Don't call it a Resolution: Lifting Heavy S*it and taking on "Dry January"

New Year, New You!?!

Does a “New Year” inspire you to set big health goals? Lose weight, workout, eat better, get more sleep?

Yeah, me neither. That's not to say that I don't set goals or commit to changes for the sake of my health or my sanity, but the “NEW YEAR” usually does not inspire me.

Until, maybe now. I guess I am making a liar out of myself. Not the first time.

I was in the Gulfport-Biloxi Airport on December 12th, flying home from the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon, when I picked up a copy Oxygen Magazine. On the plane ride home, I had, like, 5 hours to read it cover to cover. I highly recommend this magazine; it's an awesome source for information about strength training for women! They have great tips regarding workouts, form and even nutrition. I got inspired to start weight-training in earnest again since I had been neglecting it for the most part during the latter part of my marathon training cycle. Bad girl! Please don't tell me you think muscles on women are "unattractive" because, well...that's just dumb.

In the December issue of Oxygen, there was a 3-week “Rock Your Resolution” plan.  I don't do resolutions (or do I??), but the plan looked easy to follow and it got progressively more difficult each week. While I had most the equipment, I had to modify a few things. I told Scott, “we don't have a medicine ball, so I used a 25 lb. plate instead.” He teased, “yeah, that's practically the same thing!” Modifying a workout is my favorite part of working out at home.




 

I started the plan on December 18th (why wait until January 1st?, that's for people following resolutions) which I followed diligently four days a week. This was easier to do because I wasn't running as much. The three weeks ended, which coincided with an increase in running mileage as base training for my next training cycle for the Eugene Marathon.  Eeek. EUGENE MARATHON!!! More on that for another post.



A few of my "sources" for workouts.

I cut back my weights to 3x/week and added in 2x/week of yoga, all with my usual 7x/week running (I run double on Thursday, but take Monday as an absolute rest day). So...what's my goal? Well, obviously I want to add strength but weight-training is so beneficial for injury prevention. I'm all about that!! I also was hoping to lose body fat and gain more lean muscle. For now, I am following along in several different workouts including some videos, magazine workouts, and several circuit training workouts from a coach I had back in 2014. Weight training is so individualized! Looking at one of routines, I remembered that Scott once commented, “Meh, triceps dips don't really do anything.” Bah, after I finish 3 sets x 20 reps my triceps want to yell, “Oh yeah, those are stinking hard! You try lifting this fat ass!"



 There I am! Looking for wine in NYC.

Have you heard about “Dry January? Probably. Duh. Simple premise: You stop drinking for the month. Hmm, sounded like a good deal and an easy commitment to make. By late December, I was feeling sluggish, bloated and WAAAYYY over-indulged from the holidays. I felt like the Staypuft Marshmallow [wo]Man, so I figured what the heck, I'll cut out all those extra calories, too.

 

What did six weeks of weight-training and four weeks of no alcohol bring my body? In terms of weight, I'm down 7lbs, and 4% body fat (according to my bathroom scale, I didn't have some sleek trainer pinch my fat with tongs, I mean “calipers”). I am sleeping better. My skin has been clear and less red. I can sorta see a couple of muscles in my arms (in the right light and after I've been lifting weights, of course). 

Dork City: um, we're posing with our weights.

Now, what's up for February? Besides turning 42 on the 2^nd, I think I am committed to my lifting routine. I hope I will continue to reap the benefits I was working toward: more lean body mass and injury prevention as I age. Aging is inevitable, so why not try to stay strong and healthy? New year...new muscles?? Sounds like a winner.

New Year, New Runner

Happy New Year!

It's that time again where we decide to be awesome, finally, and execute on all the stuff we planned last year. It's also that time when the local gym will be filled with sweaty, well-intentioned initiates with little awareness of fitness etiquette (hint:  the squat rack is not for bicep curls!).

It's no wonder so many people want to start running! Who can fault them? Running is a great way to get fit, enjoy the outdoors, and bore people at parties. Unfortunately, just like the local gym, many people start running only to give up after a month or two.

I know how hard it can be to stick to a running routine. I didn't get serious about running until I was in my early 30s. I got my "cardio" at the gym twice a week, reading a book on the recumbent bike or watching TV on the elliptical. Oh, I would sometimes go out for a run, and even signed up for a race or two. But running was never fun and I never saw any improvements.

I can now safely say that I've made running into a great habit, and it doesn't suck anymore (usually). I hope some of the tips below can help you pick up your own running habit and make the most of your resolution.

1. Slow down

Over the years, I have had a few people tell me that running is just too hard or too painful. For some, it is their knees or feet. For others, it is a matter of distance ("I can only manage a few miles before I have to give up"). One person told me he would never run because he has too many runner friends who have hurt their backs. I politely, if incredulously, suggested that his friends might be doing it wrong.

I can imagine why these people never quite catch the running bug. What if every run was a painful slogfest? Why would you want to make a habit out of something that exhausted you and destroyed your self-esteem? Worse yet, nothing kills a running resolution faster than an injury.

In many cases, I think new runners are trying too hard. If you've never run before or never really had a cardio regimen, you probably have no gauge for how hard to push. All the usual commentators tell you to run at a conversational pace, and I can't disagree.

Another strategy is to run by heart rate. There are a few different heart rate training plans that will help you reign it in (Lydiard, Maffetone, etc.), but you will need a monitor. Melissa and I both use a Scosche Rhythm+ arm band monitor for our easy and long runs. It pairs with most GPS watches and smartphones, and there's no annoying chest strap!

If you're just starting out and running feels like a terrible chore, slow it down. You don't need to prove anything to anyone, so why not try to safely enjoy it?

2. Speed up

I know. I just suggested you should back off, and now I'm recommending that you kick it up? What kind of a guide is this, anyway?

All I really mean is that new runners shouldn't sell themselves short. I have known many runners who have simply decided that they will always be in the back of the pack. They are content to keep that conversational pace on every run, so they never push their bodies.

In my opinion, if you want to truly reap the benefits of running, you should open it up once in a while. Maybe it will be as simple as running a little faster to that next streetlight. Or, maybe you will buckle down and try some hill sprints once a week. If you never try to run fast, you will never know just what you can do.

3. Invest in running shoes

This one is really simple. If your dogs bark every time you hit the streets, or your knees ache the next morning, maybe it's time for some real running shoes. (If other dogs are barking every time you hit the streets, maybe it's time to change your socks.)
.

You don't need to spend a fortune, but if you want to make running a regular thing, you will want something other than cross-trainers or Chucks. Plus, you can set your shiny new running shoes next to your slippers right before bed. The next morning, you may find a little extra motivation to get out the door.

4. Find a friend

If you need some external motivation, or if running is just really boring, consider recruiting a running partner. You don't have to marry the person (no, really), but it's always nice to have a friend with whom you can chat or swap stories on the run. This will help keep the pace conversational and keep you accountable for your mileage.

For maximum benefit, find a really annoying running partner for speed workouts.

"Oh, look at that, the rest interval is over already. My how the time flies!"

5. Find a race

One could write an entire blog entry about the benefits of racing, and one probably will. However, this is not that blog entry. Anyway, for new runners, races are a great way to stay focused and work toward a goal.

You may think that racing is only for competitive runners, and that is true. What you may not realize is that most racers are just competing with themselves. Runners of all abilities and speeds sign up for races so they can test their training and their mettle in a more formal environment.

If you're just starting out, registering for a race is a great way to stay motivated. Once you have spent your hard-earned cash to commit to a date, you will have a focal point for your training. Moreover, race day is just a lot of fun. You get to hang out with dozens, or hundreds, or even thousands of people who are there for the same reason you are. That shared experience may keep you coming back for more.

Check out some of the websites below to find races in your area, or just check with your local search engine:

• Active.com
• Running in the USA
• Race Center (this is mainly geared toward the Northwest US)

If you're not feeling ready to run a race, volunteering can be a very inspirational experience. Race directors always need help with various tasks, like handing water to passing runners, giving out medals at the finish, or helping direct traffic along the course.

If you can find a running club nearby (like the ORRC), reach out and see what kind of help they need.

6. Find a reason

If you want to start running, the most important question is not how or with whom, but why?

If you are reading this blog, you have undoubtedly heard about the benefits of running:  a longer, healthier life; weight loss; strength and mobility. Maybe your coworker can't stop talking about his epic trail race last Sunday, or how she doesn't need caffeine because she went for a run this morning.

Those are all great reasons, and they certainly help keep me going. Still, if you stick with running long enough, you will reach a point where you have to answer to yourself. Why are you out here at 5 a.m., gasping in the freezing air? Why did you think it would be fun to sign up for this half-marathon, when you still have five miles to run and it is surely all uphill? A healthy heart or a flat belly are nice side-effects, but they won't inspire you in the middle of a long run.

For me, I just love those moments when running feels really, really good. Once in a while I have a race where everything feels "on," where I just know I can push the pace and hit a PR. Or maybe it's those mornings where I feel I could just run forever. There's a child-like glee to it, even when I'm breathing hard and my legs are aching. What usually feels like a grind to the finish turns into something...fun.

Seriously: Why am I doing this?

I know I wouldn't have runs like that without training. I know that if I turned back for home every time a run got hard, the runs would never get easier. Just like so much of life, I put in the work so I can enjoy the fun.

This same idea will hold true for any resolutions. If you don't see results--if there's no payoff--it's going to be very hard to stick with the plan.

The good news is that a regular running routine will definitely reap rewards. I hope you are able to make running part of your life in 2018.

Who knows? Maybe I'll see you at your next race!

Over the Long Haul: 8 Benefits of Running with your Spouse

Twinsies by accident!

When we started running (consistently) in 2009, we almost never ran together. Besides having 2 little kids at home (6 and 4), we didn't run very similarly:  different pace, varying times of the day, and contrasting workouts. Most of the time back then, one of us would run early, then we'd switch off so the other person could go. It was like that game “tunnel tag” we played duirng grade school recess, except we didn't crawl between each other's legs before heading out the door for a run, and it wasn't nearly as fun.

In the summer of 2015, we started running together more. Our kids were older (10 and 12) and it was easy to run at 0-dark-30 before they (or anyone sane) woke up. We could run 10 miles, stretch, shower, and make waffles before the kids slithered downstairs on a Saturday. Because we could run together, we decided to train for and run a race for our 15th Anniversary. Yep, we celebrated 15 years of marriage by running 31 miles. Nothing says “I love you” quite like sliding down a steep muddy hill and knocking your husband down like a bowling pin. And they say romance fades over time.

Crazy hill at Point Defiance 50K. Notice the rope!

Before 2015, when we did manage to get to run together, we called it a “Running Date.” If you're scoffing because you think a red-faced, sweaty husband is gross, then you're missing the point.

Let me tell you the 8 benefits of running with your spouse:

1. No travel time. After sleeping in a queen-sized bed for 20 years, we broke down and bought a king last spring. Holy rollover room, Batman. Now, we're a separated by 2 feet instead of 4 inches, but we still have zero time considerations when we meet for a run. Even running partners who are neighbors have to wake up a couple minutes earlier to allow for time to get to each other. We're already there.



I must be telling a joke. Point Defiance 50K

2. Safety First. Running alone has a lot of benefits, including time for personal reflection, choice of route, and easy pace decisions. Still, it is generally considered less safe. Not only do I feel safer having my husband with me as far as being attacked or robbed (I've hoped for years that robbers aren't interested in my Garmin or Scott's 150$ Altras), we feel safer just having another set of eyes to notice large roots or cars who refuse to stop. Red lights and stop signs don't matter before 7 a.m., apparently. I've screamed “SCOTT!” and grabbed his shirt, or had his arm across my chest more than once in the last two years.

3. It's a marriage, too. Running with your spouse can give you 45 minutes to 2 hours (or more!) of uninterrupted time to discuss important parts of your lives. For us, whether it's figuring out where to go on vacation, when to file the taxes, or how to manage a kid that won't stop lying, running together has afforded us time to privately talk about essential details of marital life. Or, tell each other dirty jokes; whatever keeps the spark alive!

4. Enjoy the Stillness. Since we've been married forever and we see each other a lot, sometimes we don't need to talk. It's nice to run with someone who understands that it's OK to be quiet. We don't feel the need for incessant gabbing and can enjoy the sounds of nature or get lost in our own heads for a couple of miles.

Warming up before a race and keeping to ourselves.

5. OMG. I need a “lookout.” There may have been a time (or two, get it?) when I needed to use the bathroom but there wasn't one! Frack!! Scott would have been a fantastic sentry. In real life, he's a business analyst, which has no similarities, but you gotta play the hand you're dealt, right? I'm telling you that he's wonderful at making sure “the coast is clear” and I have zero worries about copping a squat when he's there. This man saw two babies come out of me. Nothing that exits from me during a run compares to that!

6. Stay Gold, Ponyboy. In order to stay true to your running goals, running with your spouse can keep you honest. I'm a little bit competitive. That said, I'm also a human being who hates those cold, dark, windy, and rainy mornings as much as any normal person. It's slightly easier to pull the covers off in the morning if I'm heading to the track with Scott to run intervals on a blustery, cold morning. I can't look like a wimp in front of my man.

Baby, it's cold outside. Pretending to be tough for each other.

7. Divide and Conquer. Since we're often training for different events, which might mean different distances or different terrain (road vs. trail), we will sometimes do partial runs together. Last year, I was training to run 50 miles and Scott is sane so he wasn't. Scott would run five to 10 miles with me, then go grocery shopping (eat, shower, watch a movie), then come back to pick me up at the end of the trail. Yeah, we both felt spoiled; me because I didn't have to run out and back (or grocery shop), and Scott because he only had to run 5 miles instead of 25.

8. My hero. We've saved each other's bacon a couple of times in the last two years. Scott is awesome at bringing and carrying an extra light. Apparently, I turn my head a lot when I run so if I wear a head lamp, it's like a strobe and everyone gets dizzy. Scott is awesome with the headlamp or he'll carry knuckle lights so we can both see and avoid a skunk on the trail. True story and, gosh, isn't he sweet? I've saved his booty a couple times too by carrying WAY too much food or water for just myself. Dried apricot, Nuun, PB&J?

He's happy because I just shared my sandwich.

What about you? Do you run with your spouse?

Are there more benefits that I forgot to mention?

Are there other activities that you do enjoy doing with your spouse?

Road vs.Trail: A roadie's lessons from a year running trails

In the Fall of 2016, I lost my mind I decided that I wanted to challenge myself and spend 2017 running on trails. Just so we're clear, I am NOT a trail runner. I told a guy at the beginning of Mary's Peak 50-miler: “I'm just a 10K runner pretending today.” And, that wasn't far from the truth. My challenge was to do the kind of running that I'm not particularly good at and to culminate the experience by running a 50 miler. I ran 5 trail races in the last year, each one progressively longer:

• 8K (Kevin's Cup Trail Run, November 2016)
• 25K (Hagg Lake Mud Run, February 2017)
• 18 Miles (Hot Springs Trail Run, April 2017)
• 50K (Soaring Eagle Trail Run, May 2017)
• 50 Miles (Mary's Peak,Trail Run, June 2017)

After finishing the 50 miler, I ran a few shorter road races (5K, 10K) and got the itch to run a road marathon. My last marathon before this one was the Newport Marathon in 2015, so, yeah, I'm rusty. I selected the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon [MCGM] for 2 main reasons. First; my dad, brother, future sister-in-law and niece (along with numerous extended family) live very close to the course and second; the race is in December. Most marathons tend to be in the Spring or Fall which means training happens in the Winter or Summer. Since, MGCM is in December, training could happen during my favorite season: Fall. That sealed the deal.

I completed the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon this past Sunday. After spending a year running on trails, I noticed that there are a number of differences between racing on the roads versus the trails.

Here are the TOP 10 DIFFERENCES:

 

1. You make it hurt so good. Roads are hard on your feet! OMG. My feet. They hurt so terribly by mile 6, I wasn't sure I could actually keep letting them hit the ground for 20 more miles. A series of thoughts circled in my head:

• “Maybe these shoes have too many miles and there's no more cushioning.”
• “My feet didn't hurt at all during training.”
• “Is this road made out of solid concrete?”
• “I think my feet would feel better if I was just beating them with a hammer.”
• “Take faster steps so there's less contact time”
• “I've turned into a baby having been spoiled running races on mud and dirt the last 12 months!”
   

2. I'm going the distance. I'm going for speed. You can run a faster pace on the roads. Okay, duh. There are no slippery rocks to ski down, or sneaky tree roots to catch a toe on, and no crazy cliff edges upon which you are teetering between staying alive and breaking a bone, losing your front teeth or worse. Thus, you can go (a lot) faster. The problem, initially, was that I wasn't accustomed to running fast. That first “fast” training session, I thought my shoe was going to fly off. Dang! I re-laced my shoes and over the 16 weeks of training, I actually started running faster. What? You mean training works? Who knew?



Mile 20. I finally passed the runner behind me for good.



3. It's the thrill of the fight, risin' up to the challenge of our rival. People are WAY more competitive during road marathons vs. trails runs/ultras. “People” are more competitive? Hmm...OK fine, it's me. On Sunday, I spent at least 10 miles trading places with another female runner. Why would she not just relinquish and go away? She probably thought the same thing about me! During trail races, I would tell the people behind me that they could go ahead and pass me, but 9 times out of 10, the person would say, “Oh. I'm fine back here.” Nobody really cared about who was in front.

 

4. Be careful not to choke. Eating and drinking are more challenging during road races because I don't let myself stop. That means I am trying to take in fluids and nutrition while running. It's nearly impossible to eat or drink gracefully without choking, spewing, and later developing aspiration pneumonia. I was SOOO out of practice for doing this having spent a year taking my time fueling up at trail aid stations. On the roads, gels are fairly easy to swallow while running, but try drinking water or Powerade from a cup while running. Gah. At some point I ended up with Powerade in my eye. Don't ask.

Aid station grace at Mary's Peak

5. If it smells like funk. Elimination timing really matters. I have paranoia about having to pee (or more!) while racing a road marathon. I'm not going to wet myself, but stopping during the race is out of the question. Wearing Depends would cause more harm than good (I don't want to imagine the chafing), so I end up being obsessive about going beforehand. At the MGCM, I went through the port-a-potty line 3 times before the race. During an Ultra-marathon, the forest provides endless possibilities for relieving oneself, so it's essentially a non-issue.



Slow goin' on mossy rocks.
Kevin's Cup

6. I hear the clock tick. I care more about my finish time. It's true. Maybe if I felt like I was at all competitive during trail races (um, faster), I might care more about my time for those. Speed is not a priority. Like I've said, during a road marathon I don't want to stop to eat or go to the bathroom, whereas during trail race, I stop at aid stations and eat real food. During the trail races, I would stop and eat bananas, my homemade plantain waffles with almond butter, watermelon, dried apricots, and plantain chips. I also make “pit stops” to go potty if needed (usually at an aid station port-a-potty, but I can't swear that was always true).

7. Steady as she goes. It's easier to run a consistent pace on the roads. On the trails, there are just so many more variables. There are even things that cause injury and death: roots, rocks, cliffs, and hills that go up for 1200 feet at a time! My mile splits could vary by 10 minutes on the trail depending on the terrain and elevation change. On the road, mile splits might only vary by 30 seconds.





Laughing my way to the finish line
@ Hagg Lake

8. Why so serious? There is less smiling and laughing during the race. I've outlined above a few reasons why road marathons are more serious. I noticed that I was smiling in more in the pictures taken on the trail this past year than during my road marathons. However, I had a BIG smile when I saw my dad at the finish line on Sunday!

 

9. Our time is short. My training time for this road marathon was a million times shorter. I enjoyed time on the trails, but between driving to/from the trail and the longer time it takes to cover the distance, I found I was spending up to 3-4 hours a week longer in training to run a similar mileage.

10. Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. Sometimes, running long distances on a road or a trail looks the same near the end. Whether it's on soft single track in the depths of the coast range or on a road overlooking sandy beaches, the race can chew you up and spit you out. During the last part of any long race, there is always some carnage. People are walking, shuffling crying, trying to massage or stretch their legs. A guy I passed at Mary's Peak around mile 40 said, “This race is no joke!”

Yeah, after Sunday, I'd say no road marathon or trail ultra really ever is. 

Everyday I'm shuffling. Finish line @ Soaring Eagle 50K

I'm back to running, and thinking about that label "Special Needs"

Did I mention that I'VE BEEN RUNNING?

It's true. Huzzah. I ran 13 miles last week and I'll probably run about 20 miles this week. The hamstring is feeling pretty good, not perfect, because it feels kind like it's weak. Um, because, it is. Lame.

I can barely explain how wonderful it has been getting back into my dusty old running shoes. I work through a lot of crud in my head when I'm out running. I don't process my life's worries as easily while doing the dishes or driving. This week, my son has been weighing heavily in my thoughts during my miles.

When our kids were small, my wise sister-in-law said, “I think easy babies are boring. It's much more fun to have a spirited child.” At the time, I wasn't so sure. I wished for a baby that would sleep contently in a car seat, or a toddler that I could take to a restaurant. That wasn't in the cards, but I wouldn't change out my hand, now.  Last week, you could say that I've been anything but “bored” with my challenging 12-year old.

Recently, while I was running, I was listening to a Podcast and a woman mentioned that she was with her “special needs daughter” who had “ADHD.” I said out loud for everyone on Fanno Creek trail to hear, “ADHD is not Special Needs!”

Maybe because my son is diagnosed with ADHD/ADD, I had a knee jerk reaction to the label “Special Needs” when it comes to ADHD. I've always thought that it was a label for a condition or diagnosis that is more serious and all encompassing, like Autism, Down Syndrome, or Cerebral Palsy. Maybe that is a fallacy? Maybe I've been deluding myself into thinking that because I don't want my kid to have such a label? Honestly, I'm not sure.

Hmm...there it is: ADHD

Jude is now 12 and in the 6^th grade. As with any child and any age, there are trying, demanding, unpleasantly surprising, but also loving, quiet and carefree times. Jude has many fantastic traits, but he also has struggles. This last week, he and I have been having a tough time working together. I know what he needs to do, but getting him to comply is the problem. I'm sure that many parents feel this struggle.

 

 

Dysgraphia. Luckily, we are in the digital age.

In addition to his diagnosis of ADD, he also has dysgraphia (difficulty with handwriting such that it's illegible and nearly impossible for him to do). Given these challenges, school has been less than a stellar place for Jude. We've struggled the last 6 years because in spite his challenges, Jude also has very high test scores (we're talking 98 percentile), and a very high IQ (yeah, probably a lot higher than mine, little brat). You may not think so, but it was a disadvantage for Jude to score well on tests, but actually NEED help in the classroom beyond that of other students in order to complete his work.

At the end of the last school year, we finally got more specific help for Jude with an IEP [Individualized Education Plan]. The psychologist remarked during the IEP meeting, “we've never had a kid with test scores THIS high in Special Ed.” And, that's when it hit me:

Special Ed.

Special Needs.

My kid is...well, Special.

In my heart, I've always known this. Even now, I have to remind myself daily that what is expected from other kids his age isn't a fair measurement because his brain is disorganized. At the same time, in other ways, he's light-years ahead of other kids, so again the expectations are different. He needs outside assistance to stay on track, but he fights this constantly. It will probably be this way at least for a while until he matures enough to realize that you have to work for what you want. What else is there to do? I have to keep helping him succeed, until he can do it on his own.

Why? Because I know that with perseverance and hard work something special will come from my intelligent, messy, argumentative, fun-loving son. Like my slow come back from this annoying hamstring injury, I know Jude's success won't be easy, but it will be worth it.

A Sixth of Firsts: The 2015 Holiday Half Marathon

As I'm sure you've just read, Melissa has been nursing an injury to her leg for a few weeks. The morning of the Holiday Half she decided she would not try to compete. Instead, she offered to run with me to help stay on my goal pace. In six years of running this race, we've never done it together.

I also lost my iPod (temporarily), so Melissa let me borrow hers. Since she wasn't racing, she said, she would be able to just enjoy the holiday music, carolers, and cheering fans. Sadly, the headphones I brought didn't want to produce any sound. In six years of running this race, this would the be first time I'd done it with no music.

Rupp behind Mo Farah in the 2012 Olympic 10,000m Final. (AP Photo/Anja Niedringhaus)

This was also the first time we were able to see an elite, professional runner compete in this race. Olympic silver-medalist Galen Rupp was running this one, possibly to qualify for the Olympic Marathon. Since the race is out-and-back, we got to watch him run by. He looked amazing, focused, but barely working hard. At least, that's how he appeared in the second or two we could see him. He was at least 10 minutes ahead of the second-place finisher.

Finally, this was the first race I've run that was canceled part-way through. Fortunately for us, it was after we finished, but hundreds of runners were not able to finish at all. When we were about six-and-a-half miles in--not long after the St. John's Bridge--I heard what I thought were some train cars banging around. The course is not far from the Willamette River, and much of it overlooks the freight terminals of the Port of Portland. The sound was similar to one I'd hear when running on a certain stretch of the Wildwood Trail (on the opposite side of the river), and I'd always imagined they were coupling freight cars. That, or something huge was being loaded or unloaded down there.

A few minutes later, as we turned on to St. John's Avenue, I looked to my right and saw a huge, black plume of smoke. "Oh shit, look at that!" Seconds later, we heard the sirens. It occurred to me then that I'd heard an explosion, not some coupling cars. For the next three miles or so, the skyline was dominated by the towering pillar. Something was obviously on fire, but I didn't know enough about that part of town to know what it could be. Heading back toward the bridge, I got a better idea. Eventually we had to run through it, though the wind had shifted and it wasn't all that bad for us. I glanced over just after passing under the bridge, and I could see the flames. A spectator nearby said it was "oil cars" that blew up. OK, well, he didn't sound too concerned. We'd later learn that a driver was killed when he lost control of his truck and slammed into train cars carrying asphalt. We also learned that the race directors opted to cancel the race after the smoke became too thick.

I shifted my focus back to the race, because the smoke was behind us. At that point, I realized I hadn't asked Melissa how she was feeling. "I'm OK," she said. "If you need to go, then go." "No," I said, "I don't." We were climbing up the hill toward Mile Marker Nine, and I really didn't feel like doing anything but stopping. I walked a few steps at the water station then powered up the rest of the hill.

For the first six miles, we had been right on my goal pace. But we slowed down to get some water at one point, and also as we started the long, slow climb back from the turnaround. By the time we hit the Bridge again, we had been off the pace for a few miles. I really didn't want to lose anymore time, and I tried to just keep up the same effort level and not back off. I could still try beat my old time, even if I couldn't meet my stretch goal of breaking an hour and 43 minutes.

Having passed the race's tail-end, everyone around us was running about the same pace in the same direction. (Except Galen Rupp, that is. He won the race handily, then decided to go back out on the course for his cool-down. He breezed by in the opposite direction when I was around mile 9.) For a little while, I thought Melissa was right behind me--I even thought I recognized her breath. Afterward, she would tell me that I left her behind at that water station. She couldn't hold onto the pace, and didn't want to hurt herself even more.

Usually by this point in a race, I'm feeling pretty crappy. Melissa and I have chalked this up to my nutrition, which I could discuss at length. Suffice it to say that I've had success with eating more before and during races and long runs, and that was my plan today. I passed the 10-mile marker feeling very full and began rethinking. The daunting logistics of opening a packet of gel, sucking it out, then trying to gulp down some water would do little to help my focus. I opted to leave the gel in my belt and see what happened. Maybe it was foolish, but I actually felt strong with only 5K remaining. Plus, I didn't want to feel sick.

By now I knew I was running alone. Melissa was somewhere back there, probably a few yards, but not going to catch up. I hoped she really was OK.

As I turned onto the bluff on Willamette Boulevard, a wave of fatigue washed over me. Damn. I still had the gel packet, but still didn't want to attempt it. There were only 2.1 miles to run. I had to hold onto this, which meant pushing just a little harder. Seconds later, a runner passed me on the left and I immediately tried to make him my focal point. I couldn't catch him, so I started picking out other people to pass instead. I've heard this is a tried-and-true strategy, but I've never felt competitive enough to try it. It was tough, but the 12th mile was my fastest of the race--by about 20 seconds!

Finally, I turned onto Greeley Avenue to see the finish line. I didn't have much left, but I laid it all down. Since my first time running the Holiday Half, my main fear at that point has always been tripping right before the finish. It's downhill and there are timing mats on the ground to negotiate. I know, I know, but it's scarier when you're sprinting in front of scores of spectators while listening for the announcer to mispronounce your name.

As I closed in, I saw that the race clock read, “1:42:45”. Wow, I had actually done it! Just then, a guy right in front of me tripped and tumbled to the ground. "Oh, shit!" I yelled, then slowed down to ask if he was OK. He looked up, bleary-eyed, and grunted that he was. In that split second, I decided to finish the race then come back to help. As soon as I crossed the final mat, I turned around to see him getting to his feet. As he crossed the line, I checked with him one more time.

I crossed at 1:42:56, but my official time was one hour, 42 minutes and 44 seconds. That is around 40 seconds faster than my previous best time. I really could not be happier with this finish. Like Melissa, who finished just a few minutes later, I spent much of this training cycle (and most of the year) with a nagging injury: tendinitis in my knee. It's certainly not as bad as hers, but I never felt like I recovered the speed I had last year. My workouts were always sluggish, and only a few of the long runs actually felt good. I figured it would be a push to even reach my old PR.

Usually, going into a race I have a decent idea of my potential. OK, so I didn't win first place, but this may have been the first time in six years that I have so drastically underestimated myself.

This is Not the Injury I Was Looking For (No STAR WARS spoilers)

You know that you are an injured runner when you're envious watching the STAR WARS Episode 7: The Force Awakens. I won't spoil anything for those who haven't seen the movie by telling you that some of the characters run a bit. As they were dashing around the screen, I stared at them with great longing.

Seriously, who does that?? A runner who can't run. Right now, I can't jog across the theater parking lot without my right leg whimpering. A few weeks ago, my right leg started hurting right where my hamstring inserts into my ischial tuberosity. FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC. Proximal Hamstring Tendonitis. As if that wasn't bad enough, I was about 10 days out from a race, the Holiday Half Marathon.

If you're not familiar with proximal hamstring tendonitis, it makes your butt hurt. Every single time my right foot makes contact with the ground, my butt hurts. And, like the STAR WARS craze right now, it is simply impossible to ignore. It got so bad during an easy run that I was relegated to walking, and then trying butt exercises and stretches to relieve the pain. That helped zero, but I'm sure I looked really cool rubbing my butt with my fist on the side of the road. Sadly, I ended up hobbling home the best I could. I took a 4 days off, then tried 3 miles. It felt better but it wasn't fixed. Against my better judgment, I ran the race anyway. It was awful, big surprise. It felt like someone was stabbing my butt with a hot poker every time I took a step.



That's no moon. It's a race medal!

When I hung up my gigantic medal after the race, I thought of Clark's boss, Mr. Shirley, in Christmas Vacation saying, “Put it over there with the others, Greazeball.” There was no satisfaction in finishing a race that I'd limped my way through on the verge of tears.





Look at my running shoes. Patient. Cute. Reflective.

The pain has forced me to keep my running shoes neatly on their rack. I'm not running, but I'm not someone who can just lay on the couch holding my butt and crying. And, my leg doesn't hurt when I'm not running on it. So, that leaves lots of other exercise besides running. Weight training, yoga, stair climbing, plyometrics, cycling.





 

 

 

 



Enter my new exercise buddy. This is Jesse. My trusty steed has been around for a while, but we've now become like besties. Isn't he handsome? I can ride my bike anytime, except that I have to give myself some breaks because the seat isn't all that comfortable day after day. Hamstring tendon feels fine. I'm smiling because I just started riding.

After spending an hour at the gym this morning working out indoors, I know that running outside without pain will be worth waiting for.  Not unlike Episode 7, right?  Maybe when I can run again, I can tell you more about how STAR WARS relates to running, but for now, we'll just have to wait.