Not-So-Dreadmill

As much as I dislike running indoors, I must say that using a treadmill for my interval workouts is excellent at forcing me to maintain a specific pace. Yesterday I did four half-mile repeats on the treadmill at my gym. I did each one at a 7:30/mile pace with a quarter-mile rest interval in between at a 12:00/mile pace. Once I jacked the treadmill up to 8.0 mph, I had to keep up or I was going to get into a nasty accident. No chance for slacking! Running at that speed was difficult but not exhausting. Before I knew it the workout was over and it was time for...

...WEIGHT WATCHERS. After last week (and the week before) I was ready to see something different on the scale (or there was going to be A Scene at the meeting). I was rewarded with a one-pound loss. That is not as much as I wanted but at least I went down and not up.

I am back on track for my first mini-goal, which is to get back above 60 lbs lost (2 more lbs to go). Second mini-goal is to weigh 155 lbs (63 lbs lost). Third, 65 lbs lost. Followed by weighing 150 lbs (68 lbs lost). A couple more mini-goals and I will finally be at my final goal of 75 lbs lost, weighing in at 143 lbs. I have to think of it this way, as a series of small steps that accumulate into one big step. Otherwise I get disgruntled, discouraged, unmotivated. "It's too much, I'll never get there! I might as well just eat an entire pizza!"

No. One tiny increment at a time. That's how I got to where I am now in the first place. I haven't lost 58 pounds...I lost one pound 58 times.

GRIPE GRIPE GRIPE

First of all, I don't know what the hell I was thinking, going to run my speed workout on the high school track. What a disaster. There were only about 50 meters that were completely free of ice or snow. Nevertheless, I had run the mile there from home, so I was stuck, and my Weight Watchers meeting started in 45 minutes at the nearby building. Just get it over with, I thought.
Ugh.

My "fast" laps were barely any faster than my recovery laps. I averaged 2:15 per 400 which is a 9:04/mile pace. My recovery laps averaged 11:55. If I wasn't mincing across windswept ice and trying not to fall on my ass or my face I was clomping awkwardly through crusted-over snowdrifts and trying not to turn my ankle by stepping into one of my previous sets of footprints. I couldn't even see where the edge of the track was and found myself running on the football field one time. My feet kept slipping and flinging out behind me, which bothers my knees like nothing else. I grimly ticked off each lap, thinking that all the scene needed was a soundtrack: the theme song from Rocky, playing as our hero(ine) slogs onward through frigid gales (it was quite windy out there), alone on a snow- and ice-covered track, stumbling, fumbling, but never. giving. up!

Yeah, whatever. The best part about this particular workout was when it was over.

Oh, and as if I haven't already said this, I AM SO SICK OF WINTERRRRRRRRR!!!

Secondly, if I wasn't already irritated with my run today, I had even more grim news at Weight Watchers. I gained for the second week in a row, which, combined with last week's debacle, has put me 5.4 lbs over where I was 2 weeks ago. Goddammit all to hell. I was doing so well. I don't know what the fuck happened. I tracked my Points all week, didn't overeat, had my usual foods for breakfast and lunch, and made sensible dinners from my WW cookbooks. I even made a smart choice when I went out to lunch at Panera Bread on Saturday. Instead of my faaaaaavorite sandwiches, both of which are hugely Points-heavy (one is 16 and the other 23 Points), I chose to get the low-fat black bean soup (2.5 Points) and half of the smoked turkey breast sandwich on whole wheat bread (4.5 Points). For a restaurant meal, 7 Points is outstanding. I even had water instead of soda.

Doing the right thing does not appear to have made a whit of difference. I still gained 2.4 lbs.

Sigh. I really need to refocus. I am DETERMINED (just like it says on the back of my Marine Corps Historic Half shirt) to lose 75 lbs. Absolutely determined. It's going to happen. It WILL happen.

Something New and Delicious

Last week I read something in a book that immediately made me sit up and take notice. Una buona forchetta, I read. "A good fork." A person who loves food. A person who loves to cook and eat. Despite what you may have read on this blog, I still love to eat. I love cooking. I love taking a disparate collection of ingredients and creating something wonderful from them with my hands. Thus it is I have started another blog, a blog devoted to cooking and food. Accordingly, I have dubbed it Una Buona Forchetta. I don't know how often I shall update it, but I cook from scratch almost every night. Not every meal is a masterpiece, however. I confess I do my share of "just cut this up and throw it in a pot" cooking. Either way, if you're a foodie, please visit my food blog!

Baked Chicken and Rice

This is one of my favorite one-dish dinners. This version is perfect for 2 (I halved it from the original Real Simple recipe).

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup long-grain white rice
  
• 1 cup canned diced tomatoes (I prefer no-salt-added brands)
• 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
  
• 1/4 cup orange juice
• 1/2 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
• 1/2 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/4 tsp ground cumin
• 3/4 tsp kosher salt
• 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 2 boneless/skinless chicken breasts

Heat oven to 400° F.

In a large bowl, combine the rice, tomatoes and their juices, broth, orange juice, parsley, onion, garlic, cumin, salt, and black pepper. Transfer mixture to a square glass baking dish. Rinse the chicken and pat dry. Nestle the chicken pieces among the rice mixture. Bake until the chicken is cooked through and rice is tender, about 40 minutes. Remove from oven. Let stand for 5 minutes. Spoon the rice and chicken into individual bowls.

CALORIES 140(2% from fat); FAT 23g (sat 0g); SUGAR 4g; PROTEIN 4g; CHOLESTEROL 0mg; SODIUM 763mg; FIBER 2g; CARBOHYDRATE 28g (approximate Weight Watchers Points per serving: 4)

Once again, I like to use brown rice in place of white rice whenever possible. For this recipe I get a pot of brown rice going while I prep everything else; then, when the brown rice has precooked for about 20-25 minutes, I drain it and add it to the tomato-onion mixture and proceed as written. I also flip the chicken breasts over about halfway through baking and give the rice mixture a stir to ensure even cooking.

NASCAR Takes a Back Seat to Running

The last time my love of both running and NASCAR collided it was not such a good day for NASCAR (the August race was rain-postponed and we didn't even go) but a very good day for running. Yesterday afternoon my worlds collided again.

Sunday morning I awoke to pouring rain. This did not bode well for my scheduled 6-mile run. I decided to put it off until the afternoon, or, failing that, Monday. Instead, we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of whole-wheat pancakes, bacon, and coffee, followed by one of my biweekly megashopping trips to the grocery store. I do not have to step foot in the grocery store for two weeks at least. We got sandwiches from Mike's Deli, put some beer in the kitchen fridge for easy access, and settled in to watch the 50th Daytona 500. For the not-NASCAR-savvy, that's the first race of the NASCAR season, and unlike every other sport imaginable, it's this race-- the first event of the season and not the last-- that is the biggest and most prestigious, the one every driver yearns to win. It's been a long three months since the 2007 season ended (and Jimmie Johnson won his second consecutive Nextel (now Sprint) Cup Championship!) and both John and I were ready for our normal Sunday afternoons of NASCAR and beer to resume.

Around 4:00 I noticed that the intermittent sprinkling had stopped and the clouds were breaking up. Soon, actual sunlight was glaring off of the TV screen. I finally said, "I think I'm going for a run."

John said: "In the middle of NASCAR? Are you crazy?"

"The weather is the nicest it's been in weeks and the sun is shining and I'm sitting here doing nothing! I have to get out there and take advantage of it."

So I did. I donned my running clothes, strapped on my Garmin, tucked my iPod into my back pocket, and hit the road. It was a near-balmy 40 degrees and the sun (the sun!) was shining. I decided to do this loop for a change in scenery as I have been confined to the residential areas of Chelsea for weeks. Cavanaugh Lake Rd was very pleasant. Conway Rd, not so much. Several storms' worth of snow had accumulated and been packed down into ice which covered the entire road surface. After slipping along the margin of the road for a while I decided I had had quite enough and I found a tiny mostly ice-free zone in the middle of the road and that's where I ran. Right down the middle of the road. I checked over my shoulder every so often to make sure a car wasn't coming up behind me. Fortunately, no cars passed me for the entire mile I was on that road. Once I hit Bush Rd, which is paved, I was very glad. Now I had something else to worry about: more rain. An ominous cloud had drifted over the sun and as I worked my way east on Bush Rd the first raindrops started to fall. Unsure of how serious this rainfall was going to be, I quickened my pace, hoping that if I couldn't outrun the slow-moving cloud, I could at least get home faster and spend less time being rained on. By the time I hit Sibley Rd, the final push back into town, I was flying. I was also getting very wet. I had pulled my sleeve over my Garmin to protect it but the rest of me was rapidly getting soaked. When I reached Main St and was forced back onto the semi-cleared sidewalks, the cloud had mostly moved on and the rain had tapered off. I backed off on my pace and concentrated on mincing my way around ice patches and puddles. (Not well enough, though; I stepped squarely into a large, deep puddle and promptly got two soaking-wet, icy cold feet as mt reward.) I was in the homestretch now anyway; I could use the remaining distance as a cooldown. This plan worked until I was around 5.5 miles and I felt that uncomfortable yet familiar rumble in my gut. There went my nice, easy cooldown. However, I was determined not to cut my run short; I was going to make the 6 miles, runner's trots or not. I made it to 6 miles and even more (though I was scurrying quite fast for the final quarter-mile!). Final stats: 6.3 miles, 58:36, 9:18/mile average pace.

My Garmin reported that after three leisurely miles at 9:30, 9:41, and 10:19 (that was icy Conway Rd), I ran mile 4 in 8:49 and mile 5 in 8:19. 8:19! I knew I had been moving fast but that was a surprise. I definitely had not felt as if I was running a sub-8:30 pace. I had felt superb, actually. Breathing under control, stride steady, arms loose, everything working as it should. It was a nice feeling.

I had been gone for just under an hour, and the race was still on when I got home. I changed into clean clothes and watched the final 50 laps of the race, which Ryan Newman won by slipping past Tony Stewart on the last lap. I kind of wish Tony had won because then he would have cut his heinously long hair. He's rocking a mullet that rivals Billy Ray Cyrus's in his heyday.

Of course more snow is forecast for this week, which means I will most likely be driven indoors again. I can't take much more of this winter shit. For one glorious slightly damp hour yesterday I experienced running as it should be: outdoors, on the open road, with the sun on my face. The promise of more days like that will have to propel me through the last grim weeks of winter.

I Knew It!

The 5K I recently ran, the one I whined about here, was in fact longer than 5K! I was out last night with the Wednesday evening group, and I was wearing the hat I won at the Super 5K. Victor (a Running Fit employee and organizer of the Wednesday group runs) asked me what I thought of the race. I said, "Well, I think it was too long." He said, "It was too long."

AHA! I knew there was something to the fact that my Garmin 305 had measured the race distance as 3.21 miles. My Garmin may not be pinpoint accurate to the foot, but an extra .11 mile is a heck of an error.

I also mentioned how I thought it was odd that the race was chip-timed but there was a timing mat at the finish only. Victor agreed.

I feel somewhat vindicated.

Tackle the Tower Stairclimb

This weekend I am visiting my parents in my hometown near Cleveland, Ohio, in order to attend my sister-in-law's baby shower. Being the Obsessed Runner that I am, I always check a race calendar to see if there is anything going on in the area every time I come down here. At Thanksgiving I ran a Turkey Trot race with my dad. This time, however, there were no road races going on. I did see this "Tackle the Tower" thing that sounded interesting, so I registered. It took place at the Galleria at Erieview high-rise in downtown Cleveland. 37 flights of stairs for 646 total steps.

I drove downtown by myself; my parents live only 25 miles away from Cleveland. I stood around for a while until it was time to line up; participants were staggered 10 seconds apart and were ordered numerically. My start time was just after 10:13 am. I was #380. At the bottom of the stairs, a race volunteer with a stopwatch stayed me until it was time for me to head up; with a simple "Three..two...one...go!" he lifted his hand from my shoulder and I was off. I went up the first five or so flights with a perky spring in my step. Then my thighs started aching. My heart rate shot up. I started breathing extremely hard and fast. By the eighth floor I was plodding. I couldn't believe how fast I had deteriorated. And I still had 29 flights to go!

I trudged onward. Eventually I started trotting up the steps again. My heart rate wasn't coming down at all and I was breathing just as hard when I walked as when I trotted, so I figured, why not just trot? It will make this torture end sooner. The flights were laid out in three segments: a stretch of seven steps, a small landing, a second stretch of three steps, another small landing, and a final stretch of seven steps to the next floor. I would trot up the initial stretch, take a walk break on the second, and trot up the steps to the next floor. In this manner I grindingly continued upward. I eventually passed three people who had started just before me. I was passed near the end by someone who had started behind me. I was done. Utterly spent. I trotted the final flight to the 37th floor where someone ripped the tag from my race number and I staggered through the stairwell door onto the top floor of the building. I grabbed a bottle of water and sank down against the wall. I thought running was hard. This was by far harder than almost any physical exercise I have ever done.

Results were posted this afternoon and I finished 14th out of 42 women in my age group with a time of 7:21. Longest, hardest 7 minutes and 21 seconds of my life.

Anyone who wants to really test their mettle should do a stairclimb.

Super Bowl 5K Pictures

Since John was not with me at the race on Sunday, I was completely dependent on the race photographer to capture me in pictures during the race. After sifting through hundreds of photos (I really wish they would hire someone who would sort pictures by name and/or bib number) I found a couple of good ones of me. (I'm in the black and red jacket.)

Whew!

I had a real rip-roaring workout this afternoon. I ran to the Chelsea track (thankfully deserted and snow-free) and did four 800 meter repeats at a pace which, for me, can only be described as "blazing." I am now more in awe than ever of people who can sustain such fast paces for long distances. Like marathons.

I did my 800m splits in 3:38, 3:38, 3:44, and 3:43 for an average pace of 7:23/mile. My Garmin claims my maximum speed of 9.0 mph was reached during the third repeat. 9.0 mph is a pace of 6:37/mile. There's no way I could keep that up for more than a brief moment. I've never run that fast of a mile in my entire life (my mile PR is 6:59).

I haven't pushed myself so hard since high school. Man, today's workout was tough. Tough but satisfying. Even though I felt like I was going to fall over at the completion of each interval, when I got done and walked over to my Weight Watchers meeting (conveniently located mere meters away!) I thought, That sure sucked while I was doing it but I feel pretty darn good about myself and my capabilities right now. Then I thought, Oh dear...eventually I will have to do, like, 8 of these...I'd only be half done at this point. Ugh.

Oh well. I do what I must in the name of running a sub-two hour half marathon, right?

In other news, I dropped another 1.4 pounds at WW and am now sitting on 62.2 lbs lost. Yeah! The quest for 75 lbs is still on!

A Couple of Things

Since I sounded like a grumpy whiner in my post from yesterday, here's something with a more positive spin.

One: I finally took my wedding ring to the jewelry store to get resized. I went from a ring size of 8.5 down to a 6, which, in Jewelry World, is apparently a lot. I had been wearing my ring for months with a makeshift temporary spacer thing that was starting to feel more like "permanent" than "temporary." I decided it was time to take the big plunge and get it resized.

Two: This past Saturday marked the one-year-anniversary of the Day My Life Changed (For The Better) Forever. Here's to one full year of health and happiness!

Race Report: Super Bowl 5K

I should be pleased as punch, right? I finished fifth in my age group (out of 45) and won an official event hat. I got two pint glasses. I got a bunch of great stuff for 50% off at the Running Fit store right after the race.

No. NO! I'm pissed as hell. This was supposed to be the race for me, the one where I busted the 25:00 barrier for the first time since I was a senior in high school. I was feeling so fine this morning. I was so ready.

OK. First of all, HOW CAN YOU HAVE A CHIP-TIMED EVENT WITH ONLY ONE TIMING MAT??? I just DON'T GET IT. The only people who are going to have an accurate time are the ones who were standing with their toes on the starting line when the horn sounded. The rest of the pack, shuffling slowly forward, crossed the starting line well after the front-of-the-pack sprinters, adding seconds if not minutes to our times. I shouldn't have put myself so far back in the pack; I spent forever zooming past people in the early stages of the race.

Secondly, and I know this depends on how accurate my Garmin 305 is (and it has shown itself to be pretty darn accurate in the past), THE COURSE WAS NOT A 5K. My Garmin showed the distance to be 3.21 miles.

To give you a sense of how inaccurate it all was, my Garmin showed my first mile split as 8:07, but when I got the "official" time from the race volunteer with a stopwatch he called out 9:00. My second mile split according to my Garmin was 7:42! Third mile split, 8:03. (And never mind that the difference in distance between when my Garmin chirped to signal the completion of another mile and the "official" mile marker kept increasing with each successive mile). I stopped my watch as I crossed the finish line at 25:28. My "official time" for the race was 26:06. HUH? After I ran a 7:42 mile? How is this possible?

So let's see. Splits of 8:07, 7:42, and 8:03 equals 23:52 for three miles. For the remaining distance I was running at a 7:39/mile pace according to my Garmin. One tenth of a mile at that pace would have taken me 45 seconds to complete. 23:52 plus 45 seconds is 24:37. Twenty-FOUR minutes and 37 seconds. Not twenty-SIX minutes, my "official" time, or even the twenty-five minutes my Garmin showed.

Oh, and? Strip mall parking lots? NOT GOOD FOR RACING! This was the screwiest race course I've ever run. All these loops and twists and double-backs and everyone jammed in between rows of cars. It was ridiculous.

Running Fit did such a great job with the Big House Big Heart 5K in September. Chip-timed (with TWO timing mats), dead-on accurate 5K, nice wide open race course. Maybe it was the race management outfit. I don't know. I'm just highly peeved. I ran a 5K in under 25 minutes but it's not official. I can't point to my time in the race results and say, "See! I did it!"

There's a St. Patrick's Day "Shamrocks and Shenanigans" 5K next month in Ann Arbor. Maybe I can redeem myself then.

218.2 - X = 157.4

X = 60.8

Because that's how much weight I've lost. I crossed that 60-pound barrier! Now, on to 65...

In other news, I did my first interval workout today for my first day of half marathon training. Unfortunately I was forced indoors due to rain and had to do it on a treadmill. While not as nice as being outside, the treadmill allowed for a more precise level of control over my pace. I wanted to do each 400m interval at an 8:00/mile pace (7.5 mph) and doing so required no more than pressing a few buttons every couple of minutes. It certainly kept me right on track!

So this is it. I'm off and...running...and on my way to that sub two-hour half. Fredericksburg, Virginia, here I come!

Chelsea Library Best Small Library in America!

I have to give a hearty shout-out of congratulations to the fine people of the Chelsea District Library, who helped make our little library become Library Journal's choice for Best Small Library in America for 2008!

The new CDL opened in the heart of downtown in December 2006 following more than a year of construction. I went to the library during the grand opening celebrations and got my first library card in over 10 years. I can walk to the library from my house, and being able to do so brings back fond memories of my many childhood trips to the library in my hometown in California, when I used my bicycle to get from my house to the library. My bike had a large wire basket on the back and I would routinely return home with 10-15 books crammed into it. One week to 10 days later I would be back at the library, looking for more books to feed my insatiable reading appetite. I learned to read when I was 3 years old and I've never stopped.

Hooray for the Chelsea District Library! I have to give special props to my friend and fellow Smith College alumna Edith B. for being the most awesome youth and teen librarian ever!

Spirit of the Marathon

Last night I met Tina at the Showcase in Ann Arbor for the one-night-only showing (or not-- apparently now there's an encore showing on February 21) of the documentary Spirit of the Marathon.

The theater was packed. I think it was completely sold out. We lucked out with some awesome seats right in the middle not too close and not too far back. During the film, everyone laughed at the same parts (like when one of the first-time marathoners featured in the film reported that some of her friends asked her, "Do you think you're going to win?" when she told them she was going to run the Chicago Marathon). When repeat marathoner Ryan was told he had a serious knee injury and could not continue his training nor compete in the marathon, we groaned right along with him. When elite American runner Deena Kastor talked about her training schedule, there was an audible intake of shocked breath around the room as she said she had run 145 miles for the week. When a totally spent Deena managed to hold off a surging second-place runner to win the 2005 Chicago Marathon, people clapped. When the film ended and the screen darkened before the end credits and music started to roll, the room was completely silent. No one moved or made even the tiniest sound. Then the spell was broken and there was scattered applause as people began shuffling around. For an hour and 45 minutes several hundred like-minded individuals had come together as one to watch human beings push themselves past normal limits of endurance.

I am more excited than ever to run the Detroit Marathon in October. Watching the emotions pouring out of people as they crossed the finish line was overwhelming. I found myself getting a lump in my throat, thinking, That could be me in nine months.

If you can, try to see this film when it's shown again in February. It really is wonderful.

Why Can't I Be Independently Wealthy?

I can think of only one thing right now, as I look out my third-floor office window to the sunny outdoors:

*sigh* "What a beautiful day. I wish I was out there running instead of sitting in here."

59.8

59.8 pounds. That's how much weight I have now lost on Weight Watchers. I was only a lousy 0.2 lbs away from 60 at weigh-in last night. That's 3.2 ounces. 3.2 stupid measly ounces. I was pretty disappointed. I really wanted to hit 60 lbs. Well, you know what? I'll get there next week and there will be much fanfare (and feasting upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats...)

Since our meeting resumed on January 8 (we had two weeks of no meetings for Christmas and New Year's Day) there has been a steady stream of new people at my meeting. The January 8 meeting brought in the biggest influx; the stack of "get started" packets must have been 12 high. I have seen a lot of unfamiliar faces. I have been a part of this group since August 2006 and I recognize all the long-term members. We're a big family. A big family who suddenly gained a lot of long-lost cousins.

I don't think I was as aware in January 2007 (after only four months on WW) as I am in January 2008 of all the new members. Now, I can't help but wonder, how many of these people will I still see in three or four months after their initial 12- or 16-week membership expires? Let's face it, many of them are there as part of a "gotta lose weight this year" New Year's resolution. And we all know how long most of those last.

Losing the weight I have hasn't been easy. It's been really hard, slow, and long. At the end of February I will have been on the program for 18 months. I'd like to say I will be at Goal by then but I really can't be sure. Things happen. Weight is gained, then lost. I've lost almost 60 pounds on the program, but I also gained little increments totaling 42 lbs along the way. (If I had gained 40+ lbs over my highest weight...I'd be pushing 265 lbs by now). I'm just fortunate that my overall loss outweighs my occasional gain. But I can't deny those gains are tremendously frustrating. They can easily derail a person who expects consistent weight loss week after week. I had a gain in my second week on the program! I was terribly disheartened. However, I told myself to tough it out, that this was the first small step of many, and my goal was too important to lose sight of this early.

I wonder if the new people know what a long and hard road it's really going to be for some of them. If I had known when I started WW that almost 18 months later I'd still be trying to get to goal...I might have quit right there. I would like for all of them to stick with the program. There are some folks I've seen in meetings over the last few weeks who really need to be there. I am glad they have at least taken the hardest step of all: the one through the door. The next few months will slowly winnow out the more determined. I hope that some of the new members join our family permanently

Something Good, Something Bad

I saw two stories today that have stuck in my mind. First, the good one:

Marathon runner says she caught suspect after break-in at her Lighthouse Point home

Woman also has karate black belt

Marathon runner chases down would-be burglar
Margo Foster, a marathon runner who holds a black belt in karate, surprised an intruder in her house. The burglar tried to escape out this back door, but Foster chased the man down over seven blocks and held him until police arrived. (Sun-Sentinel/ Michael Stocker / January 21, 2008)

A would-be burglar met his match when he tried to elude Margo Foster, a marathon runner with a black belt in karate who also knows kickboxing and kung fu, police said.

On Friday morning, the 53-year-old Lighthouse Point resident returned home from tennis practice to find an intruder rummaging through her bedroom.

Without thinking twice, she said in an interview, she bolted through the living and dining rooms and followed the startled man out to the backyard. Police said he had one of Foster's backpacks strapped on his shoulders, filled with her property. She wanted it back. A seven-block-long chase had just begun. Lighthouse Point police corroborated Foster's version of events, and without endorsing her gutsy conduct, said she had evidently been up to the challenge.

"Luckily, it turned out OK," said police Commander Mike Oh, a spokesman for the Lighthouse Point department.

As related by Foster, the intruder began to climb the 6-foot-high wooden fence in the yard, when she "grabbed him by the neck, ripped him off the fence.. threw him to the ground, and put my knee to his chest."

The two struggled for a few minutes, Foster in her white tennis skirt, before the burglar dropped the bag and started running again.

"Go ahead and run," the former yacht detailer said she yelled. "You're not going to get away from me. I've been running for 40 years."

Police said the burglar headed north on Lighthouse Drive into the city of Deerfield Beach and then turned right on Southeast 14th Street, before he got tired and started walking. Foster followed behind and flagged down a motorist, who called police.

"I outran the kid," said Foster. "He had no cardiovascular system."

Gregory St. Germain, 24, was arrested by Lighthouse Point police and charged with burglary to an occupied dwelling, battery, possession of stolen property and grand theft. Police said Foster recovered all her property, including what Foster said was a gold identification bracelet given to her as a teenager by a boyfriend as a Christmas present. "He almost got away with the most sentimental thing I've kept for years," she said.

Oh, the Lighthouse Point police spokesman, described Foster's actions as "courageous," but cautioned that burglars are often armed and dangerous. "She's had some advance training and obviously is very physically fit and confident," he said.

Foster said she'd trained for years for such a situation. "I wasn't going to sit back and let something like this happen," she said.

Next, the bad one:

Two-time Grandma's Marathon winner slain in Kenyan violence

BY BRUCE BROTHERS Pioneer Press

Article Last Updated: 01/21/2008 07:07:27 PM CST

Wesly Ngetich crosses the finish line as the first finisher in the 31st annual Grandma's Marathon, Saturday morning, June 16, 2007, in Dulth, Minn. (AP Photo/The Trubune, Derek Montgomery) (AP {SOURCE} DULUTH NEWS TRIBUNE)

Two-time Grandma's Marathon champion Wesly Ngetich was reserved and modest until he pinned a number to his chest.

Then Ngetich, who died during ethnic violence in his homeland of Kenya today, became a tiger.

According to Race Results Weekly, the 5-foot-5 Ngetich was shot in the chest with an arrow during fighting in his hometown of Trans Mara.

Hundreds of Kenyans have been killed in ethnic violence that erupted after the East African country's Dec. 27 presidential election, which opposition leader Raila Odinga accused President Mwai Kibaki of stealing.

"Words cannot express our feelings at this moment," said Scott Keenan, the executive director of Grandma's in Duluth, Minn. "Our sympathies go out to Wesly's family and friends, and our thoughts and prayers will remain with them during this extremely sad and difficult time. We loved having Wesly here at Grandma's, and he enjoyed coming here. It is difficult to imagine that he is gone."

Ngetich, 34, won Grandma's in 2005 and again last June, but it was the 2006 race where he demonstrated his competitive streak. On a hot, humid day, he seized an early lead and pushed the pace before he was finally caught on the course's famous Lemon Drop Hill in Duluth. He ended up sixth.

"Last year, I took the lead early," he said after winning the 2007 race in 2 hours, 15 minutes, 55 seconds. "I just didn't understand how the humidity would have an impact.

"This year, I hung back."

Ngetich recorded his best time of 2:12:10, when he finished second in the 2006 Houston Marathon.

Ngetich was expected to return to Duluth to defend his title this June in an attempt to become the first three-time winner of the event. Four others - Garry Bjorklund, Dick Beardsley, Doug Kurtis and Patrick Maturi - have won the race twice in the event's 31 years.

Ngetich reportedly had planned to run in the Rock 'n' Roll Arizona Marathon in Phoenix on Jan. 13 but could not get out of Kenya because of the violence.

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I hope the other fine athletes of Kenya stay safe. That is a really unfortunate story.

In other news, I was laid low with some unfortunate stomach flu virus over the weekend and haven't run since Friday. I feel great today (finally) and would really like to squeeze in some kind of a run before my Weight Watchers meeting, even with the snowfall we are currently experiencing. Today's weigh-in might be A Really Big One as my scale yesterday afternoon, if it is to be trusted, will have me at 60 pounds lost at the meeting tonight. Finally!

I don't recommend The Stomach Flu Virus Diet as a way to lose weight, however!

UPDATE: Snowstorm over. Sun currently shining (for the next few minutes, anyway...this is Michigan, after all). Outlook for run this afternoon: excellent!

I'm (Quasi) Famous

Late last week I sent Steve Runner of Phedippidations a long, rambly email about "my running story." He saw fit to kindly include me in the runner email segment of the Phedippidations podcast this week. It's "Fdip 131: The Big Boom." You can hear Steve talking about me beginning at 36:46 into the podcast.

It's A Small Runner's World After All

Tuesday evening I was sitting at the bar at the Arbor Brewing Company in downtown Ann Arbor enjoying a pint of Big Ben House Mild. I was waiting for John, who had dropped me off at the ABC before heading down to the South Main and Hill St. area for a band audition. I had been sitting and staring at the back of the bar for about 30 minutes, occasionally checking the door over my shoulder. I heard the door squeak open and looked back to see a couple of guys come in. Immediately I thought, No one wears something like that if they're just out and about. Those guys have to be runners. A further quick assessment: Running shoes...check. Nylon pants and jackets...check. Hats and gloves...check. I turned back to my beer and thought, We runners are everywhere!

Then I heard a voice at my elbow asking if the seat next to me was taken. It was the running guys. I couldn't help myself; I blurted out: "Were you guys just out running?"

One of them said, "Yeah, we were!"

Well, one thing led to another and soon we were yammering away like old pals. I discovered that they had just gone on their first Running Fit 501 training run, that they lived in Dexter, that one of them was an experienced marathoner with 30 races under his belt and the other was training for his first marathon...also that one is a hydrogeologist (yay for geology!) and the other owns a printing company that does all the coursepack printing for a former division of the company I work for now (yay for Company Q!)...

I informed them of the Wednesday evening group run at the Running Fit HQ which they both got very excited about since that location is much closer to Dexter than the downtown Ann Arbor location.

That's another thing I love so much about being a runner...I feel like I'm part of a real community. We love our sport with varying degrees of intensity, we all have different ability levels...but we're all simply runners. We all have that in common. We can talk about races, training, weather, or crazy yappy dogs even if we've only just met. We all have a "how did you get into running?" story. We can cross paths in a bar as total strangers and after 20 minutes part as friends.

I Finally Get It

Something just occurred to me. For my entire life, my dad has been a runner. He started running in the early 1970s before I was even born. He ran a series of marathons in San Francisco in the early 1980s. Incidentally, he is also going to be running in the Marine Corps Historic Half with me.

During the winter, he always went running no matter the weather. My mom's constant refrain as he prepared to head out the door into a blizzard or 10-degree air was, "Bruce, I don't know why you want to go out when it's like this! Please stay in, just this once!" I didn't get it, either. From my warm, comfy perch indoors on the couch, the winter landscape of northeast Ohio was an inhospitable place indeed and only a crazy person would venture out on foot. On purpose. Without driving somewhere, like the mall.

However.

I finally understand what drove him out our front door every single day. He was incapable of sitting idle. He was addicted to running, if such a thing actually psychologically exists. I have been similarly afflicted. I can't not run when I reasonably could go for a run. Like yesterday. Even after going to the grocery store after work and spending what felt like forever putting groceries for the next two weeks away, finishing at 5:00, with snow starting to fall, all I could think was: "I have to go for a run. I have to." I just couldn't say, "It's too late/getting dark/too cold/snowing/rush hour/too slippery to go for a run." The need for physical exertion was too strong. I had to get out there and get my daily fix.

The cold doesn't bother me; I have warm clothes and after a little while I'm generating so much heat I often get uncomfortably warm even when it's 25 degrees outside. Now I know how my dad could go running when it was zero degrees. I'll probably find myself out there, too, at that temperature.

I think the only time he ever stayed in due to weather conditions was in January of 1994 when we had a tremendous cold snap that had us in -20 to -25 degrees F temperatures for several days.

Yeah, that's cold.

But still...with the right gear...

Smoky & Creamy Corn Soup

Yum, can I say, yum! for this one. Also extremely healthy. And very fast and easy. The only prep is cutting up the vegetables; everything else comes from a package.

(From Weight Watchers All-Time Favorites cookbook.)

Ingredients:

• 1 onion, coarsely chopped
• 1 red bell pepper, seeded and coarsely chopped
• 1 celery stalk, coarsely chopped
• 1 16-oz bag frozen yellow corn kernels
• 4 cups vegetable broth
• 1/4-1/2 tsp chipotle chili powder
• 2 tsp olive oil

Heat the olive oil in a nonstick soup pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion, bell pepper, and celery and saute, stirring occasionally, for 8 minutes until the vegetables are slightly browned. Add the corn kernels, 1 cup of vegetable broth, and the chipotle chili powder to taste. Bring to a boil and simmer for 3 minutes. Remove from heat and cool for 5 minutes. Transfer soup mixture in batches to a blender or food processor and purée until smooth. Return soup to original pot, add remaining 3 cups of vegetable broth, and cook over medium-low heat for 10 minutes until heated through. Serves 4 (1 1/2 cup servings).

Now, what I did differently was instead of completely puréeing the entire soup mixture I briefly spun half of it in the blender so that some chunkiness was retained. I like my soups to have some bite, you know? There were still whole corn kernels in it. Then I really puréed the remaining half. I also only added two cups of vegetable broth at the end because the soup looked thin enough already. The chipotle chili powder provides the interesting smoky flavor, but I'm sure regular chili powder would do in a pinch. I was fortunate to find some chipotle powder (McCormick brand) at the grocery store. I also courted kitchen disaster by not letting the soup cool before transferring it to the blender!

Healthy Start Festival of Miles

Saturday morning John and I participated in Running Fit's Healthy Start Festival of Miles, a free-for-all no-pressure event at the University of Michigan's indoor track facility. We arrived around 9:45 and started circling the track. The event was billed as an excuse to run in shorts in the winter. However, I was able to run in shorts outside last Tuesday...

I lost count of how many circuits I made of the 200-meter track and instead decided that because I ran for one hour at a moderate pace with only two brief breaks I probably covered close to 6 miles. John was by my side for most of it but he had to stop after about 3 miles as he was pooped.

I saw a bunch of people I know or at least recognize, including Tina, Victor from the RF store, and some people who were at the Wednesday evening group run last week.

John was hurting yesterday, a pain I know quite well: the aching quads. He's a cyclist and his muscles are used differently for biking. I encouraged him not to give up on running. The hardest part is going out for that second run when your legs feel like they're going to fall off. It was that feeling that made me almost quit cross-country the first week of practice when I was a freshman in high school. I'm glad I stuck with it instead.

Bingo!

Tina got it exactly right; the person I quoted in yesterday's entry is none other than Steve Runner, a self-described "goofball from New England," of the (brilliant) podcast Phedippidations. Fritz made a casual mention of it a few weeks ago and I promptly forgot about it until yesterday, whereupon I subscribed, downloaded about 40 of the 130 episodes, and for the past two days have been listening to nothing but Steve's "rambling diatribes" about running. And let me tell you, folks, if you're a runner you should be listening to this podcast. This is not a suggestion. This is an order. You will not be sorry.

In other news, I did make it to my gym yesterday for some much-needed weightlifting. But I ran there (2 mile round trip).

A Kindred Spirit

A few of you may recognize the man behind the words I am about to quote.

"Well, I've joked with you before that one of the reasons I love to run is because I love to eat pizza. Well, the funny thing about that is that it's not a joke."

"You know, I hope this hasn't happened to you, but about a year after I started running and was in training for my first marathon, someone called me a 'running psycho'. Big deal, right? Of course they were just joking around, they didn't mean it...except that they really did mean it. As my training went forward and my excitement about our sport increased, the label of 'running psycho' became a recurring theme in their attacks."

On the former, I have to say: hear, hear! Life is not worth living without pizza.

On the latter, the label that has been applied to me most often and with increasing frequency is "obsessed." I've heard that from both friends and family. And you know what? It's true, and it doesn't bother me. I want to be an obsessed runner. It's the obsession that keeps me going. If I was not as passionate about, nay, obsessed with running, I wouldn't be doing it. I love doing it. I love it so much that I now listen to a guy I don't even know talk about running and I think, "Oh, man, that is so true! This guy rocks!"

Bonus obsessed-runner points to those of you who know who/what I quoted.

In other news, last night I attended what I hope will be the first of many Wednesday-night group runs out of the Running Fit HQ. I ran five miles, which makes 18 for the week. Today I will spend cross-training at the gym. I need to do some strength training.

I also ordered a RoadID bracelet. I had a RoadID dog-tag necklace years ago but the information on it is totally obsolete. I decided that as I embark on my heavy training schedules this year (first for the half marathon in May and then the Detroit Marathon in October) which will include runs stretching to 20 miles I need to have something on me in case of emergency.

Darn

Yesterday afternoon I had to take advantage of the freakishly warm weather and go for a run. I only had to wear my Nike cropped pants and a Nike Fit Dry shirt. No gloves! No jacket! No heavy pants! It was 64 degrees! In January!! OMGWTFBBQ!!!

I also strapped on my iPod, freshly loaded with music. I hadn't listened to music while running for about four months. What to listen to...what to listen to...I went with the music of my youth, Depeche Mode. Black Celebration, 1987.

I set out. Clear sidewalks, warm temperatures, less clothing, totally rocking tunes. I was on fire! I felt like I had wings on my feet! I was definitely moving at less than 9:00 per mile, but I refrained from peeking at my Garmin because I didn't want to fall into the psychological trap of "this is too fast I have to slow down" when I am physically capable of keeping such a pace. I just decided to run as fast as felt comfortable and hopefully I would have a nice surprise at the end of my run along the lines of "holy crap, I averaged 8:30 per mile on a four-mile run!"

I got a surprise, all right, but not a pleasant one. Closing in on the end of my run I sneaked a quick peek at my Garmin, hoping to catch with my eye only the distance field on the display (I wanted to ensure I ran a full four miles). To my dismay the device had shut down and the screen was blank. It had run out of battery power before I had even run 0.75 mile (the distance it did manage to record was 0.72). I thought I had my music turned up loud enough to drown out the lap alert beeps; I didn't hear them because it wasn't making them at all.

Well, phooey. That left me kind of deflated so for what was left of my run (maybe 0.25 mile) I slowed down and just moseyed along. I hadn't made note of the time when I left the house so I couldn't even see how long my run had taken according to the clock.

The first thing I did when I got home was plug in the Garmin for charging.