how to run 20 miles while on vacation: city edition

Did you know that running a marathon in January means you have to train through the Christmas holidays?

Did you know that training for a marathon during the holidays leads to limited opportunities for the long runs that one needs in order to get ready for a marathon? 

I should have known. I think I was in denial.

For two Saturdays, I missed my long runs and spent the rest of the week trying to cobble miles together in parking lots, town circles, and neighborhoods while still spending as much time as I could with the people I love.

Eventually though, I had to do something about the 20 miler that was following me around from state to state. 

It's not easy to find somewhere to run 20 miles. Especially when you're not in your usual, familiar running environment. 

I kept pushing it back, hoping that inspiration would strike while I was home in Staten Island, and a 20 mile route would miraculously present itself, like in a dream or a vision. 

It didn't happen. 

I got desperate and posted a whiny status on Facebook, hoping one of the crazy running people I know would be like "I have a route! I'll join you!" 

Nope.

Then it hit me. Inspiration.

I could run to the ferry from my Grandma's house (I estimated it would be about 5 miles), take the ferry to Manhattan, and run along the waterfront on the West Side. I thought this was a brilliant idea. I have always wanted to run that particular route, having walked a large portion of it with my Mom during our city jaunts. 

I had to make a series of promises to my husband, including running with my phone, texts at various points, and using the Road ID app so he could keep tabs on me.  

Nothing could damper my enthusiasm. He could have asked me to hire 2 giant thugs to follow me, secret service style, and I would have agreed.  

I was very excited.

it was very foggy

Even the heavy fog that made every street look like a creepy scene from a horror movie didn't bother me. I bounded my way down to the ferry and took my 5.5 mile smelly body right onto that boat and tried to stand as far away from the other passengers as I could. 

As soon as the boat docked, I was off and running towards Battery Park where I took a very rare selfie of myself. 

 

The miles positively flew by. I was looking around at buildings, people watching, making sure I knew where I was and how to get home. It was lovely.

The Intrepid. It is very big.

At about 12 miles, I turned around and headed back to the ferry terminal. At 34th street, I jumped onto The High Line and ran its length - which was FABULOUS, The High Line is simply one of my most favorite places on Earth and it was a wonderful experience to run it, in the rain at Christmas time. 

I made it back to the ferry, stopped at Starbucks (which I paid for using my Starbucks app - greatest thing ever), and called my husband to come pick me up.

It was one of the best running days I have ever had. 20 mile training run DONE. 

I hate downward facing dog

I hate, loathe, detest (basically any word you can think of that denotes total and utter disgust) the yoga position of downward facing dog.

You see, I have one hand. My forearms are the same length but my right arm stops at my wrist. I don't have a right hand, a palm, or fingers. Basically, it is just bone.

I grew up doing everything everyone else did. I can tie my shoes, do my hair - the list goes on and on. Sure, I could never climb that rope in gym class but really who wants to do that anyway? 

When I started practicing yoga. I never considered that some positions would be difficult. I just started doing it. I use a block for some positions, to give myself more balance and to take some pressure off my right arm but you can't use a block in downward facing dog. 

Hence, the hate.

It's not comfortable. Relying on my upper body, ultimately, my arms and hands, to bear the weight of this body is hard.

A yoga mat only provides so much cushion. Trying to find the sweet spot, where my arm can dig into the mat and not kill me, can be hit or miss. I'm also incredibly stubborn and will stay in that freaking position until the cows come home just to prove that I can do it. I want people to think that I am a cool, capable yogi.  

And because I am concentrating so hard on not giving up - I usually stop breathing. Which if you know anything about yoga is ridiculous because yoga is ALL about breathing.

It becomes a battle of will. Will I give up? Will I wiggle and wiggle until I find that spot where I can hang out until the next movement? Will I breathe? Will I take that time to breathe and be proud of myself for always trying and trying even when it is hard?

Life, recently, has felt like one very long moment in downward facing dog. Uncomfortable, stressful, and raw. I feel vulnerable. I care too much about what other people think. I often forget to breathe.

This past week, I was in downward facing dog and having the usual fight with myself about how much I hate this position and this is so ridiculous and why do I continue to do this to myself and something made me stop. BREATHE LAUREN. Just breathe. And as I took each breath, thinking about only that breath - in, out, in, out - it got easier. Not less uncomfortable - just easier to bear.

So, as the holiday season rolls in, and things get complicated with traveling to 3 different states in 4 weeks with 3 kids, and negotiating expectations and celebrations - I am going to carry that mantra with me. BREATHE LAUREN. Just breathe.          

Book Review: The Gap of Time

I'm terrible at book reviews. Particularly, when it comes to books that I didn't enjoy. A book is a result of someone's hard work. Long hours spent writing and editing. Deleting and starting all over again. Who am I then to read it and say "um. yea. not so much"?

I just finished Jeanette Winterson's The Gap of Time and I am under whelmed. 

On paper, this book seems awesome. It is a retelling of Shakespeare's The Winter Tale, where jealously, paranoia, and heartbreak abound. Pretty much like every Shakespeare play in existence. The thing with Shakespeare, though, is that language and phrasing take so much brain power to compute that it almost hides the absolute insanity of the characters. It somehow becomes less crazy when there are thee's and thou's involved. 

However, when you retell it in modern language the craziness is VERY evident. There is no flowery language to hide behind. The intensity of the characters and their emotions are front and center.  

I find as I get older (and this makes me cringe because I'm only 34) that I'm becoming more and more intolerant of violence, excessive profanity, and the general abuse individuals inflict upon each other. Reading serves as an escape and the mere act of it has a profound effect upon me. If a book is emotionally draining, I feel that. It stays with me and it's hard for me to shake it off. I recently remarked to a friend that I feel as if I'm out of emotional credit. I only have so much to give, worry, and agonize over - I can't spare anymore for the characters in books that I'm struggling to get through. 

I know that this is unfair. And by no means am I advocating that every book be filled with unicorns and glitter. I have a feeling that this is just a phase I am going through because, ultimately, books have the power to stretch you, change how you view things, and teach you something about yourself and the world around you and I need that. We all do.     

Despite my ridiculous hyper-emotional state, this is a very well written book. Winterson gives Shakespeare's characters new breath and seamlessly integrates them into the modern world. Her retelling is engaging and thoughtful. I may not have enjoyed it, but I can see how it might appeal to others. 

disclaimer: while I received this book for free through the Blogging For Books program, all opinions and views expressed are my own.

previous post: maybe that's why I keep doing it

maybe that's why I keep doing it

As part of my application for the 50 States Marathon Club, I need to list the details of the 10 marathons I have run.

Considering I started in 2007, the particulars are a little fuzzy.

Thankfully, there is a website, marathonguide.com, that outshines all websites and contains race results from EVERY marathon from the beginning of time. Or at least from 2000 - which is super helpful for a forgetful Nelly like me.

As I was searching through the results last night, cutting and pasting each race, it was a little surreal.

On paper, its just a bunch of numbers; date, time, place. But to me, each one was experience and the memories came flooding back: the wall I hit at mile 18 during the Flying Pig when I was sure I was going to die. Crossing the finish line at the New York City Marathon and sobbing hysterically. Signing up for the Richmond Marathon two days after running New York and swearing that I would NEVER run another marathon again. Running the Knoxville Marathon and momentarily contemplating cutting the course so that the misery would end. Convincing my running partner to run her first marathon and then crossing that finish line with her at the Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville, Alabama. Begging everyone that loves me to help me take care of my life (ie: packet pick up, babysitting) so that I could get to the starting line of the Pittsburgh Marathon. Running loop after hilly loop in West Virginia among the beautiful changing leaves. And then number 10: the Carolina Marathon: the first marathon my husband and I actually ran at the same time. Not together mind you, but at the same time.    

Running a marathon is life changing. It only takes one to join the club. You can legitimately include it in your obituary. Life seems different after you run 26.2 miles. You learn that you are far more capable then you could ever have imagined. More able to push past the doubts and do something amazing. Running 10 just compounds it. It makes me feel like a freaking super hero.    

Maybe that's why I keeping doing it.

previous post: Race Report: Carolina Marathon

Race Report: Carolina Marathon

Well, I did it.

10 Marathons. 10 States.

I can officially apply for the 50 States Marathon Club.

like woah.

It went off without a hitch. Everyone slept the night before. No one got sick. The weather was PERFECT.

The course starts in downtown Greenville, S.C. and winds its way into Cleveland Park and the Swamp Rabbit Trail. This trail, also known as the SRT, is one of the coolest things about Greenville. It is a paved path that travels all over the city. It is popular with runners, walkers, and cyclists. It is free from traffic and in most cases surrounded by trees, leaving you with this wonderful "I love nature!" feeling.

The majority of the race is run on this trail so course support was minimal. However, the volunteers and the supporters that were out there were very encouraging. There were adequate water stops but definitely lacking in the porta potty department. There was one bathroom on the beautiful campus at Furman University. It was clean, and there were no lines so that was a win.

My running partner and I chatted, enjoyed our surroundings, and marveled about how good we felt. Then, of course, my body decided that it was no longer a fan of this let's run two marathons in 1 month thing, and decided to rebel. I developed this knot in my right shoulder that made it hard to turn my head. Then the muscle in my right thigh that I strained during my last marathon decided it had had enough. Annoyingly enough, its a muscle that's part of the let's help your leg lift and move you forward team. I wasn't going to quit. Or give in. So I just kept moving. I had to keep moving.

Crossing that finish line was like that last bite of the most perfect piece of chocolate cake. It was fullfilling. Satisfying. but I'm done. Well, at least until January when I run the Mississippi Blues Marathon. But then after that I'm taking a break from full marathons. I think I might chase after a half marathon PR :)

previous post: podcast drama

podcast drama

I have a new obsession.

podcasts.

I know I'm a few years late to the party but I'm ALL in. 

It started this summer when, overwhelmed by things out of my control, I started walking. Around the block, around the neighborhood, with the kids, and by myself. Getting outside; physically and metaphorically moving away from my anxiety was HUGE for me. Listening to someone yammer in my ears about inane things was HUGE for me.

Right now, I have 7 podcasts I'm hanging out with. I'm pretty fond of most of them.

but here's my issue.

The running community is GINORMOUS. Everybody and their mom runs. Where are the running podcasts?

To be fair, I've only listened to three, with another one recently subscribed to, but so far I'm unimpressed. 

I feel like they are a little preachy and elitist. Here's what you should you do to be awesome. and fast. This person is barely running at all, only 40-50 miles a week (I actually deleted that particular episode when I heard that - I just couldn't deal). This person runs an a 50k, breaks a rib, and then a few weeks later attempts a 100 miler (HA! HA! This is all very normal. Nothing to see here). 

I tend to feel deflated after listening to these podcasts. At times, I have even snorted out loud in disbelief. These are not my people. Or at least, I don't feel like they're my people. I am an average runner, not an elite. My runs, in general, are slower then I would like and there is a definite ebb and flow that controls my running, whether I like it or not. I'm left feeling like the 20-30 miles I put in every week mean nothing.  

I would love to hear stories about everyday runners, the runners I interact with on Twitter and Facebook. Men and women who run to find themselves. Who run to beat cancer. Who run for those who can't. The runners who run because they need to. These are my people. 

So, because I'm aware that I need to get over myself, I'm trying to hold on. To give these podcasts a chance because I could probably learn something.

I can't promise you I'm going to stop rolling my eyes though.

previous post: post marathon update   

post marathon update

This morning I ran for the first time since the hills decimated my thighs during Sunday's marathon.

I'm terrible about post race recovery. No ice baths. I take the hottest shower I can stand. I eat what I want and never drink enough fluids. I did wear my compression socks for the rest of the day though so I'm not a complete and total failure.

This time around recovery was a little slower then normal. Monday was rough. Everything was sore and my inner right thigh actually hurt. I was in this weird fog all day. Tuesday was a little better and I survived a walking field trip to the Post Office with my daughter's preK class. Yesterday, we had a dire laundry situation happening so I forced to conquer the basement stairs. I managed to do it without saying "ouch. ouch. ouch" the whole time.

Success.

The first run after a race, especially a marathon, is always a little nerve-wracking. There have been times where I've avoided it like the plague and other times where I can't wait to get back out there. Fortunately, this morning it was the latter.

It was great to be out there with my running partner, shaking out my muscles and moving towards the starting line of the Greenville Marathon, which is in 16 days.

Just writing that makes me laugh.

When I sign up for these races there's this moment of insanity where I think "I CAN DO ANYTHING! HA! HA! HA!". This time around was no different. 2 marathons in 20 days? huh. Sure. Why not?

Despite the exhausting proposition of running another marathon in so few days, I am REALLY excited about Greenville. I'm running it with my running partner who always makes long runs seem easy and Greenville is one of my most favorite cities. As long as the weather is nice it should be an awesome day and if not, well, there's a Starbucks right around the corner from the finish line to make everything better.

previous post: Race Report: Appalachian Series - West Virginia