PLAYOFFS?!

I was pondering how I was going to approach the traditional "end of the year" post. Considering that 2011 wasn't exactly a stellar year for me, I decided to let Jim Mora, former coach of the Indianapolis Colts, do the talking for me.



I remember hearing this rant on the radio in 2001 and laughing my ass off. "Playoffs? Don't talk about playoffs! You kidding me?"

Substitute the word "goals" for "playoffs" and that's how I feel about 2011. Actually...this whole rant describes my year.

"Disgraceful performance."

"In my opinion, that sucked."

"Holy crap, I don't know who the hell we think we are."

"Unbelievable."

"Pitiful. Absolutely pitiful to perform like that."

Yep, that was my year. Pitiful. I didn't do one damn thing worth mentioning except blowing out my right calf in the middle of the Cleveland Half Marathon, after which I ran 7 more miles to finish the race. The best part about that debacle was seeing Red about 2 miles from the finish.

I'll say it again: I love, love, love this picture.

My injury in May set up the rest of the year: three months of physical therapy followed by a very careful return to running. I ran my first full mile at the end of August and I can now run about four miles at once. My formerly-shredded calf is holding up well. No twinges at all.

I got my act together after skipping last year and sent out a holiday card to my friends and family:

This, of course, is a picture from my AWESOME FANTASTIC AMAZING vacation to the Pacific Northwest with the Engineer back in September. This particular picture was taken a few miles from the ruins of Mt. St. Helens. For a geologist, this is one of those "must-visit" locations.

You can see logs lying flat on the ground behind me, indicating the direction of the blast which raked the landscape. The mountain itself, about three miles away, is missing its northern flank, because it blew off and slid into Spirit Lake. A blistering pyroclastic flow spread through the forest, flattening and burning everything in its path. Ash and pumice rained down everywhere. And yet, you can see that the landscape is green after 30 years of healing. Nature is attempting to right itself.

I picked up a few pieces of pumice as souvenirs; I kept several and gave one choice chunk to my nephew. I explained what it was and where it came from (in terms a 3-year-old could understand). Last weekend my brother informed me my nephew would not sleep without his pumice. I replied, "I rule." I think my brother has seen through my nefarious plan to turn my nephew into a geology nerd...

Thursday Thoughts: So Long, Old Friends

Brooks Adrenaline 9: March 2010-December 2011

These are the shoes I wore when I ran the Boston Marathon in April 2010. I also wore them for the Thunder Road Marathon a year ago. In January of this year I got a new pair of Adrenaline 10s because these, my fourth pair of Adrenaline 9s, were completely wasted. Once my new shoes went into rotation, these became my hashing and yard work shoes. They served me well through the spring, summer and into the fall, getting nastier and dirtier all the while. One particular hash was especially brutal from a mud perspective; afterward, I knew the shoes' days were numbered as I didn't even want to put them on my feet anymore. I got my newest pair of shoes in mid-November, which pushed my Adrenaline 10s into the dirty work position...and pushed my cherished Boston shoes into obsolescence.

I should have thrown them away long ago, but I couldn't. These shoes crossed the starting line of the Boston Marathon in Hopkinton and 26 miles later ran down Boylston Street to the finish. My Boston journey from qualification to finishing the race will likely be the pinnacle of my running career, as I don't see myself becoming fast enough to requalify for a long time. Maybe ever. My first Boston could be my only Boston. These shoes were there, man! I can't get rid of them!

Except...despite my propensity for allowing piles of paper to accumulate all over the place (I call it my "Pile Problem") I am not a hoarder. I don't have a problem throwing things away even when they have sentimental value. Worn-out dirty shoes, even if they trod the Boston Marathon course, are still just worn-out dirty shoes. Thus, this morning I carried them downstairs, flipped open the trash can lid, and dumped them inside. I admit I felt a tiny pang of sadness as they fell in with yesterday's coffee grounds and an empty tomato container. Farewell, faithful shoes.*sniffle*

Our shared moment of glory: the finish of the Boston Marathon.

My new pair of shoes are women's Brooks Adrenaline 12s. I wore men's shoes for years because they were roomier than the women's version, and the size I needed in a women's shoe wasn't readily available because I have giant freak feet. However! When I went to Running Fit last month for a new pair of shoes (having decided my old shoes were partly to blame for my aching ankles), they had the 2012 Adrenalines on hand AND THEY HAD A WOMEN'S SIZE 12! I snapped them up immediately and wore them a few days later for the Girls on the Run 5K in Ypsilanti on November 20. Running in them after using my crashed-out, washed-up Adrenaline 10s was like...puffy clouds! drifting raft! feather bed! A THOUSAND COMFY CHAIRS!

Side note: does anyone else think the evil chuckling of the Inquisitors in the video sounds exactly like the evil chuckling of the pigs from Angry Birds?

In other news, this morning when I got up it was 55 degrees. I took advantage of this by running to the gym (almost 1 mile), working out, and then running home. I was accompanied by light rain; it was not enough to dissuade me from running outdoors. 55 degrees in December in Michigan is rare indeed and must be celebrated, because it surely will not last long! Sure enough, temperatures are going to nosedive over the course of the day until we're back to 25 degrees overnight. Sigh.

Thinking Back

Exactly six months ago today—May 15, 2011—I sustained the worst injury of my running career. My plantaris tendon ruptured and took my medial gastroc and soleus muscles down in flames with it six miles into the Cleveland Half Marathon. If you didn't already know, I finished the race. "Did Not Finish" was not an option.

Mile eleven, in excruciating pain, but so happy I got to see the Redhead!

Following a diagnostic ultrasound in early June, I was ordered into Frankenboot. At least Redhead and I got to be miserable together, though my relationship with the boot was more of a short-term fling while hers was long-term and serious.

It's the fashion statement of the summer! All the cool chicks have one.

I embarked on physical therapy after I was released from Frankenboot purgatory. In mid-August I took my first running steps since the day I was injured three months earlier. I did the Run for the Rolls on August 27 and celebrated running one mile totally pain-free. I finished physical therapy at the end of September, turned loose into a Michigan fall. I have run three races since then: the Big House Big Heart in Ann Arbor, the Parkview Pumpkin Run (Columbia City, Indiana), and just this past weekend, the Ann Arbor Turkey Trot in Dexter. All three were 5Ks. All three exceeded 30 minutes. All three I ran with the Engineer. I'm slower than I have ever been.

The Redhead and I have made a habit over the past six weeks of walking together at a nearby park during the work week. We have watched trees clad in red and gold shed their leaves, gradually snowing in the path with drifts of brown which crunch beneath our feet. The forest unclothed, every twig and branch exposed, the dry and dirty smell of decaying leaves, the squirrels noisily rummaging on the ground, the birds in the bushes, the rumble of the freeway just hidden from view...Our lunchtime strolls at Lillie Park will continue until the weather makes it impossible to be outside. We have been fortunate thus far, but we know that winter is coming. (It snowed last Thursday.) On days when we are unable to meet, I walk by myself on a 2.5-mile loop starting at my office. It's not as pleasant as the trail through Lillie Park—it's primarily on the sidewalk next to a busy road—but it does have its own (albeit brief) woodsy charm.

Cranbrook Park trail, short but scenic

I am climbing out of the deep hole I dug with my weight gain and hiatus from running. I still have a long way to go if I want to have anything close to the speed and stamina (not to mention the physique) I had two years ago. Rejoining Weight Watchers last month was a huge step in the right direction; I have lost 10 lbs of the 50 I hope to lose.

Finally, tomorrow evening I am going to sit in a movie theater for four hours and watch a rebroadcast of a Metropolitan Opera performance from a couple of weeks ago. The opera is one that is very dear to me: Mozart's Don Giovanni, in which I performed in 2008 and from which I can sing three arias. This is one of them.

The Year that Wasn't...Sort Of

This is how I felt at the beginning of 2010:

So full of hope and promise, ready to take off into the bright blue yonder! Wheeee!

By the end of December, this was me:

Out of air, out of gas, out of...ugh.

I ran two marathons, two half marathons, my cumulative mileage was 1,031 and yet I feel like I didn't accomplish anything. I didn't improve my performance at any distance, I gained weight, and my cavalier attitude toward training came back and bit me hard during Thunder Road in December. I limped and coughed my way into the holidays dispirited, demotivated, and bacterially infected. After three years of improvement and lofty goals realized, I suppose I was overdue for an "off" year. No one improves indefinitely.

As far as running goes, I did only one thing in 2010 that truly mattered:

I ran Boston. I RAN BOSTON. I. RAN. BOSTON!

Even if I never set another PR or run another marathon, I will always be a Boston Marathon finisher.

2010 is over. 2011 is here. Clean slate, fresh start. Now what?

I will be in Cleveland in May to see my dad and the Redhead run the marathon. The Redhead is aiming for a BQ, and y'all know how I feel about Cleveland and BQs because that's where I achieved my dream of BQing in 2009. This year, however, I will run the half marathon again. I registered on Friday, and now I have a goal. As much as I have been enjoying the past four weeks of directionless living, I need something to work toward. I'm hitting the reset button on running and starting over. I'm going back to a low-key training plan, my spreadsheet tacked to the wall in the closet, up and running when I'm supposed to. No more slacking off.

The best non-running-related highlight of the year was my vacation with my mom to Cape Cod in July. Seven days of reading, drinking, running, and sunning. If only life could be like this all the time.

One of those moments where I wouldn't have changed a single thing. Perfection. (Except maybe to have some fried clams at hand.) 

Enough moaning about what's over and done with. It's time to look ahead. Twenty-eleven, here I come!

I Want to See Other Races

Look, marathon, it's not you, it's me. I've just...well, maybe it is you. We've been together for a little over two years, and we had some really awesome times together (remember New York '09?) but lately I've been feeling like you don't really appreciate me. You haven't been very nice to me lately. I think...I want to take a break and see other distances. I'm sorry. I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve and that's not good for either of us. I'm not ruling out getting back together in the future, but right now I need some space to think about things and figure out what I really want from a relationship with you.

There's a hot little half marathon I want to date for a while, and some 10Ks hovering on the sidelines as well. Yeah, there are a lot of races competing for my attention, but you'll always have a special place in my heart, marathon.

----------------------------------------------------------------

So, yeah. I'm breaking up with the marathon for an indeterminate amount of time. I've completed five of them, and I've come to the realization that running that far...

...basically sucks. Even when I'm in peak physical condition (Cleveland '09) it still sucks. Since I'm not a fan of purposely inflicting pain on myself, I've decided not to do it again for a good long while. Yes, I want to run Chicago, and I'd like to run NYC again, and I dream about completing all of the "big five" marathons (I need Chicago, London, and Berlin, having already done Boston and NYC), but I believe 2011 is going to be a marathon-free year.

I'm going to concentrate on:

1. Losing weight
2. Getting a little bit of my speed back
3. Running and racing for fun with friends and family

I know I will be back in Cleveland for the half marathon in May, but that's the only race I am positive I will be doing. Other possibilities include the Martian Half (April) and a half marathon in Ft. Wayne in September. There is also the usual slew of local 5Ks and 10Ks that I have been doing every year (Shamrocks & Shenanigans, Dexter-Ann Arbor Run). I will have plenty to do, and the prospect of spending the year free of a rigid training schedule is enough to make me feel giddy. The thought of not having to get up early on a Saturday to run 14 or 16 miles in frigid weather...? DO YOU KNOW HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME?

------------------------------------------------------------------

My toe.

It is fucked up. I didn't say much else about it in my race report, but after peeling off my sock and peering at the digit, I realized something very bad had occurred. It's been 10 days since the race and it's not any better. I believe the nail is ingrown, it's infected, and still oozing a clear substance. It's extremely painful and makes walking difficult. I messed with it a little bit (poked it with a needle, peeled off some skin) which probably didn't help. I need medical assistance, but I will have to wait until next week after I return from Ohio.

Stupid toe.

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Alarming things you do not want to have happen in the middle of the night: being woken up by a loud, strange noise coming from one's toilet. It sounded like my toilet was about to erupt. I was too scared to lift the tank lid to see what was happening so I just turned off the water valve. It wasn't until I got up for work at 7:00 that I learned Chelsea had experienced a major water main break around 1:00 am, which sent a half million gallons of water into the woods on the east side of town. The break was repaired, but my pipes are full of air (hence the bubbling toilet and spitting faucets). We're under a boil water advisory for at least the rest of today. I have to go home and run my faucets to get rid of the rest of the air and restore the water pressure. What a hassle.

In other news: today is my last day of work for six days! I won't be back in Cube World until Tuesday the 28th!

I probably won't find anything to write about before Christmas, so have a great holiday weekend, everyone!

Thursday Thoughts: Three, Two, One...

Three...

Days until the Grand Rapids Half Marathon, where I will be running with my Dad, the Redhead, and the Engineer while Spike runs the full marathon. Truthfully, if I was running the full on Sunday like I planned...I'd be crapping my pants right about now with fear. I'm so glad I only have to run 13 miles. 13 miles is nothing.

Two...

Years since I ran my first marathon, Detroit. At this time two years ago I was an excited, nervous wreck with an ice bag strapped to my ankle because I was desperately trying to get rid of a mysterious ankle ache that had been plaguing me for days.

One...

(plus approximately seven) Hours until I get to see Sufjan Stevens LIVE IN CONCERT TONIGHT.

It's all good, folks.

Obligatory End Of Decade Post (One Week Late)

This is how I started the decade:

March 2000, on vacation in California, with my uncle's late beloved cat A.C. I was in my final semester of graduate school and I was 26 years old.

This is how I ended it:

At the Eve on the Ave 5K in Jackson, Michigan, December 31, 2009.

The "aughts" were the years I finally left the safe, nurturing, insular world of academia and entered the cold, cruel world of Real Life. The decade in a nutshell:

• 2000: got my master's degree in geology from the University of Michigan; took my last cross-country drive from Michigan to California
• 2001: started my first post-higher education job; met and moved in with my eventual husband
• 2002: went to Ireland for a week; bought my house; quit my job
• 2003: found my current job; started taking voice lessons
• 2004: got married in Hawaii
• 2005: performed with Michigan Opera Theater in Puccini's La Boheme
• 2006: went to Hawaii again; joined Weight Watchers
• 2007: had the surgery which changed my life for the better; started running in earnest; ran my first half marathon
• 2008: performed with Arbor Opera Theater in Mozart's Don Giovanni; ran my first marathon
• 2009: major domestic reorganization (aka divorce); qualified for Boston Marathon

A year ago I laid out my goals for 2009:

• Qualify for the 2010 Boston Marathon at the Cleveland Marathon in May (success!)
  
• Run a sub-1:50 half marathon (success! not once but twice!)
  
• Run a sub-50:00 10K (success! again, not once but twice!)
  
• Set another new 5K PR (success!)
  
• OR break 22:00 in a 5K (fail!)
  
• Run 1500 miles for the year (fail!)
  
• Run at least one race each month (fail!)

I posted a 4/7 success rate (57.1%) which is worse than 2008's goal success rate (87.5%) but I achieved my biggest goal of the year, which was to BQ in Cleveland. I ran 1237 miles, which is 93 miles less than I ran in 2008. However, I decreased my average pace by 13 seconds to 8:58/mile. I also spent 183 hours and 9 minutes on the road and burned 136,864 calories.

My "one race a month" goal was toast in January when I came down with the flu the final weekend of the month, a weekend which I had planned to run a race. However, I did my best to make up for it the rest of the year. I missed September because I completely blanked and let the month slip past, although if I really wanted to I could categorize my run across the Mackinac Bridge on Labor Day as my race for the month because it was an organized group event even if it was not technically a "race."

Notable moments and races of 2009:

• January: went to Washington to attend presidential inauguration, only to be felled by the stomach flu
  
• February: ran the Super 5K; sidelined for three weeks due to IT band syndrome
• March: ran the Shamrocks and Shenanigans 5K
  
• April: ran the Martian Half Marathon and set a new PR; ran Fit 5K and set a new PR; saw Andrew Bird in concert
• May: Qualified for the Boston Marathon; ran the Dexter-Ann Arbor 10K and set a new PR; domestic reorganization complete; saw Animal Collective in concert (easily my favorite concert of the past several years)
  
• June: ran my first trail race, the Flirt with Dirt 5K; went to Vermont and participated in the Green Mountain Relay
  
• July: ran my first cross-country race in 18 years, the Lyn Yarows Memorial 5K; also ran the excellently-named Homer Hogstravaganza Road Hog 5K (and injured myself in the process); saw Neko Case in concert
• August: went to California for the vacation of a lifetime; ran the Race Thru the Redwoods 10K; ran the Run for the Rolls 1-Mile and set a new PR; saw Great Lake Swimmers in concert
• September: participated in the Labor Day Mackinac Bridge Run as a Fitness Ambassador; saw Sufjan Stevens and Grizzly Bear in concert
• October: ran the Wild Life Half Marathon and set a new PR; saw Andrew Bird in concert (again)
• November: ran the New York City Marathon; saw Neko Case in concert (again)
• December: ran the Run Like The Dickens 5K and the Eve on the Ave 5K

I don't really know what I would like to accomplish in 2010. The past year was one of great personal strife and triumph, and I do not know how I could better it. Yes, I will run the Boston Marathon in April. That race is my only goal at the moment. I would like to do well there. Ideally I would love to re-qualify, but I recognize that may be difficult. I have some modest goals in mind for 2010:

• run 1500 miles
• run a race every month!
  
• reach my Weight Watchers goal weight and become a Lifetime member

And you know what? That's all. That's all I would like to accomplish. I realize that breaking 22:00 in a 5K or 45:00 in a 10K may not be within my reach anymore. I have to accept that I'm getting older and slower.

But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try.

Looking Forward, Looking Back

A year ago I wrote this as my list of goals for 2008. I had an 87.5% success rate, achieving 7 of the 8 goals I set for myself:

• Run half marathon in under 2 hours (SUCCESS)
  
• Run a 7:00 mile (SUCCESS)
  
• Run a sub-25:00 5K (SUCCESS)
  
• Get a new 5K PR (SUCCESS)
  
• Run a 10K race (SUCCESS)
  
• Run the Detroit Marathon! (SUCCESS)
  
• Reach my Weight Watchers goal weight (FAIL)
  
• Run as much as humanly possible without injury (SUCCESS...sort of)
  

I feel pretty good about all of this (with the exception of not reaching my Weight Watchers goal weight, but at least I can say I weigh the same as I did a year ago. I'm doing a fabulous job of maintaining the weight I don't want!).

What else did I manage to do this year?

• Ran six 5K races, taking home age group awards in four of them and setting new personal records twice (Shamrocks and Shenanigans in March; A Most Amazing Race in June)
  
• Ran two 10K races, setting a PR at the Dexter-Ann Arbor 10K in June
• Ran the Marine Corps Historic Half with my dad, which was a great experience
  
• Took first place female in the Run for the Rolls, which may be the only time that ever happens, and set a new mile PR as well (6:48)
• Ran 1330.3 total miles, which took 203 hours, 9 minutes, and 36 seconds (average pace: 9:11/mile) and burned 157,983 total calories
  
• Met a few of my fellow run-bloggers in real life (I'm still waiting to meet certain of the rest of y'all)
  
• Made the great leap into the 35-39 age group (does this mean I'm officially in my mid-thirties? that's only a stone's throw away from...FORTY)
  

In 2009, I hope to:

• Qualify for the 2010 Boston Marathon at the Cleveland Marathon in May
• Run a sub-1:50 half marathon
• Run a sub-50:00 10K
• Set another new 5K PR (less than 22:44)
• OR break 22:00 in a 5K (this would be decidedly the more awesome of the two)
  
• Run 1500 miles for the year
• Run at least one race each month
  

I turned in just over 5 miles this morning as my last run of the year, a run through freshly-fallen snow and occasional swirling flurries mixed with bright sunshine. Fleet Foxes' "White Winter Hymnal" came on my iPod as I traversed a stretch of sidewalk with my shadow on the snow in front of me. It was a fitting way to wrap up the year.

In 11 days I launch my training for Cleveland. My nearly three months of the Do Whatever I Feel Like "plan" are almost over. It's time to get down to business. The business of BQ.

Happy New Year, everyone!

I shall conclude with my favorite photos of the past year.

During the Meteor 10K (April)

My Dad and I after the Marine Corps Historic Half (May)

Finishing the Dexter-Ann Arbor 10K in 50:00 (new PR) (June)

Hill work in Dexter with the RF501 Gang (July)

With my plaque for winning the women's Run For The Rolls 1-mile (August)

During my first 20-mile run (September)

Finishing the Detroit Marathon in 3:52:01 (October)

In my Obsessed Runner "costume" on Halloween (October)

And one which has not yet been seen: At the Chelsea/Dexter RF501 end-of-season party. I won a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon (aka "PBR," aka "Pretty Bad Refreshment") in a random drawing. Victor traded me for a bottle of Unibroue Maudite for the remainder of the sixer at the conclusion of the evening. I think I got the better end of that deal.

Past Lives

Viper recently re-revealed he used to be a hockey player (and then upbraided his readership by chiding us for not remembering this tidbit of personal information).

Which got me thinking. Many of us have long-buried talents, childhood aspirations, lost dreams. For most of my life I wanted to be an artist. Instead, when I reached college I became a geologist. Art faded into the background. Then, in the summer of 1996, I went to northwest Wyoming for a month to live at a guest ranch and conduct field work for my undergraduate honors thesis as a participant in a Keck Geology Consortium project. That trip changed my life in many ways. To give you all a hint of just how much, when I die, I want my ashes to be thrown from the bridge over the Sunlight Gorge and into the river below. Sunlight Creek merges with the Clarks Fork River and the Clarks Fork empties into the Bighorn Basin. I did field work from one end of the valley to the other.

The Clarks Fork River valley, my most treasured place in this world. The Clarks Fork River runs through the deep gorge in the right-hand side of the picture; Sunlight Creek runs through the cut visible in the foreground (if you enlarge the picture you can just barely make out the bridge over the gorge on the left. Follow the highway and you'll see it.) They join just out of sight on the other side of that hill.

Towards the end of the project, after I had collected my samples, I accompanied some of my project-mates to their field area as a fun, leisurely activity. With nothing better to do, I found myself drawing in my field notebook. Soon enough my simple sketches had blossomed into art like I hadn't made in years. My field notebook became the one place where my artistic talent, long-unused, could flourish.

The mouth of the Clarks Fork River, Wyoming. A spectacular exposed tilted sequence of Paleozoic strata is visible. That sort of thing is enough to make a geologist squeal with delight.

The same section, viewed from the ground. This picture was aken by John in 1994 during the University of Michigan's summer geology field camp, two years before I made my drawing.

Clarks Fork Canyon, Wyoming, slightly upstream from the previous picture.

The Clarks Fork canyon. I took this picture the day I made my sketch.

I went to western Ireland after graduation in 1997 for five weeks for my geology field camp experience. There were 25 of us living at a educational center in the small village of Clonbur. I learned to drink beer at the pubs in the village, where we would go in the evenings after dinner and homework were complete. Lush Ireland, as far as drawing went, was the opposite of dry, brown, rocky Wyoming. My sketches, though predominantly different shades of green, still brought me pleasure in their creation.

Finny, County Mayo, Ireland.

Lough Corrib, near Clonbur, County Galway, Ireland.

Once my learnin' days were over (I finished my MS in 2000), my drawin' days were too. The last entry in my field book is from May 12, 2000, ending the renaissance of drawing in my life.

Sometimes I think I should have continued with drawing, somehow combining my love of rocks with my love of art. How could I fit opera singing and running in there, too? That would be one wacky career.

(P.S. Ohio State 42, Michigan 7. I knew it was a very, very long shot to hope for a big win to put a shine on this awful season, but it was not meant to be. I will, however, continue in the grand tradition of Clevelanders by saying, "Wait until next year!" Your team won this round, sir...but watch out.)

(P.P.S. For those truly gluttonous for punishment, here's my thesis research from the 1997 Keck Symposium conference volume. Yeah, I was-- and still am-- a total nerd.)

Running Gag Order

Big left this comment on my last post:

I have also officially started my "I only talk about my upcoming marathon" program. Unless you ask a question directly related to work, you will get a marathon answer. Thus far the results have been awesome.

I play a game with myself. It's the How Long Can I Go Without Mentioning Running? OR the Let's See If I Can Refrain From Mentioning Running At All Challenge.

Look, I know perfectly well not everyone (OK, maybe most people) has the slightest interest in hearing about my running adventures. That's part of the price we pay for being Obsessed Runners. We love and embrace our sport; other people (the "unenlightened") just...don't get it. I used to get the same reaction when I got all wound up about rocks and birds (well, let's face it-- I still get wound up about rocks and birds). Sighing, meaningful looks of there she goes again, eye-rolling, et cetera. You all know what I'm talking about. Thus, occasionally I make a (feeble) attempt at keeping the "I ran 20 miles this weekend" and the like (waxing about the loveliness of the latest Sugoi jacket, the stable of Garmin products, some unpleasantess involving one's lower GI tract) out of conversation, because, really, once you drop that bombshell on someone whose contribution to the Monday-morning "so, how was your weekend?" ritual at work was "sit on the couch and watch football," well, it's like hearing the proverbial record needle scratch and cricket chirp chorus as your listener tries to process the words "ran," "twenty," and "miles" which all appeared in the same sentence and were uttered by a person who looks not only well-rested but excited to have accomplished such a feat. And then you continue with a "...and not only that but I did it at an 8:38 average pace which is, you know, only one second slower than the pace I need to BQ and..."

...you see the person's eyes glaze over again, because for most people the letters "BQ" are missing a "B" and "BQ" must be some kind of truncated version of "BBQ" for the ultralazy ("BarbeQue," perhaps) but you barely notice, you're on a roll, going on and on about tapering, and carb-loading, and the merits of the various flavors of Gu (Chocolate Outrage all the way, babies) or the various options for midrace refueling in general, and what start corral you've put yourself in, but that was when you registered for the race (24 hours after registration opened in April, hooray for restraint, eh?) and back then you had no clue so you took a wild guess and entered "4:30" but now that's been thrown out the window because you so totally rocked your 20-mile run at an 8:38 pace...

...and, yeah.

Yeah, so. Uh...what did you do this weekend besides watch football?

Anyway, I'm trying, I'm really trying not to completely overwhelm non-running friends, family, and co-workers with all this running blather. It's desperately difficult, however, especially with the marathon so close at hand.

I should just succumb to the inevitable and adopt Big's "all marathon all the time" plan. It would make things so much easier.

High School Flashback!

In my life as a runner there was a Phase I. This was my high school cross-country career. I ran varsity cross-country for four years and was the captain of the team my senior year. We won our conference championship twice, a district championship once, and a lot of invitationals. 1988-1991 were good years to be on the cross-country team. Edited to add: Some of you might think I kept running once my high school glory days were finished. This is not so. Once I crossed the finish line in my last race the fall of my senior year, I am sad to say that was pretty much it for me and running for the next 15 years. Oh, sure, occasionally I would make a few half-hearted efforts to get back into it, and I usually went running every summer when we went on family vacations to Lake Winnepesaukee, New Hampshire (there are a lot worse places to run, trust me) but I was in no way a serious or even casual runner. I didn't have 1% of the dedication to the sport that I do now. Phase II of My Life As A Runner began in October 2006 when I ran that first awful half-mile on the treadmill at the gym.

And the rest, my friends, is history.

Recently I was doing some reorganizing and came across a bunch of pictures from my high school years.

You are all about to discover why I wear those headbands every single time I run. The years have not done much to soothe the savage hair. I have a white chick 'fro.

Exhibit A of why I love Bondi Bands. Also, pre-braces removal so circa 1988, my freshman year.

Exhibit B of headband necessity. Of course I also had a perm (it was 1988...everyone had a perm) which didn't help matters.

One of my first-ever races. I remember I almost barfed at the end.

Ohio High School Athletics Association District Meet, October 1988. This is probably my all-time favorite running picture of myself. I ran a 24:13 and set a new PR at this meet.

Look at me, the skinny minnie.

The team after winning our first OSHAA District Championship, October 1989 (sophomore year). West Geauga RULES!

Be Careful Out There

Sunday evening, two female Ann Arbor joggers were the victims of assault and attempted kidnapping. This was big-font front-page news in yesterday's paper.

Don't think the possibility of this happening to me hasn't crossed my mind from time to time. I spend a lot of time running on deserted country roads or when there is little to no light. I tense up every time a vehicle slows down beside me. I'd like to think I could fight off an attacker or sprint away given my superior fitness ("See if you can catch me NOW, fuckhead!") but if someone is truly determined I might not have a chance. Neither of these women were prepared; they were taken totally by surprise.

It saddens me that I have to think of every suspicious vehicle with a lone man behind the wheel as a potential threat, but there it is. I know there are a lot more good people in the world than bad, but there's no way to tell the difference. The person who stops and asks for directions because he's lost might be the one who pulls a gun on me and orders me into his vehicle. I know men aren't excluded from becoming victims of violence, but we women have to be so much more alert and careful.

I think it's time I got myself a wee little canister of pepper spray.

Oh, And By The Way...

Lest ye think that my last post was really about the worst of the not-so-great ideas I have had (and I alluded to this briefly in said post) this was to be my backup post:

I wouldn't say it was my best idea, deciding to run a marathon...what has it gotten me so far? Let's see. This morning I was out the door at 5:44 am BEFORE THE BIRDS OF THE DAWN WERE EVEN CHIRPING, OK? The stoplight was still on FLASH FLASH FLASH mode. I was staring eight miles in the face in fucking 80% humidity and it was dark and I was terribly CRABBY after having gotten like three hours of sleep because I was tending to a dog who spent most of the night BARFING for no reason I could discern and it was so HOT in my house despite the A/C being cranked on full blast and I know my cat loves me but jeez he can get kind of hot and scratchy lying against my arm all night like that and my left calf muscle was bothering me and my right tibia is STILL not 100% with the goddamn program and I have ten more weeks of these Wednesday-Thursday eight mile runs at the hairy ass crack of dawn and I'm hungry all the time and I ran fucking 33 miles or something last week and that's just the beginning and I feel SLOW and FAT and LAZY and do I really? REALLY? have almost three more months of this before it's all finally fucking over and let's just say I've had myself one powerful gin smash at this time (and maybe more, who knows, or perhaps I might bust out the wine). And now I need to go shopping for goat cheese for my roasted beet salad which I am making for myself for dinner. Because my business wasn't colorful enough already, you know? There's nothing like turning the toilet bowl water magenta like Easter egg dye! Fun, fun, fun!

Yes, deciding to train for a marathon...well...I'm starting to wonder. Is it really that important to be one of that mythical "one tenth of one percent" of people on this earth who complete a marathon? My last post was all about trying to stand out, to be special, and failing miserably. Do you think I can finally do so with this endeavor? Is it worth it? IS IT?

OK. Goat cheese and soy milk time.

Revisit

Friday morning I sacrificed about a half cup of my precious blood in the name of science. I got paid $20 for the privilege of allowing my blood to be used in a genetics study. I was (as I suspect I will be for most studies) a normal control, the "healthy volunteer." It was a nice way to make some extra cash. I'm holding out hope that I may get involved some kind of megabucks-paying exercise physiology study. I'd love to have my VO2 max calculated, to run on a treadmill for a while with things beeping and spitting out numbers all over the place. A girl can dream.

So there I was back at the U of M hospital for the first time since I had surgery lo those many months ago. The day I met with my surgeon, a visit which ended with a blizzard of paperwork and endless long trips up and down the hallways from one department to another because I was going to have surgery in two weeks, was one of the great days of my life. I wandered from lab to lab in a daze, a fog of disbelief and extreme happiness because it was finally happening, I can't believe this is actually happening, I'm having surgery, I'm having surgery, I'm going to finally get well, oh my God, I'm finally going to be well.

Three hours in the bowels of the U of M hospital and I went home with a giant wad of papers and instructions and forms and a bag containing a box with a concoction called HalfLytely, the consumption thereof being one of the most unpleasant experiences ever.

What a difference 15 months makes...now I was at the hospital so they could pay me, not the other way around, and how often does that happen? I am in fabulous condition, 40 pounds lighter than I was on the day of surgery, infinitely happier and healthier.

In other news, I had a superb training run on Sunday, during which I ran at or below my target half marathon pace (9:09) for each mile and averaged 8:59 for the 11-mile distance. This bodes extremely well for my sub-2:00 goal at the Marine Corps Historic Half, which is coming up in TWO WEEKS! I can't believe it! 14 weeks of training down, just a shade less than 2 to go.

I am already thinking about doing the Dexter-Ann Arbor Run two weeks later. I don't know which distance I would like to do: 10K or half marathon. If through some catastrophe I do not achieve my goal at the Marine Corps half (urgh) I would like to attempt to do so at the Dexter-Ann Arbor Run.

Be Careful What You Wish For...You Just Might Get It

It seems that spring has, at last, finally sprung in Michigan.

Of course now I all but guaranteed we will have one more blast of winter weather by saying that, didn't it?

I have whined and complained and bitched about the way winter seemed to be dragging on...and on...and on...around here. I yearned for longer days, warmer temperatures, sidewalks that were free of snow.

Now I have all three of those things, except they aren't turning out to be as all-encompassingly fantastic as I thought they would be. OK, the longer days thing pretty much rocks. I can go out for a run at 6:30 pm, finish at 8:00 pm, and it's still light out. Furthermore, I am about to flip my schedule and start running in the early mornings again now that it's semi-light at 6:00 am.

However. Warmer temperatures means I am sweating more. And for me, "more" means "getting drenched." I sweat a lot. That old trying-to-be-funny saying about how "women don't sweat, they glow" does not apply to me. I don't glow. Or glisten. I look like someone threw a bucket of water on me. It was so nice over the winter when I didn't come back with my hair all matted down, huge sweat bibs on the fronts and backs of my shirts, and eyes red and stinging from sweat trickling into them.

I am enjoying the fact that all I need to go running now is a pair of shorts and a tank top instead of ten layers and multiple accessories, though. And whoa, folks, let me just say that proper running shorts and short-sleeved and tank tops are so much nicer to run in than cotton T-shirts and my old gym shorts. I feel so sleek and speedy in my new gear. Additionally, I can coordinate my outfits with one of my thirteen Bondi Band headbands. I am ready for any fashion situation! When you look good, you feel good, you know.

But. Warmer weather also means that the snow cover is gone and the temperature is above freezing most of the time. Thus, all of the roadkill that was sacrificed to the car gods over the winter and mercifully lay frozen for months has now thawed. I like to run in the country as much as possible. The country contains many ditches and such where roadkill landed. Said roadkill is now becoming...awfully fragrant. Nothing like the smell of dead deer in the morning! I can only hope that our local crows, vultures, ants and flies do their jobs as Nature's Garbagemen and take care of this problem.

Now, on to our sidewalks. For months I ran in the streets because the sidewalks were a half-shoveled or not-shoveled-at-all nightmare. Now that the sidewalks are clear, I can run freely on them. Except...often I find myself back in the street anyway. Why? Because the sidewalks of my lovely little city are so uneven as to guarantee a faceplant or skinned knees at some point in my future. I have to stare at a spot a few strides ahead of me at all times in order to stay alert for changing topography. This prevents me from taking pleasure in anything else. I love being able to look around at the world while I am out running. However, my world shrinks down to the few feet of sidewalk a short distance in front of me these days. Thus, I often veer into the street to get some relief from staring at the same spot on the sidewalk and to not worry about tripping and crashing to the ground.

Finally, the combination of warm temperatures + clear sidewalks = PEOPLE, PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. I got used to being the only one out and about during the winter (except for fellow obsessed runners; we would always exchange "the nod" if we passed each other while out for a run on a frigid January afternoon). Sometimes I felt as if I was the only one alive in town. The peace and solitude were lovely. Now I have to dodge ambling teenagers, people with dogs, little kids on bikes, enormous sidewalk-gobbling megastrollers, old folks going slowly, and people who walk three abreast and don't even attempt to move when they see me coming.

I wanted spring to come so badly, and now that it's here, I find myself waxing nostalgic for winter. I'm never satisfied, am I?

What Could Have Been

Since I've become an Obsessed Runner(tm), there is rarely a day that goes by that I do not run. Of course, most of my runs take place around the town in which I live. However, when I do travel, I always try to get out and run wherever I may be. So far I have run in such exotic places as Michigan's Thumb and the Cleveland, Ohio area.

Okay, so, maybe I haven't traveled a lot lately.

Instead, I torture myself by thinking about all the places I have been where I could have gone for an awesome run...if I had been a runner at the time:

Hawaii (Big Island, Maui, and Kauai)
Ireland (Western)
The Bahamas
A plethora of places out West
My favorite place in the whole world, the Clarks Fork River Valley, northwest Wyoming
Various national parks
California
Washington, D.C.

Most recently I was in Hawaii (August 2006). I could have run through Kailua-Kona on the very street on which the Ironman Triathlon finishes, for Pete's sake. However, I wasn't a runner at the time. That was still over two months in the future.

I did, however, run on Cape Cod last summer. That, at least, I did not miss out on. I had just started training for my first half marathon and when I went on vacation my long run was four miles. Four miles! Why, these days I'm barely warmed up after four miles.

Luckily...I'm going BACK TO CAPE COD in July of this year, and I will be SURE to put in some quality runs while I am there! In fact, I believe I will be training for the Detroit Marathon by then so I will have plenty to do.

Is it lame that now when I think about going somewhere, I don't think, "Where can we stay," but "I wonder where I can go running?"

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...

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.

Reflecting on 2007...and Goals for 2008

It's the final day of 2007, a year of great change and upheaval for me. One year ago I was at the the midway point of a great downward spiral which would end only when I had surgery in February. I had lost about 20 pounds on Weight Watchers and was managing to run (when I had the energy) maybe twice a week, one or two miles at a time. More than that and the fatigue brought on by persistent anemia would lash out and strike me down. Most of those final gruesome weeks leading up to surgery it was all I could do to make it through the day, lured by the promise of sweet, sweet rest when I got home. Afternoon naps were my lifeblood, considering that my actual blood was leaking out of me faster than it could be replenished.

That is all behind me now, a horrible phase which has thankfully been relegated to memory only. 2007 was the year I was REBORN!

I ran (as best as I can guesstimate, considering my stats are spread out over three different record-keeping places) about 460 miles since May.

I ran one one-mile, six 5Ks, one four-mile, one 5.25-mile and one 13.1 mile race.

My best mile time was 7:48.

My best 5K time was 25:01.

My best (unofficial) 10K time was 54:45.

My half marathon time was 2:07.

I killed off two pairs of running shoes and am now working on my third.

I acquired the greatest piece of electronic wizardry known to man, the Garmin Forerunner 305. They can have my Garmin when they pry it from my cold dead hands (I say the same thing about TiVo).

I lost a further 40 pounds (slight setback over the past week of holiday feasting but I'm back on track now)

I made some excellent new friends who also love to run.

I have annoyed family and friends with endless blather about running.

I learned to love the quiet predawn hours. I also (sort of) learned to love the biting cold.

I learned how to love life again.

For 2008 I want to:

• Run my next half marathon in under 2 hours
• Run a 7:00 mile
• Run a sub-25:00 5K
• Get a new 5K PR (will have to be less than 23:21)
• Run a 10K race
• Run the Detroit Marathon!
• Reach my Weight Watchers goal weight
• Run as much as humanly possible without injury

As for this New Year's Eve, there's a 5K race in downtown Jackson that starts at midnight...

Why?

Why do I run? That is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...wait, that's my high school A.P. English extra-credit assignment come back to haunt me (isn't it strange how something I memorized in 1991 can still be lurking in my mind but I can't even remember to bring in a check to pay my co-worker for the Weight Watchers cookbook she found for me at Sam's Club?).

No, the question is: why run when there are so many things that are so much easier to do?

Why do something that pushes my heart rate past 150 bpm when I can sit on the couch watching TV and expend no energy at all? Why be forced to don three or four layers of clothing, hat, and gloves, when I can be inside wearing jeans and a T-shirt? Why go outside on purpose in a frigid Michigan December when my house is warm and climate-controlled (though some might say that 63 degrees is a bit frosty...hey, natural gas is expensive and that's why God (or Malden Mills) invented synthetic fleece). Conversely, why go outside on purpose in a sweltering Michigan July when my house is cool and climate-controlled? Why sweat profusely when I hate being sweaty above all things and once again, sitting on the couch watching TV does not make me sweaty. Why pound away at my joints when I should be mindful of their aging status and how such pounding will affect me 20, 30 years in the future? Why spend oodles of money on attractive, tempting, soft, warm, fancy, 100% necessary-all-the-time running gear when my wallet can't handle the burden of an expensive passion?

Hold it right there, that's the key. Passion. This is my passion. At this point if I had to stop running it would be like asking me to stop breathing. It's that important, that vital. Running makes me feel alive. I can hear my heartbeats, feel cold air in my lungs, taste the sweat on my lips (damn, there's that sweat again...seriously, people, if you could have seen me after one of my summer runs you might have thought I had had a bucket of water dumped over my head). Oh, and then there's spitting, nose-blowing, phlegm-gargling, runner's trots, callouses, funky toenails, chafing, PVCs, tears pulled from my eyes by a biting headwind, chapped lips, side stitches, cold air-induced spastic coughing (does anyone else get that?), aches, pains, exhaustion. Yes, running certainly makes me feel alive!

But seriously.

I took the easy path through life for a long time. At the end of that road I weighed over 220 pounds and couldn't even go up the stairs in my house without getting winded. The couch was much more appealing than the outdoors. I considered the walk from my car to the front door of my workplace my daily exercise. I was alive, but I wasn't really living. I was just sort of...drifting along.

Running changed that. Running changed everything. Running has helped me shed almost 60 pounds of excess weight. Running has driven me to want to achieve things that were unthinkable a year ago, and, even better, actually do those things (half marathon, anyone? Sub-8:00 miles?). Running a half marathon successfully has made me want to do a full marathon. Running a sub-8:00 mile has made me want to run a sub-7:30 mile. Running has tempered my loathing of being outdoors in cold weather, unto itself a nearly unthinkable achievement. Running lets my mind wander freely onto any subject imaginable, for what else am I going to do for an hour when it's just me, the road, and the occasional bird in the bushes? Running begets running, too; the more I run, the more I find I want to run. I want to run farther, faster, stronger.

Yesterday as I neared the conclusion of my afternoon run, I crossed paths with my next-door neighbor who was out walking her dog. I paused to say hello and she commented that it certainly was cold to be out doing what I was doing. I replied that after nearly four miles, it didn't feel cold at all, I was as warm and toasty as could be and I was also wearing four layers of clothing (I really need to get one extremely warm outer layer, oh, would that be more expensive running gear, perhaps?). We parted ways and I continued onward, cold wind beating against my face. It was a beautiful day to be outside. It was a beautiful day to be alive.