Against All Odds: Mixed Up Weekend

Have you ever noticed that Jude Law looks remarkably like Phil Collins? I know, the world is not fair. But, it's a true story.

Jude is on the left. For reals.

 

Ok, so now you want to know why or how we stumbled on pictures of said aging, hair-receding hunk? Well...

It started innocently enough. It always does, doesn't it? It snowballs into surfing the web for aging actors so easily. We were listening to “Riptide” by Vance Joy. The lyrics say: "I swear she's destined for the screen, closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you've ever seen."

That led to Scott to say, “Michelle Pfeiffer.? Was she in Batman? Or wait, was that Kim Basinger?”

To which I replied, “Michelle Pfeiffer was Catwoman. There's no way Kim Basinger was Catwoman. She was...um.,Vicky Vail.” Not sure how he mixed those two up? Hello.

This lead Scott into looking up various 80s stars. At one point, Scott said, “Well, Catherine Zeta-Jones, no one else could come close to her.” I said, “Yep, she has a flawless face.” Then, I remarked, “You know who is truly flawless? Jude Law.”  Nowadays, I guess that makes Phil Collins flawless, too.  "...It's always the same, it's just a shame, that's all."

They ARE like crazy flawless, no?

 Earlier today, we ran 16 miles for our long run. We usually run long on Saturdays, but I felt weary, tired, and worthless, so I talked myself and Scott into saving it for Sunday. When I whispered to Scott at 5:30 am on Saturday morning, “let's run long tomorrow and do a short run later this morning.” Scott said, “Can't. It's against your religion.”

"You're the only one who really knew me at all." Damn, Phil Collins, you got us.

It's true I never like to run long on Sundays. I channel Larry the Cable guy and say let's “Git-R-Done.” On Friday, I had admitted to Scott that I didn't think it was wise to try to run the Hagg Lake 50K. We just didn't have time to train properly for it. We were slated to run 26 miles on Saturday. My plan was to run on Wildwood Trail for 17 miles, then run home from there for the final 9 miles. Thinking about that run was making me feel sick---I knew my body wasn't ready. Sometimes, you have to listen to your body. I could see the relief on Scott's face.

Today, we ran the road section out and back toward the Wildwood Trail. It got colder as we cruised up, up, up Cornell Road. At one point, there was a sign that said, “500 Feet.” Geez, that's nearly the Alps for us Valley Dwellers. Brr. For once, gloves were a good idea.

As we were floating down the hill on Cornell we stopped at a traffic light. I glanced at the car coming to the light to make sure it was going to stop, then proceeded. That's when I felt Scott's arm across my chest, and heard him yell, “DON'T GO!!” Tires were squealing to a stop. I looked up to see a young woman with her hands over her mouth, then my eyes darted to the traffic light to confirm that it was indeed still RED. We were almost run over by an idiot running a red light.

I am usually SO vigilant; I never trust drivers. She came out of nowhere, and I think that's just how it happens. That is how my children would have become orphans. I know, I know...let's not get all crazy with the “what ifs”



The waterfall from the Larry Vincent Bridge.

While running through the rather quaint part of Cedar Hills, we ran by a beautiful waterfall, with a sign telling us it was the “Larry Vincent Bridge.”  Scott commented that Larry Vincent was only 15 years old when he died. Larry died. We nearly died. I was struck by the parallel if only for an instant. We later learned that Larry was an avid runner and loved running in that beautiful area of Cedar Hills. I bet back in 1977 there weren't as many cars and Larry didn't worry about young women running red lights.

 

We mixed it up this weekend...against my religion and against all odds, and stuff. Yesterday, I noticed that my new socks were labeled for RIGHT and LEFT. Nice. Of course, I had them on backwards.

Mixed up my apparently labelled socks.

We ran before lunch on our favie stretch of Fanno Creek Trail with the kids on their bikes. It was so much fun, I suggested we do it for all of our short weekend runs. It's nice cause the kids can carry our HUGE new phones. Less weight=faster, right?

After lunch, we registered for most of the races we will be running for the next 6 months. In 2015 we're mixing it up and running longer races. We AREN'T doing the 10K Series. 2015 will bring a big ole half-marathon at Y2K in January, a trail 25K at Hagg Lake in February (just not ready to run the 50K this year), 30K at Champoeg in March (Scott is running the 10K). Then, we reserved our hotel room for May 30th for the Newport Marathon. Scott hasn't decided if he's running the marathon. I think he will. :) I will probably run around Hagg Lake on the roads, too, on May 2nd for 10.5 miles.

Finally, I'm vying for Scott to run this cool looking 50K up at Point Defiance in Washington in October. What better way to celebrate 15 years of marriage? Have to find some nice family member to watch the kids though because filling up water bottles and leaving out bowls of cereal is looked down upon unless you are leaving a cat for 3 days.  It will work out because I know when I hear Scott singing "Riptide" he's thinking about running 31 miles with me near Puget Sound.

"Lady, running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side
I want to be your left hand man."

Running and Parenting: Perfection, Failure and Finding Peace

Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it.” ~ Salvador Dali

Pretty much.

I'll start this blog entry with a story. Well, this story is 3^rd hand, so of course it's good. What story that's been retold more than once isn't fantastic, right? Ok, so my husband told me that he overheard my children talking to each other while they were in the kitchen making their lunches for the next school day.

As my son grabbed the handle on the refrigerator, he said, “Oh man. I hope Mom cleans this handle soon. It's really gross!”

 

My daughter replied, “Yeah, I know. I think you got peanut butter AND jelly on there this time.”

 

Heck, why not grab a piece of bread to rub on there and call it a sandwich? They want Mom to clean it because well, Mom cleans it. I love my children, but cleaning up after themselves doesn't come naturally. In fact, I think it barely occurs to them most of the time. My daughter likes to tell me that I want their rooms or playroom to be “PERFECT.” Nope. I just want things picked up enough that I don't break my neck on a wayward pencil while trying to let the dog out in the pitch black of the morning. I don't think my demands are unreasonable.

 

Over the years, I have had to let go of the idea of having the space that my kids inhabit clean or even neat. Um, not going to happen. Instead of driving my self insane, I now focus on smaller goals. They need to make their spaces reasonably decent once a week. It's somewhat agreeable for everyone now.

My children in their "natural habitat." The back door is just to the left.

 

 

If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain. ~Maya Angelou

 

We tied a nice red bow on the ORRC 10K Series on Saturday. Yep. It's wrapped, folded and gently stowed until it starts again in January. I haven't quite decided if I will run the Series again next year, but you never know. I love everything about running 6.2 miles. Gimme shoes and a 10K starting line, and I'll say “yes!” every time. I love that race distance almost as much as I love coffee, and that's a love affair that will surely never come to an end. But, I am getting off topic.

 This year I finished the Series this year with a good, hard effort that brought me a new PR (41:51) which I hadn't seen since 2012. We won't talk about the not-so-awesome year that 2013 was, it's gone and dusted. And, like so many things in my life that I can't change, the past is one of them.

 

Finishing the Series made me come back to 2013 but just for a second as I was reflecting on how 2014 has unfolded. The first race of this series was awful. I ran Y2K very poorly for so many reasons: just coming back injury, out of shape, dressed too warmly, and trying to run a pace that was too aggressive given my lack of training. Boo-hoo! It sucked. But, I was determined to change all that.

 

This is how we enjoyed our ice baths this summer.

What did I do? I did a few things to get back to where I wanted to be fitness-wise (at that time I still had the Boston Marathon on the my to-do list). I started training with the ORRC Tuesday Night Workout group running intervals. What a difference! I noticed almost immediately that my fitness improved. I also read, “Racing Weight” and started implementing Matt Fitzgerald's nutritional advice. I focused a lot more on stretching, rolling, ice baths, and even yoga. In short, I started focusing on what I could do to make my running better.

I felt strong and capable for nearly all of the races this year. For 3 of the races, I ran nearly the exact same time within a few seconds. Huh? I guess I am consistent.  

 

Barely holding on: Greenway Trail Trial

Unfortunately, I had a really hard race at the Greenway Trail Trial (GTT). I put a lot of pressure on myself to try for PR, and my fitness wasn't really in the right place. I blew up with about 2 miles to go, and that made the last miles murder on my overextended legs, and torture for what felt like my weak mind. I was bummed since that was my home course. Shoot, I run on that trail at least a couple of times a week. I practically own that trail!! Jogging home that morning, my only consolation was that the course was short (only 5.9miles), so any PR would have been null and void.

About a week later, the fine people from the GTT sent me a plaque that said, “First Place Female.” How sweet of them! I think it's neat that they give out plaques to us amateur athletes. Ribbons are cool, too. But, the plaque didn't really make me feel any better about the crummy race.

You see, getting shiny plaques and colorful ribbons is not why I am out there. I started this journey to get better than the runner I was yesterday. I'm not there to win the race or get in the Top 3, Top 10, or Top 100. To be honest, I never have any expectations going into a race about what place I will take. It's nice to be able to compete and push hard with other people, but I when I'm racing I am thinking about me, not them. I can't control what other people are lining up on race day. I don't know what someone else has for a goal. I only know my goal.

I am seeing this theme more in my parenting life as well. I can't control what other people do or what their motivations are. I would like my kids to CLEAN the PLAYROOM much more often and more thoroughly than they do, but I have given up on trying to make that a priority for me because I can't control what they will (or won't, in this case) do.

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

On Saturday, I was the 5^th place woman overall at the Best Dam Run. I was extraordinarily happy with my time (a PR!!), but also with my effort. I worked as hard as I could. Bad races like the Y2K and GTT are a part of the running landscape. Not ever race will be “amazing” like are you are running through a beautiful rainbow, all the while beating that mean leprechaun to the pot of gold. We've all had failures in life which were necessary in order for us to figure out a better way. I am grateful for the lessons that the bad races have shown me this year. Those poor performances have helped me become a better runner.

Fighting on the hill at The Best Dam Run.

I hope this works at some point for my children. While cleaning up may never be a big priority for them, I know that they have true ambitions that will be hard to attain. When we try hard to achieve something, but we miss the goal, we have to ask ourselves:

• Did I do my best?
• Do I have more to give next time?  
• What would I change to make it better next time?

We will never be perfect. We will fail. It's what we learn and how we move on that counts.

 

 

 

Sometimes Life Imitates Running

“You gave away the things you loved, and one of them was me.” ~Carly Simon

The tears flowed, but I swallowed them back, ran faster and harder. Crap. It was a hard day. I kept thinking about the how my work day had just ended. My boss had called me into her office. She said, “We don't have time to have a meeting...but, it looks like we just don't have a need for all the therapists we have on staff. I don't want to decide who should go, so I am just telling everyone.” She showed me a list of facilities within our area that had open positions. The list wasn't long and all the places were far away. McMinnville, East Portland, Oregon City...they may as well have been on Mars. All I saw was “BFE” in my head. My face was hot from the afternoon sun, but also from the anger in my mind. WTF, change jobs? I turned up my music and tried to forget about my burning face, tired legs, and that stinging feeling of my heart in my throat. Don't. Cry.

 

“Fuck it, fight it. It's all the same.” ~Sublime

At some point during that run, I came to terms with the fact that I would soon be leaving the job and place where I've worked for the last 10 years. Time to move on. Change is scary, new, different, uncomfortable, but at the same time I was excited about the prospect of being somewhere else.

It occurred to me that day that I needed to take action. Sit back and wait to see who she “picks” to leave? Nah. I'll go willingly. I realized that this “issue” at work was the catalyst but I that I was ready for something else.

I may have said this before, but I don't know what people who don't run do to sort out their problems. Running has always helped. As I reflected on the workplace challenges I was facing, I couldn't help but think about the 50K I ran this summer. It was called the SOB 50K. Nice name, huh? It's actually the Siskiyou-Out-and-Back, and it was really freaking hard. A real SOB.

I am not good a giving full “race recaps.” Mostly because I can't remember every minute detail of a race that was a month ago. Instead, we'll just reel the highlights. The race started at about 6200 feet at the Mt. Ashland Ski Area. Oh, right, I live and train at oh, 6000 feet lower than that. No problem, right? For the two days before the race, my family and I had driven up to the start area and ran around. I remember the pain in my diaphragm when I ran for 40 minutes around the mountain trails. My diaphragm hurts?? I tried not to freak out, but cripes, until that moment, I forgot I even had a diaphragm.

Enjoying the pre-race morning.

On race morning, it was a beautiful day. Sunny, cool, clear, slightly crisp. Lovely. Diaphragm felt fine, so I knew I was going make it. I smelled like a mix of bug spray, sunscreen, and peanut butter. I must have had PB on my hands before I rubbed in the sprays. Sexy. The race started on a road, but less than a mile into it we were on the single track trail of the Pacific Crest Trail. I felt trapped. Stuck. SLOW. I told myself it was a good way to start out by not going too fast. 31 miles is long way. Cruising down the awesome PCT about 6 or 7 miles into it, I thought “this downhill is going on forever. It's going to be a real bitch to climb back up at the end.” I'm so smart.

Out on the trail. I'm the girl in the picture. Copyright SOB50K.

I bypassed most of the early aid stations, since I had my hydration pack. I was carrying what felt like 10 pounds of water on my back, so why should I stop? The water was warm, and tasted like chlorine, but so what if I felt like I was drinking out of swimming pool, I didn't have to stop like those other suckers. I had a tough patch coming into the half-way point. My left hip and foot hurt. The trail was slightly slopped so my left leg had to work harder than my right. My left leg is my naughty leg. It's weaker and tighter, but I try not to say mean stuff about it directly in front of it. Anyway, I was looking forward to getting to the half-way point,. I just need to get there, then I will feel better I kept telling myself. I had big plans rest my legs while I enjoyed the comfort of the port-a-potty, grab my iPod from my drop bag, and scarf some plantain chips. Yes, I had so much to look forward to!

Except when I got there, I couldn't find my bag. WTH? Oh jeez, maybe they didn't bring it because I didn't write my name and number on it. Oh well. I didn't really NEED anything from it. I grabbed a few GU's from aid station, and a wonderful volunteer refreshed my electrolyte bottle. Oh, and there were ZERO Potties. That was a bust, but I left there feeling better. The course opened up a bit, and at that point, even though it was less shady, and hot, the course was pretty flat and the view of Mount Shasta was breathtaking. My left leg was instantly better, too.

Not too long after, I saw another pretty teal colored POTTY. But there was a line of people waiting to use it's wonderfulness. I didn't want to wait. Surely, there will be more at some point. The course got back onto the trail, and there were more climbs. I am pretty sure I saw the very top of Mount Ashland. The trail was rocky, some parts scattered with slippery pieces of shale. I had to concentrate really hard on not dying. Seriously. It wasn't hard to imagine catching my toe on a rock, and tumbling off the side. NOPE. Stay positive. Focus, Melissa.

Thumbs up!  Copyright SOB50K

Luckily, the trail changed back to the shady loveliness of the PCT. I had to stop to dump out the baby rocks that had found their ways into my shoes. Funny, they felt much bigger than they looked. That's when I realized I still had to pee. Um, my body wouldn't wait anymore. All the pool water I had consumed needed to exit. Fortunately, dense forests make for decent privacy, not that I cared at this point. I felt bad to have polluted the world with my liquid waste. Human are disgusting.

At the next Aid Station, I realized something important. Turns out, I had incorrectly remembered where they were leaving the drop bags for the 50K. The 50 MILE bags were at mile 15. Idiot. At mile 21, I saw my bag, but I was so mentally and physically tired, I didn't bother getting out my iPod. It's only 9 more miles. I don't need it. Besides after getting off that scary side of Mount Ashland alive, I only wanted to hug my family.

“I ain't wasting time no more, 'cause time goes by like a hurricane.” ~Allman Brother's Band

The last 9 miles were the longest 9 miles of the my life. I was now running UP that part I had so easily cruised down. Everyone was hiking up those exceedingly long hills. I ran when the trail flattened out, but I had to hike most of the steep hills. I could hear my pulse in my ears. I didn't bother trying to find my heart rate, but I knew instinctively that it was too high to try and run.

The last Aid Station was my favorite. A guy dressed as pirate squeezed ice cold water onto my back from a huge sponge. Oh my god, the feeling was almost as good as the ice water I drank from the cups. I felt like I was drinking from the fountain of youth. Instantly, I felt refreshed. Then I ate a handful of potato chips and went on my way. I had been on the trail for 5 hours, and just want to see my family. I knew my daughter , Maya, was going to run the last mile in with me. I couldn't wait to see her sweet face.

And before I knew it, there she was, along with my husband, son and our 12 year-old dog. As she ran along with me, I heard her say, “Good job, Mama, you're almost there.” I got a little choked up. There is something special about hearing your child give you encouragement. The course came back onto pavement. That asphalt was like an old friend, and I ran like I was finishing a 10K all the way to the finish line.

Maya taking me to the finish.

The SOB 50K was a totally different experience than my other (mostly paved) 50K or any of my marathons. I actually stopped at the Aid Stations, ate food and talked to people instead of just choking out a “thank you” and gulping down Gatorade. I walked during the race. I stopped to use the bathroom, and empty out my shoes. It was different, but it was still familiar. Running is running.

I have a feeling that my new job will be similar. Different but familiar. Oh, I should tell you that, yep, I start a new job on September 8^th. I will have the same job title and responsibilities, but at a new facility. All new co-workers, all new physical environment, but the same me. This 50K taught me not to be afraid to take my legs on a new course with a longer distance, and to run at a higher elevation through the mountains. Now, I'm using that strategy in my work-life, too. Don't think about it too much and don't be afraid because in the end you all you have to do is keep on running.

“Put a candle in the window 'cause I feel I've got to move. Though I'm going...going, I'll be coming home soon. Long as I can see the light.” ~Credence Clearwater Revival

Something Different: Racing the 5K

Like most people, I am a creature of habit. I pretty much eat the same things for breakfast and lunch everyday. Mmmm... mixed nuts, grapefruit, plain greek yogurt. I am not averse to trying new grub, it's just easier to go for what's familiar (and doesn't require cooking). Every once and a while, I'll go try something new, like have you had Cuban or Ethiopian food? Um...Yum! Running is the same way. It's easy to get caught up running the same training routes, the same distances, even the same races, but sometimes, you've got to step outside the comfort zone. For me, that meant racing a 5K.

I was listening to podcast from TrailRunner Nation last week (an old May episode). The person they were interviewing was a guy who goes by the nickname, “The Sock-Doc.” Oddly, he didn't ever mention socks, but The Sock-Doc said that people think that running a 5K isn't a big deal anymore. Since nearly everyone and his dog is running a marathon these days, 5K seems like nothing. If you run, you've got to go BIG. And by big, they mean you've got to go FAR. Shoot, people run marathons as their first race. Yikes. Lauren Fleshman wrote an article for Runner's World titled, “10 reasons the 5K is freaking awesome,” arguing that with the marathon, so much of the focus is on “completion, not on competition”, whereas racing a 5K “encourages you to develop a combination of endurance, speed, and strength.”

So what about the 5K as a race? Like any kind of “race,” you can run it so fast you end doubled over grabbing your knees and wanting to pee your pants. Or, you can run chatting with your friend about last night's awesome movie and the new exotic restaurant you tried (perhaps Cuban?). Some people even take selfies.#picswhilerunning. Whatever floats your boat, right? I've seen both sides of this distance in the last few months since I've run three 5Ks since May. Twice I've run with my daughter, and once I tried my hand at racing.

For the last 6 months or so, I've been running weekly intervals with a group. Running with non-relatives was new and different. Tuesday nights with the Oregon Road Runners Club gave me the confidence to set my sights on breaking 20 minutes in the 5K. McMillian's Pace Calculgator helped me zero in on my goals by helping to tell where to shoot for on my intervals. Thanks, Greg—love your book. New, different...Fast. Gulp.

Racing the 5K

How was it? Damn hard. It started and ended HARD. For a second during the race, I thought, “this pace feels pretty good.” Then I looked at my watch and I realized that I had slowed down, “Ahhh no wonder.” I told myself, “it's not supposed to feel good. I am supposed to be pushing the edge the entire time.” My legs begged for me to stop, my lungs burned, but head said, “come on...go faster!” No taking pictures, discussing movies or food. The thought of food was disgusting---even my beloved grapefruit. There is a 30% chance that I may have been able to grunt an utterance, the world will never know. It was all worth it, when I crossed the finish in 19:36. It was well over a minute from my previous PR, and I didn't pee my pants!


What about the flip side? You know, what about those folks running well back from the leaders. Running with my daughter, I found out that, well, they have a good time. Lots of talking, giggling, and even high fives along the way. Many more people in costumes. It's different, but not entirely “easy” for them either. If you pay attention, you'll notice that, at some point, they zero-in, breathe a little harder, and chat much less as the finish looms.

Running a 5K with my daughter, Maya

I am proud of every single person who pins on a number and moves themselves from the big letters of START to FINISH. 5K or 50K...break-neck pace, or loping along...it does NOT matter. Pace is dependent on personal goals and why the person is out there. It's possible to push during ANY distance and the 5K can certainly take your body and mind to the edge if you are willing to go to that edge. Running a marathon is similar---you can coast or struggle, the choice is yours. You decide what is “uncomfortable” when you exit the comfort zone: distance, pace or running dressed as Tinkerbell. In the end, it's worth trying something outside of your comfort zone, whether it's about running or not.  Why not try a new restaurant, a different pair of shoes, or even singing in front of people? 

I've been contemplating racing the mile or even a 1500 on the track. The dreaded oval? Heck, it would be something different for sure.

I'm Not Sure How to Tell My Daughter

I ran a 5K with my daughter last Saturday. It was her very first 5K. My sweet, precious, 9 year-old daughter—so innocent that she hopes that one day she will meet a unicorn in “real life.” I don't have the heart to say any different about her dreams. The race was a called the “RUN with MOM 5K”, and was put on by a local chapter of the Girl Scouts. Even though my lovely daughter loves adventure stories about cats, telling silly jokes, skipping through the grocery store, and was so excited when she figured out how to braid My-Little-Pony's hair--she turned into a fierce competitor on Saturday. Fierce. We reined in the run-too-fast-in-the-beginning-business and she settled into a nice pace. “Don't worry, and relax”, I said, “we'll catch 'em.”

Don't worry. That's something I want to say to her about a lot of things.

But, sometimes, it's something very important that I wish she didn't have to worry about, something that all women worry about, but we shouldn't have to. I want so badly to say, “Don't worry, Honey. No bad men will ever try to hurt you.” But that could turn out to be a lie.

Run with Mom 5K: I'm sure I'm imparting some wisdom

It infuriates me that women are ever afraid. EVER. I saw the look my daughter's face that morning when she was pushing herself to her physical limits. Afraid? Not hardly.

Recently, a few things have happened to me when I was out running which made me feel vulnerable. ME. I'm not used to that feeling, and I don't like it. I've often said that I don't run scared. I refuse to be afraid to go running alone because of the “what ifs.” I need to run early in the morning before every other part of my life needs me---mostly my family and my job. I need to run from my front door on a very tight schedule. These are the needs of many, many other women, and we all have our own schedules and commitments. So, I run alone. A LOT.

That said, I am VERY careful about traffic when I go running. I tell my family where I'm going, and when I'll be back. I carry my phone for long runs when I'm wearing my fuel belt, because I have somewhere to carry it AND because I'm not dumb. A lot can happen in 3 or 4 hours of running. But, for the most part, I run alone. I wear a very stylish bright orange vest because I want to be seen by cars. I listen to podcasts on low volume, so I can hear everything around me. I wear my Road ID bracelet so that in case something happens, EMS can call my husband or my mom.

Last Friday, I set out to run 26 miles. I decided to do my long run on a Friday, so I could run the “RUN with MOM 5K” with my daughter on Saturday. My run had to be before work so I set out at 3:15 am with the hope to be home by 7:15 am, given traffic and restroom stops.

Out on a long stretch near the Tualatin Hills Nature Park, something weird happened. I was about 17 miles into the run, around 5:30 am, when I noticed that a car, a black Subaru Forester, had driven by more than once in different directions. Lost? I didn't think much of it...until, the car was stopped at a small cross street perpendicular to where I was running. The 30-something chubby guy rolled down his window and sneered some comment. I'm not sure what it was, but it wasn't asking for directions and, by the look on his face, it was something crass. He was proud of himself, for sure. Hey, I can read non-verbals. Jerk. He was turning left, and I was going to the right of him. I figured that was the end of it.

I came to a large intersection (4 lane traffic) where I had to wait for the traffic light to change. The Black Forester drove by turning right past me, staring. AGAIN. Asshole. I refused to look, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, but at that point, he had my attention. I watched to see what his next move was going to be, and when I saw him get into the turning lane, I knew I needed to do something. But, what???
 

I remembered that my co-worker told me that she sometimes gets on her phone if she feels threatened. I crossed the street, dug out my phone amongst my smashed raisins, and called my husband. As the phone was ringing, Black Forester Man drove by again (this is the 4^th street that I've been followed onto). I stared right at this dill-hole holding the phone to my ear and miming like I was talking because my husband didn't answer. And, guess, what? I never saw the creep again after that. My husband called me right back, I breathlessly told him the story.

I had POWER when I had my PHONE. Before that, I was like an antelope being stalked by a lion. I can't speculate on the motivation of this person. Trying to scare me? Harass? Bully? Rape? Murder? I doubt those last two, but whatever it was, he wasn't trying to be nice, polite or courteous.


This is what the creep's car looked like.

Here's the thing, though, most of the time I don't carry my phone. If I'm supposed to run 6 miles with 4 being at “near” break-neck speed (aka, race pace). I don't bring anything but my winning personality.

I didn't have my phone a few months ago when I got bad feeling about a guy riding his bike in front of me on Fanno Creek Trail. It was deserted part of the trail and this man was riding WAY too slow and kept looking back at me. Finally, I just stopped running, and gave him a very hard stare as I turned off my watch. I waited a good 2 minutes. He turned a different way, and then I ran the fastest mile ever for a training run. True Story. I was so happy when I saw other people on the trail: an older gentleman, and then a woman pushing a stroller. Humans! Witnesses!  I wanted to badly to yell at that creep, “WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?!? GO AWAY.” But, I knew his behavior was already odd, so why take a chance with someone who might be crazy?

Self-defense experts say to trust your instincts. If you feel like the situation is odd or you get a strange vibe, then do what you can to maneuver yourself out and get somewhere safe. My two situations are the first two that I've had in 5 years of running alone in the same area. You never know when something could happen; women have to be on the defensive ALL the time.

When I got home from my run last Friday, I was very upset about the guy in the Black Forester. Disgusted. That was harassment. And, it wasn't because I was a RUNNER. It was because I was a WOMAN.

I got into my husband's car that morning (we traded since he was getting tires for mine) and the radio was set to one of our local talk stations, KBOO. The show was called, “Positively Revolting” and they were talking about Feminism and Rape Culture. Wow.  Later, I started reading tweets and articles with the hashtag #yesallwomen. Women are harassed, belittled, and made to feel afraid. I was mad about being personally stalked, gawked at, and made to feel vulnerable, but I was livid when I realized how prevalent it is and how much more it happens to other women.

I mean, my life is pretty sheltered. When I move through life, I usually have my kids, or my husband with me. I don't feel threatened at the grocery store, grade school or coffee shop. On the rare occasion that I do go “out,” I'm with my husband, and men don't generally harass or threaten women when they are with other men. My point is that until just recently, I didn't generally have the personal feeling of being harassed by men. And, I'm angry that other women do.

WOMEN SHOULD NOT HAVE TO FEEL AFRAID OF MEN!!!

But, they do. As long as there are men in this world who think they can use their maleness (size, strength, speed...if not that then weapons, drugs) to overpower, then women will need to be defensive. This disgusts and infuriates me. You better believe that I am teaching my children (son and daughter) to respect other beings on this planet--- women, men, animals, plants, insect, fungi—to name a few. It's the Golden Rule people: Treat others as you wish to be treated. It's not a hard concept, but in some ways, our culture has allowed this to be overlooked. We have to step up and refuse to allow this to continue to further generations. If not us, then who?

And, what to tell my daughter? I don't want her to be afraid. I don't want her to set limits on herself because she's afraid. I want her to be the smart, fearless, carefree girl that she is, but somehow I have to tell her that someday she might be targeted or threatened just because she's a woman. It's not fair. It's not right. And, at this point, I'm not sure which would be worse for her. Me telling her that she probably won't ever see a Unicorn, or me telling her that she probably will be harassed because she's a female. I want so badly to say “Don't worry. Relax, just like in running, in the end it will all be just fine."

My Boston Marathon Top 10

I've probably said this before, but I don't like crowds. At all. I don't go to busy places. Like you won't catch me shopping on Black Friday, or squishing between people at the Farmer's Market trying to buy organic kale at noon on a Saturday. Busy Max Train=Nope. Mosh pit? No, Thank You. And, I don't run the Shamrock Run in Portland either because I hate tripping over people, getting boxed in or having strangers touch me. Gross.

But, I was willing to suppress all my neurotic feelings about crowds in order to run the Boston Marathon this year. Why?

Because the Boston Marathon is special. People spend years trying to run a BQ just for the chance to run the oldest marathon in our country. The selection criteria are pretty simple: run a time at or under the qualifying standards (a little stiffer this year with people needing BQ -1:38 in order to run in 2014). Still. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone in order to run THIS race.
 

I haven't run the Boston Marathon before, so I really can't compare this year to any other. Maybe the crowds were bigger. Certainly, the number of runners was bigger. This year, 31,805 people managed to run from Hopkinton to Boylston street. That was about 10,000 more runners than finished in 2012. Of course, 2013 had a low finishing rate, since 5,633 runners were not able to finish due to the bombings near the finish line. Crowds? Yes, Sir. Everywhere.

I won't bore you with a long race report where I hash the marathon mile-by-mile. How about at Top 10 List? We can pretend I'm like a long-winded David Letterman (I do have gapped front teeth, so maybe we're related?).

Here are my Boston Marathon Top 10 Highlights:

1. Fortunately, the night before the race, I read this article about the race course. Maybe it was a bit like cramming for a test the night before, but I prefer to think that waiting until the last minute made certain that the tips were still fresh in my mind. I also didn't want to overwhelm myself with too many statistics. Wait, what was the elevation profile on the first mile out of Hopkinton? Where was I supposed to see the Citgo sign? Instead, I had an overall knowledge of the course, and took heed of the strategy the article outlined for making it through all the rolling ups and downs along the course.
   
   
2. Since the Boston Marathon is so huge, you have to get to the start like 2.5 hours before you actually get to run. There were people everywhere sprawled on Mylar blankets. Had it been warmer, sandy, and had an ocean, it might have looked like a scene from the stacked spots in Venice Beach, CA. The announcer kept saying, “make friends, find a place to relax on the grass.” I was clad in my sweet “Goodwill Sweats”, prepped for the 40-degree weather. The sweatshirt was from UW, so I got asked if I was from Seattle, and some guy wanted to talk about how good the Huskies were at Basketball. UConn? Dunno, peeps, I got it at Goodwill for $4.99. When I wasn't spending time stretching, and soaking up the sun in supine, I spent a good hour and a half (two trips) in line for the potty. Good times.
   

   

   Just like Venice Beach minus the sand and ocean.

    
3. I knew going into the race that the first 4-5 miles were downhill, and I needed to be VERY conservative. Run the pace. Don't let yourself get seduced by how easy it feels going down hill. I reined it in and was really glad I did. It's true that you end up seeing A TON of people on the flats and hills afterward, who were hurting and clearly hating life after they had just dashed speedily down those smooth 5 miles.


4. About mile 7, I realized that I had a blister the size of Connecticut on my right forefoot. It hurt like a Mother Farker! My kids don't like my potty mouth, but dammit. I noticed at some point it didn't really hurt as much, just a little burning, and that's because it had popped. Fantastic. I'm still nursing that bad boy today.
   
   
5. The crowds along the route can be summed up in one word: A-MAZING. I know, I almost made that two words, huh? I've never seen anything like it. The cheers, the signs, the music, the random people with bull horns telling everyone how good we all looked....ALL of that was inspiring and encouraging. The buzz of energy was so thick, you could almost smell it. Or maybe that was the smell of beer and burgers on the BBQ, I get confused. At some point, they were playing YMCA, and I found myself unconsciously raising my arms in the air to make the letters. At some point while climbing the Newton Hills, I found my self singing along with Neil Diamond's, “Sweet Caroline”...“Buhm, buhm, buhm....so good, so good, so good.” I heard myself spew as the music went quiet.
   
   
6. It was starting to get hot out, and about half way, I felt like I had to pee. I had been inhaling water and Gatorade like a whale swallowing krill. I told myself that I could wait 90 minutes to go pee. I hope this doesn't make me incontinent when I'm an old lady. Besides, I noticed there were short lines for the potties. Lines? Nope, not going to stand in a line when I could be running. Run now, pee later. I started getting hot enough to pour water on my head, back, front. I think I looked a little like a nursing mom who forgets about breast pads. No one cared...not a single person.
   
   

   

   Wellesley Scream Tunnel: My girlfriend is in there somewhere. :)



7. About halfway you get to Wellesley College where there are what seems like 1000 women screaming and holding signs offering kisses to all takers. Shoot, why not? So, I just ran over, grabbed a young lovely by the shoulder and kissed her cheek as she did likewise. She even whispered “Good luck!” Simple and sweet, just like pie. That reminds me, she smelled nice, too. I am sure I was impressive with my wet shirt, and frizzy ponytail. Never mind all that. My beloved friend, Esther, who passed in 2001, was an Wellesley College Alum, and I know she would have been proud of me for taking the time to stop here. Miss you, Babe.
   
   
8. You want me to dish about Heartbreak Hill? I knew all about the famed “Newton Hills" from mile 17 to mile 21 after my quick study the night before.  At mile 21, you get to the top of “Heartbreak Hill.” Sigh, I wanted to dash up the hills, but again I listened to the inner voice tell me to stay steady. Heartbreak Hill was long, but not really that steep. When I got to the top, I felt FREE! Hurray. Now, I could just go. My legs were still feeling OK, so I just took off as fast as I could for the finish. The last five miles, I weaved in and out of people like a mugger in New York City.
   

   

   Squeezing through the crowds.

   
   
9. About a mile and a half from the finish, the Allman Brother's Band song, “Melissa” came on my iPod. Odd, I didn't remember putting the song on my Playlist. At this point, I was overcome with emotion. I knew I was going to run a PR. I knew I was almost done running this marathon. I knew I was going see my husband and my mom really, really soon.
   
   
10. I turned onto Boylston Street and I thought, “Jeez, that's a really long way, still. Frack.” Obviously, I ran as fast as I could for that finish line. I finished in 3:26:21---over 4 minutes faster than my previous PR. As I crossed the finish line, I thought about the events that took place in that very spot last year, and how many people were impacted by the inhumanity of two people. Disgusting. But, this race is special. This town is like no other, and the people who live here were more determined than ever to prove that this finish line belongs to the runners, and not to the bombers. Period.
    

    

    Post Race: tired, happy, sweaty.

We came home the next day, and life went back to normal. Work, kids, laundry, making my own lunch---all with a slight limp now thanks to all those ups and downs. Honestly, those hills left my quads on fire and that ginormous blister killed me for days. Yesterday, we got a long slim package from Amazon. It was for my husband, so I had no idea what was in there. My son commented, “Maybe, it's a cane, for you.” How sweet of him to think that.  Little does he know, he'll be helping me into the shower when I really DO need a cane. Tee..hee.

My family understands why I run. Whether they realize it or not, they know that I am a better mom, wife, and person because I can get out there and run. They are very supportive of this sport which, for the most part, is done when I am alone. My mom and husband were great supporters during the marathon, and I couldn't have begun to navigate the crowds, streets, and race events of Boston without them. Bless them both.

Like I said, I don't like crowds. But, this “crowd” was different. Everyone running on April 21st 2014 was coming together for a single purpose: RUN BOSTON and LOVE BOSTON.  I am proud that I survived suppressing all my mob-phobic feelings in order to participate in this race. Thank you, Boston Marathon for testing my limits of endurance, but also for pushing my patience level, the boundary of my inner space bubble and for showing me the true spirit of resilience.

Doing It Together: We're Talking Couples Workouts

“You guys must run together all the time.”

Unfortunately...not.

In the past, it wasn't that we didn't want to run together. We did occasionally get to have a “Running Date Morning”, which follows a “Date Night,” courtesy of the Grandparents.   Our kids are blessed to have kick-ass grandparents.

 

Most of the time, between having to balance kids, all their activities, work, and the seemingly unending mountain of laundry that is our lives, we just never found the time. Generally, we play Tag. One of us goes first, then we Tag at home. Tunnel Tag would have been fun! We should try that. Oh, but we're getting off track.

Have you been hearing lately about “couples workouts?” There are a bunch of videos on Youtube of "Hot Couples Workout" videos, like this AMAZING COUPLE.  Oh, and Pinterest has more stuff, too.

Mmm...yea. We aren't quite like that. Plus, we aren't going so far as to try these sexy and steamy workouts, like the ones you might read about in ladies' magazines.   That just ain't our thing, as in, it ain't happenin', Bro.  But, whatever floats your boat, right?

But, during this last training cycle (Melissa training for the Boston Marathon and Scott training for the Vernonia Half-Marathon), we have scrounged around and found some time to train together, like when the kids search in the dark corners of the house looking for extra money for the ice cream truck.

 

Here's what we've managed to get done as a couple:

• Track interval workouts while the kids play or walk on the track with us.
• Short recovery runs
• P90X Yoga...Namaste.

  

  Reverse Warrior: we should probably be a little lower, but we're runners not yogis.

•  Lifting weights 'near' each other at home

Post workout.  Isn't our son a great photographer?

• Stretching/foam rolling/Prehab Exercises within proximity

How exactly do couples foam roll together??

 

What do you think about couples workouts? Do you have any go-to routines, or do you prefer to workout on your own?

Pool Running, Ice Bath, and a Post-Run Snack

Last week I was talked about my crummy run and how that doesn't really matter that much because I am still living, running and enjoying life. And, those sentiments still ring true. This week, well, things weren't fabulous either. But, in this life we must persevere, no? New season starts, today! 

I made a bad move on Saturday night, and although the same could be said for my moves on the dance floor, this one was worse. I fell down hard on my right knee onto a tile floor. I will spare you the details, but suffice to say that I hurt my knee such that it got all swollen and was hard to bend. No Bueno, folks.

I slogged out 5 miles on Sunday, but it HURT. Dammit, it HURT. I told myself that I had better be able to handle pain and unpleasantness if I am going make it through the 50K Trail Run I have planned this summer. It's a mental trick runners use when they're stupid: run through injury in the name of progress. Anyway, the race is called the SOB 50K, which I think is hilarious, because I'm immature like that. I figured my knee would only hurt for a day or something. So, so naïve, and overly optimistic, as usual.

That bugger hurt so terribly that I couldn't do Yoga on Sunday afternoon. Downward dog was tolerable, but Warrior 1, 2 or any other of those slick Yoga moves were not happening. I was able to do my weight training on Monday, but it still was iffy. On Tuesday, it felt better and I was hopeful that it felt Ok enough for me to do Intervals with ORRC Group on Tuesday Night. NOPE. I ran a slow 5 ½ miles, with it hurting more and more. Wednesday, I did my weight training, but zero running.

ICE, COMPRESSION, ELEVATION, REPEAT.  This did give my knee some relief. Don't worry I Googled, and talked to some peeps at work (I work with a bunch of PT's), and I don't have any symptoms of a ligament tear or anything like that. Just swelling that makes it feel like my Patella is being shoved laterally to the back side of my knee. In case you were wondering, Patellas don't like hanging out in the back of anywhere, they enjoy being front and center. They are like the Kim Kardashian of bones.

Today, I decided to go to the gym and try “Pool Running.” One of my lovely coworkers, Andrea, who used to run quite a bit herself, also suggested I try the Elliptical Jogger. I went over to 24-hour fitness, donned my swimsuit, threw my iPod under a baseball cap and ran in slow motion in the pool for 30 minutes. After 10 minutes, I wanted to get out. I think it was the longest 30 minutes of my life. After I couldn't handle anymore pool running I jumped out, changed clothes and made my way to the Elliptical machines.

Ok. I will freely admit, I've only been on one of those like twice, ever. The first one I got on was really easy, so I cranked up the resistance and incline all the way, but it still was exceedingly easy. I decided it was broken. I found a different brand that looked newer. It gave a me a pretty good workout, though not quite as much as running would have. I have to say I know now why they call it an “Elliptical Jogger”---it's hard to get the machine to truly simulate running, even on the highest level. It was a fairly decent workout, not as much as running but way better than nothing.

How was the knee?? I could still feel a little discomfort, but nothing like before. I decided to go for a couple of miles outside after I left the gym. It was definitely tolerable, but I didn't want to push my luck.  How about some food for all that  torturous pool running and elliptical jogging? 

Good Stuff. I hope Matt Fitzgerald would be proud.

I went home and made myself a yummy snack. I needed a reward. Today, I had: Greek yogurt and peanut butter/almond butter mixed together with honey as the base, then I added grapefruit, chia seeds, toasted coconut, small pieces of dark chocolate, and sprinkle of granola. YUM! After reading, Racing Weight: How to get Lean for Peak Performance, by Matt Fitzgerald, I have found it rather easy to feed my body the fuel it needs with unprocessed, unrefined whole foods. Good stuff.

 

 

Pre-ice bath: I already look cold.

Once my belly was full, I decided to ice my entire lower half in an ICE BATH.  My 8 year-old daughter, Maya, was sweet enough to draw my ice bath for me, and even throw in a gallon of ice cubes from our freezer. As I was resting in the tub, I over heard her buddy ask, “Where's your mom?”. Maya replied, “Oh, she's in the tub...in cold water with real ice cubes in it. She needs to do that when she runs.” Poor kid probably thinks I'm crazy. Don't worry, I know I'm crazy, so it's cool. Oh, I wasn't alone in the tub---I always have a warm beverage on hand, today it was HOT Chai Tea, like so hot that it needed a warning label like McDonald's coffee. Oh, and the dog likes to hang out in there too to keep me company. He might love me more than my husband does.


Tomorrow...I have plans to run.  The knee feels ready.






Have you ever tried pool running?

Do you like the elliptical, or other gym equipment?

Do you have any special yummy snacks for post-workout?

Ever get into an ice bath?

Spring Forward? Yes, yes, I did. Quite literally.

On Wednesday, I had a bit of crummy morning. It started out normal enough:

Step 1: Get up early.

Step 2: Run 10 miles at recovery pace.



 Brooks Transcend: Hot colors make it even more extravagant.

I was pretty excited to be heading out because I had new gear. I LOVE new gear, since I rarely treat myself. I just picked up the Brooks Transcend, a new pair of Brooks for me, actually they're new for everyone since Brooks just launched them. They were pretty expensive...like more than I usually spend for shoes, but I justified it by buying them ON SALE, and getting another pair that I will also use in my shoe rotation at a steep discount. Scott remarked that he thought the Brooks Transcend purchase was “extravagant.” Hey, with the discounts I actually spent less than had I bought 2 of my normal shoes at regular price. Given how cheap I am with most other parts of my life, I guess I get to be extravagant for once.

 

I got up at 4:30am which I've been told my some people is the middle of the night. Actually, it was still technically “night” out with the sky still the color of dark charcoal, and small twinkling stars reminding me that I wasn't alone. I stepped out of my front door adorned in my brand new, shiny Brooks, and I was trying out a new hand-held water bottle from Ultimate Direction. Pretty slick, right? Not ½ mile from my house, I wiped out BIG TIME. I think the bigger bottom on the Transcends caught the edge of one of the uneven sidewalks that are so pervasive in our part of town. Tree City USA, makes for big trees.

It's simple math, I will break it down for you:

Very big trees=ginormous roots=tons of uneven sidewalks

Period. 

This spot where I took a dive has a HUGE Giant Sequoia.  Roots...sidewalks with attitude...you get the drift. It's a beautiful specimen and I've marveled at it for years, but never had I seen it from the underside that close until that moment.  It's really old, too. I think maybe that tree has been here since dinosaurs walked the earth.  I'm not sure since I didn't have time to take a core sample.

It wasn't just the new shoes that made me fall, though. I was distracted, too. My entire consciousness was stuck on some bad news and I couldn't think about anything else. I can count the times I have fallen during a run and 2/4 were from having my mind on something else. As I was flying through the air with my arms outstretched, my new Ultimate Direction water bottle bolted off my my hand and landed lightly in the needles of the Giant Sequoia, and I landed hard mostly on my elbows and chest. “Huh”, I breathed, as the wind was slightly knocked out of me. It took me a second to pull my thoughts together. “Oh. Crap. I need to stop my Garmin.” Ha! Wouldn't that just be the first thing to come to mind?

Happy bubbles in my water bottle...too bad they don't taste happy.

As I assessed my injuries, which were pretty minor (scraped elbows, scratches from fallen branches on both legs, some bruises), I pulled myself together and started off into the darkness again. I was glad it was nothing serious. Later during the run, I found that I couldn't drink from my new super cool water bottle. WTF? To be fair, I didn't read the directions, I mean really, why should a water bottle be so complicated?? I had to stop at large intersection and that's when I discovered not just one, but two problems. I looked down at my Garmin and noticed that it had stopped working, claiming of all things: “DATABASE FULL.” Oh, right, it told me that a few days ago. Dammit. AND, after opening my water bottle to get a drink, I notice that the water was still soapy from when I had tried to wash it out before the run. FRICK!

Could this run have any more problems?

 

And, that's when it really hit me. This was completely nothing, really small potatoes compared to what someone else I know is going through.

Just the night before, I had learned that the brother of a good friend of mine had been diagnosed with cancer. Stage III. He's just a few years younger than me, and he is married with two children very close to the ages of our kids. I couldn't stop thinking about him. My mind was wrapped up with the sad and nearly sickening thoughts of this person, which was the other big reason why I fell down. The thought of what he and his family are going through is just heartbreaking. It can all change so quickly, one second you are living and enjoying life and the next you are told your time is almost up. Just like one second you are quietly running along, and the next you're sprawled out on the sidewalk like a rag doll tossed in the corner by a hurried child. It doesn't take much sometimes to interrupt our lives and remind us how fragile we are.   This quote was on repeat in my head:

As my thoughts rested on this person and his family, I realized that I had so much to be thankful for. So, I'd had a few “issues” during my run. Fell down, Garmin died, and my water bottle refused to work and only offered sudsy water.

 

So what?? A little unpleasantness, a little inconvenience? I realized that I was absolutely blessed to be having these “unpleasant” experiences at all. I was so lucky to be out running, enjoying a beautiful star-filled sky, smelling the first blooming lilacs and hearing the birds starting their early morning songs. Maybe it's a cliché, but I stood in the middle of my kitchen that morning thinking that no matter what happens to us, as long as we are living life, no matter the circumstances, then we are among the fortunate because life is truly a gift.