. It is amazing to watch him on the field. He takes infielding very seriously, studies the pros, and then mimicks their actions. He's working on the hitting part, and I'm sure that will come, but for now he is blowing me away with his play in the field. He could be exhausted, sick, in a bad mood, and he would never skip practice.
And this is where the learning comes in. Do you know how often I skip a workout, or shorten it with excuses like "I am just so tired from a really long day," or "I'll run an extra 15 minutes tomorrow"? My kid wouldn't even consider leaving practice early. In fact, he wants to practice more when we get home. I would never sleep with my running shoes on my pillow, but maybe I should! If I gave to running the same passion that Sam gives to baseball, I would already have run that 1/2 marathon and may be planning for the seemingly unreachable full 26.2.
Drumming up that passion is hard. It's something that just lives inside certain people. I'm really jealous of my son for having it innately. And really proud of him for putting it to good use. I think I have it in there, maybe not for running but for other things. If I can somehow direct it toward my workouts and put in just that much more, I know I'll see more progress. I guess I'll watch Sam at his tournament next weekend and see if I can learn just how to dig up this passion and put it to use.
Trust me, I have no delusions that my son will one day play second base for the Brewers. I am not one of those parents. For his sake, I hope that he finds something else in life that stirs the same passion in him because the cool thing is that I already know he will work hard and be successful. Perhaps it's my passion for this child that will drive me forward!
Find your passion and have a beautiful week!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
One Good Deed
So I've started a new practice along with this training mission. Each week, I am writing a list of goals and putting it up on the fridge. It usually includes the total number of miles I plan to run in that week, other workouts that I want to fit in, and at the bottom of the list each week it says, "ONE GOOD DEED." I want to remember that while I'm so focused on this running, training, and the rest of my busy life, it is sometimes good to think about people other than myself. In my line of work, we are always encouraging people to put themselves first. I can't tell you the number of times I have said to my patients, "You can't be a good parent [friend, employee, etc.] if you don't take care of yourself and make your mental and physical wellness your top priority." I strongly believe that.
But, I also believe that mental wellness sometimes comes from giving a part of yourself to others in an effort to help them achieve wellness of their own. Let's face it, giving, donating, volunteering. . . .they all have a two fold effect. You make the other person happy and someone benefits from your generosity. But you can also learn so much about yourself by feeling appreciated and seeing that you do have something to offer to other people.
Good deeds don't have to be a big deal. There was one week that I brought a giant bag of popcorn to work to share with my co-workers. (The Dairy Queen in Neenah has the BEST popcorn.) People enjoyed it and we were all happy. If any co-workers missed it and you are reading now, sorry for your loss. The popcorn was awesome.
Other times, good deeds can be a very big deal. This week, I took a day off work to volunteer for Healthy Hobby Day at Princeton Elementary school. Although I am only a yoga novice, I was invited after doing some yoga with the cub scouts one night. This day in Princeton included six half-hour sessions of yoga with kids in grades K-5.
I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The kids were amazing, for the most part. They soaked it in, took it seriously, and tried everything at least once. Even the boys, who were a bit skeptical to say the least, really enjoyed themselves. It helped that Sam came with me and demonstrated all of the poses. They even enjoyed the crazy African music that I brought for the background.
There were a few trying moments. One fifth grade girl told me that she already had six pack abs and asked me if I ever did. (None of your business.) One sweet little girl shared that her family oven has been broken for a long time so they have to bake cookies in the pizza oven. (Apparently it works, by the way.) And of course, there were the show off kids who wanted me to watch them exclusively as they did each pose perfectly.
But when we were done, I got lots of hugs. I had parents who worked at the school coming to tell me that their kids can't wait to try more yoga at home. The school staff treated me like a queen. And that's when it hit me. . .I don't know who benefitted from this day more, me or the kids. I was there for the kids, but when I left, I felt like I had been given just as much. And that's what this "ONE GOOD DEED" thing is all about. It is inspiring and their are no losers.
Happy Holiday Weekend. Get out there and enjoy this glorious weather as it, too, has been a wonderful gift!!
But, I also believe that mental wellness sometimes comes from giving a part of yourself to others in an effort to help them achieve wellness of their own. Let's face it, giving, donating, volunteering. . . .they all have a two fold effect. You make the other person happy and someone benefits from your generosity. But you can also learn so much about yourself by feeling appreciated and seeing that you do have something to offer to other people.
Good deeds don't have to be a big deal. There was one week that I brought a giant bag of popcorn to work to share with my co-workers. (The Dairy Queen in Neenah has the BEST popcorn.) People enjoyed it and we were all happy. If any co-workers missed it and you are reading now, sorry for your loss. The popcorn was awesome.
Other times, good deeds can be a very big deal. This week, I took a day off work to volunteer for Healthy Hobby Day at Princeton Elementary school. Although I am only a yoga novice, I was invited after doing some yoga with the cub scouts one night. This day in Princeton included six half-hour sessions of yoga with kids in grades K-5.
I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The kids were amazing, for the most part. They soaked it in, took it seriously, and tried everything at least once. Even the boys, who were a bit skeptical to say the least, really enjoyed themselves. It helped that Sam came with me and demonstrated all of the poses. They even enjoyed the crazy African music that I brought for the background.
There were a few trying moments. One fifth grade girl told me that she already had six pack abs and asked me if I ever did. (None of your business.) One sweet little girl shared that her family oven has been broken for a long time so they have to bake cookies in the pizza oven. (Apparently it works, by the way.) And of course, there were the show off kids who wanted me to watch them exclusively as they did each pose perfectly.
But when we were done, I got lots of hugs. I had parents who worked at the school coming to tell me that their kids can't wait to try more yoga at home. The school staff treated me like a queen. And that's when it hit me. . .I don't know who benefitted from this day more, me or the kids. I was there for the kids, but when I left, I felt like I had been given just as much. And that's what this "ONE GOOD DEED" thing is all about. It is inspiring and their are no losers.
Happy Holiday Weekend. Get out there and enjoy this glorious weather as it, too, has been a wonderful gift!!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Why, why, why???????????
It's a really good question. I was at a party last summer and had to leave early to get up for a 5k the next morning and one of my friends looked at me and simply said, "why?". "What do you mean?," I asked. And his question was, "Why on earth would you do that?" As I said, it is a really good question and it's one that I ask myself a lot. There are many obvious answers but the real answer is not so obvious. Let's review. . . .
Obvious answer #1: To get skinny. Well, throw this one out right away. I'd love to be skinny but it's not working out so good. There are two parts to getting skinny and excercise is just one of them. The other one does not include alfredo sauce.
Obvious answer #2: It's fun. No, it isn't really that fun. It isn't fun when you are running a 5K and think you must be nearing mile three but then see a sign that says "MILE 1". It's fun at the beginning and fun at the end, but the middle can sometimes really suck.
Obvious answer #3: To be healthy. This is a good one. I do want to be healthy and live a long life. I hope I can run 5K's with my grandkids some day as I saw one grandfather doing with his granddaughter this morning. I have no desire to have a heart attack or take a bunch of blood pressure medication. I like to be able to run up and down the stairs without having to catch my breath.
Obvious answer #4: The gear. I suppose I could walk in this gear or do other excercise in it. But somehow this gear gets me all fired up.
The truth. The truth is hard to explain. As a kid, I was not an athlete. I was a nail polisher, a dancer, a slumber partier, a boy chaser, a sun bather. I played little league but wanted to puke before every game. I still can't catch, or throw for that matter. I cried on mile run day in gym class. I came in last every time, usually walking. I honestly believed, until last year, that I COULD NOT run. I am in awe of myself every time I do. So that is why I run. I run because I CAN!
At the end of every run I think about that girl I used to be and I shake my head and wonder where this woman came from. It's hard to believe, really, that I can do this. It makes me wonder what else I can do and that is super exciting!
Obvious answer #1: To get skinny. Well, throw this one out right away. I'd love to be skinny but it's not working out so good. There are two parts to getting skinny and excercise is just one of them. The other one does not include alfredo sauce.
Obvious answer #2: It's fun. No, it isn't really that fun. It isn't fun when you are running a 5K and think you must be nearing mile three but then see a sign that says "MILE 1". It's fun at the beginning and fun at the end, but the middle can sometimes really suck.
Obvious answer #3: To be healthy. This is a good one. I do want to be healthy and live a long life. I hope I can run 5K's with my grandkids some day as I saw one grandfather doing with his granddaughter this morning. I have no desire to have a heart attack or take a bunch of blood pressure medication. I like to be able to run up and down the stairs without having to catch my breath.
Obvious answer #4: The gear. I suppose I could walk in this gear or do other excercise in it. But somehow this gear gets me all fired up.
The truth. The truth is hard to explain. As a kid, I was not an athlete. I was a nail polisher, a dancer, a slumber partier, a boy chaser, a sun bather. I played little league but wanted to puke before every game. I still can't catch, or throw for that matter. I cried on mile run day in gym class. I came in last every time, usually walking. I honestly believed, until last year, that I COULD NOT run. I am in awe of myself every time I do. So that is why I run. I run because I CAN!
At the end of every run I think about that girl I used to be and I shake my head and wonder where this woman came from. It's hard to believe, really, that I can do this. It makes me wonder what else I can do and that is super exciting!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
"Ad" it up
I am a sucker for commercials. If a product has a good commercial, I will try it or buy it. Marketing agencies and the people who hire them love people like me. Companies like Nike, Gap, Target, and Menards have been getting my business for years. Who doesn't know and love the Menards jingle? Come on, it's genius! Have you heard the new radio spots for Michigan Travel? A soothing voice paints a picture of gorgeous scenery and nostaglic summer nights, camping under brilliant stars. I am packing tomorrow. Upper Michigan, here I come!!!!
On the flip side, if I don't like your commercial, you better watch out. Recently a health care corporation in Green Bay was promoting their Birthing Center, using a man as a spokesperson. I didn't get it at all. What does a man know about a place to give birth? How does he know what a woman needs to feel comfortable while she pushes another human through her birth canal? He wasn't a doctor or anything. . . . . just a man. . . . promoting a birthing center. I see he is now starring in their cardiac care commercials. If I ever see him in the birthing center again, his next stop might be the trauma unit.
So what does this have to do with my running blog? A lot. As I've mentioned, many times, I love Gatorade. I have a blueberry-pomegranite G2 in the fridge right now as my reward for running later today. YAY! The new Gatorade ads are very exciting. If you haven't seen them or missed my blog last week, they are promoting a new three step fueling system for athletes. As a loyal Gatorade drinker and commercial watcher, I found it important for me to run out and try this system immediately.
Step one, check out the packaging. It's cool. Typical Gatorade stuff, the lightening bolt, etc. Very good. Next step, read the label. Uh-oh. Here's where it started to fall apart for me. The gel is basically sugar and vitamin B. I didn't try it or buy it because it costs a lot and has a whole bunch of calories. Part 2 is the Gatorade I know and love. Any flavor, original or G2, they now call it "Performance", meant to rehydrate during activity. The final product, part 3, is "Recovery". It is a thicker, syrupy Gatorade with added protien. Sam wanted to try it, so I did buy one bottle of lemon lime. I'm very sorry Gatorade, but it was gross. It tastes like medicine. I could barely choke down one sip. It also has a lot of calories. When I added it all up, the total amount of calorie intake from the whole 3 part system was more calories than I would burn in my average 3 mile run.
So, despite a great advertising campaign, I cannot endorse this new Gatorade system. If you run a half or a full marathon, or you are a HARD CORE athlete, this might be a good system for you. Well, if you can choke down the Recovery drink. Myself, I'm sticking with a banana, G2, and a small glass of skim chocolate milk. Have you SEEN those chocolate milk commercials????
On the flip side, if I don't like your commercial, you better watch out. Recently a health care corporation in Green Bay was promoting their Birthing Center, using a man as a spokesperson. I didn't get it at all. What does a man know about a place to give birth? How does he know what a woman needs to feel comfortable while she pushes another human through her birth canal? He wasn't a doctor or anything. . . . . just a man. . . . promoting a birthing center. I see he is now starring in their cardiac care commercials. If I ever see him in the birthing center again, his next stop might be the trauma unit.
So what does this have to do with my running blog? A lot. As I've mentioned, many times, I love Gatorade. I have a blueberry-pomegranite G2 in the fridge right now as my reward for running later today. YAY! The new Gatorade ads are very exciting. If you haven't seen them or missed my blog last week, they are promoting a new three step fueling system for athletes. As a loyal Gatorade drinker and commercial watcher, I found it important for me to run out and try this system immediately.
Step one, check out the packaging. It's cool. Typical Gatorade stuff, the lightening bolt, etc. Very good. Next step, read the label. Uh-oh. Here's where it started to fall apart for me. The gel is basically sugar and vitamin B. I didn't try it or buy it because it costs a lot and has a whole bunch of calories. Part 2 is the Gatorade I know and love. Any flavor, original or G2, they now call it "Performance", meant to rehydrate during activity. The final product, part 3, is "Recovery". It is a thicker, syrupy Gatorade with added protien. Sam wanted to try it, so I did buy one bottle of lemon lime. I'm very sorry Gatorade, but it was gross. It tastes like medicine. I could barely choke down one sip. It also has a lot of calories. When I added it all up, the total amount of calorie intake from the whole 3 part system was more calories than I would burn in my average 3 mile run.
So, despite a great advertising campaign, I cannot endorse this new Gatorade system. If you run a half or a full marathon, or you are a HARD CORE athlete, this might be a good system for you. Well, if you can choke down the Recovery drink. Myself, I'm sticking with a banana, G2, and a small glass of skim chocolate milk. Have you SEEN those chocolate milk commercials????
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