HoCoMo`s

Making progress

2010-05-20T10:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's run was a veritable triumph after several lackluster workouts for me. A road-run loop of 6.2 miles with a monster hill, completed in precisely 50 minutes. I could feel that, except for the hill, I was running faster than normal, but this time was a pleasant surprise. I look forward to trying that loop again and tackle the hill at a better pace, knowing how long it is, etc.

Incidentally, Suzanne's tempo pace has increased dramatically of late. She's going to rock the sprint tri scheduled for next month. I'll make her post about it soon.

For today, cross-training may be a boot camp video, or simply schlepping more 40-pound bags of mulch around. We'll see how the mood strikes...

Nothing to it but to do it

2010-04-16T08:25:00.000-07:00

I've been working on my pace in a methodical and gradual way lately, but it occurs to me I have not done actual speed work since...uh... last summer. TODAY IS THE DAY, people. I'll post more later, but I am thinking half-mile intervals at a 7mm pace. My colon got nervous as I typed that. Wish me luck.

Updated: Intervals are such a roller coaster ride. Many times throughout my brief workout I wanted it to be done, worried that I would vomit, or both. My routine: .5mi warm up at 8:34, 4x .5mi @ 7:03 with .25mi jogs, .75 'cool down' around 8:05. Let me tell you, when 8:05 felt like a light run, I was flying high! Not saying I'm looking forward to doing it again this week, just that it made me happy. Now I seem to have reached my 8:15 comfortable-tempo pace (albeit still not my conversational pace), so I am hoping this work will push me to the next level....

Sorry I keep doing this

2010-03-16T15:25:00.001-07:00

....this one's about my dad:
http://mypwe.blogspot.com/2010/03/fathers-introduction-to-joy.html

Look over here

2010-02-22T10:58:00.001-08:00

http://mypwe.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-bets-are-off.html

The call

2010-01-29T11:23:00.000-08:00

Rusty and tired. Weighed down, yet somehow nerve-endings feel jangled. Can't focus.

Work sits silently, staring me in the face. The expression might be described as bored or morose. Or maybe weary. Chores to be done hum in the background, behind the running dishwasher, a low and discordant tune. The clouds sweep by at a snail's pace, adding to the gray pallor of the day and draining the room of color. The breeze, a quieter twin of yesterday's wind, makes 23 degrees feel like 12. It's bite growls from outside the door leading to the garage.

Closing my eyes, I imagine the bed upstairs with welcoming, rumpled sheets next to the clock that tells me I have an hour to kill before heading to the bus stop. On Friday afternoon, no one would blame me for throwing in the towel. For hiding for a little because I can.

But more strong is the call from the basement. The treadmill sits compassionately, ready for me to work out some of the....what? Worry? Stress? It knows it offers but a brief respite, but there's more to it. If I answer the call, I will hang my hat on a day where I did more than hide. I will have added to the number in my mind - miles run, footsteps one in front of the other, number of days in a row of exercise for the week, number of times I have breathed a sigh of relief for endorphins.

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Better give it another 15 minutes for lunch to be digested. In the meantime, the weight feels lighter. Up the stairs to change the shirt and find the running shoes. Calm sets in even before movement starts. I am grateful.

No pressure

2010-01-11T05:41:00.001-08:00

Slowly easing back into routine. Eighteen miles total last week. Thinking thoughts about speed. Overall goals? Not sure yet. No races on the docket, though I am considering Clyde's (as usual), and some as-yet-undetermined 10-miler.

Otherwise:
- Get comfortable with a sustained 8mm pace.
- Continue strength training.
- Lose some ticks on the measuring tape in strategic areas (belly, hips, thighs, I am looking at you).

I continue to be strongly motivated by everyone's Facebook posts. What a great thing - a social networking site that actually works positively.

Now if I could just make my perrenial GI issues disappear. I can't complain though, as I know I have no real inclination to monkeying with my consumption habits.

This year is going to be about wholeness. Being rounded and grounded. Only pressure where it will get me happier, and no longer the kind to take the edge off for a brief spell. Can I do it? Let go. But again, no pressure.

More from the injury-prevention files

2009-12-02T17:06:00.000-08:00

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/01/phys-ed-how-to-prevent-stress-fractures/

Worth a look.

Missing the Stroller

2009-12-01T08:52:00.000-08:00

Last weekend Kiersten wasn't feeling well but by Saturday, she'd been in the house for 3 days straight. Although it was chilly, the sun was shining brightly. I asked if she wanted to go in the jogger with me for my walk/run because I thought some fresh air would help her feel better. I was somewhat surprised that she said yes.

Off we went. Mommy and stroller-girl for the first time in at least 6 months.

I hadn't realized how much I missed my running companion. She chatted with me and periodically told me she loves me. Even when I chose to walk, I was getting a great workout pushing her 40 lbs. Clearly she enjoyed it too since, when I asked if we should head home or keep going, she always said keep going! We went about 4.5-5 miles!

So, those of you mommies who are eagerly awaiting the time you can run consistently without the stroller, remember to enjoy the time you have with it. It's hard, it can be very trying when the occupants aren't cooperative but, it also has it's advantages.

It happens to the best of us

2009-11-19T04:40:00.001-08:00

We're getting older. One of us (*ahem*) will be crossing a big milestone age shortly. With age can sometimes come an increased risk of injury.

So far I have been fairly lucky, but I have seen many friends hurt of late - one 'threw her back out' and was sofa-bound for a week, in substantial pain, after picking up her toddler. Yikes!

What are your favorite stretches or other preventative measures for injury?

After all - we all aspire to be like Gene.

racing and childbirth?

2009-11-02T17:58:00.000-08:00

I know two people racing in the Florida Ironman this weekend. (Someday I might want to try an Ironman.) One of them has a time range in which he hopes to finish. The other has finishing before the race cutoff (of 16 or so hours) as the goal but also has a "best case scenario" in mind that will only be revealed after it is all finished. Two different approaches. Two valid approaches. One thing I hope, is that whatever their finishing times, they will both be equally satisfied with their accomplishments.

When I did my first triathlon after having babies, the Irongirl in Columbia, I couldn't believe my sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. I didn't remember that from races in my younger days. The Irongirl was a "short" race, however, my feeling of accomplishment was no less after that race than after completing my first Olympic distance triathlon two years later. After both races, my feelings of satisfaction and exhaustion were complete! I actually told my mom after one of my races, "the closest thing to the way I feel now is how I felt after childbirth."

I don't want to offend anyone or belittle anyone's racing or childbirth experience but, as I think about my friends and their Ironman Race, I am thinking about the the parallells between childbirth and racing. For both there is a long period of preparation with increasing difficulty. For racing this is self-imposed and can last anywhere from a few months to a year or more. There is also a lot of anticipation, expectation, worry and preparation involved in both. When finally the race/birth day arrives, there is nervousness, ritual, and build-up.

Ultimately, you give a full and exhausting effort, both physically and mentally. The satisfaction of finishing the race and the exhaustion and rush at the end are thrilling. The thrill at the end of childbirth is... well, undescribable. And the warm shower after both events can't be beat.

I think there is satisfaction in knowing that you prepared the best you could and put out your best effort. Luckily, after a race you can sleep and rest!

I don't know if I'm unique in feeling this way and seeing the parallels. I had long labors and natural childbirth and some great races, that probably colors my perspective. Perhaps these are just the insane ravings of a woman who is 5 years out of her last childbirth and getting older by the minute. Maybe I'm just weird (and I'm ok with that). At any rate that is how racing feels to me and that satisfaction and exhaustion are a big part of why I race.

I hope that my friends can find their racing experiences as satisfying as I (usually) find mine. And maybe the men can feel a little of the pain and satisfaction we women feel giving birth.

It's a fact

2009-10-29T05:20:00.000-07:00

The body is built for distance. Marathoners - good luck this weekend!

Mister Sun, Sun, Mister Golden Sun...

2009-10-28T10:31:00.000-07:00

...oh yes, it looks like it could be a run-outside-day after all! Happy Taper Week to me...

Not at all related to food

2009-10-21T07:03:00.000-07:00

Food for thought - barefoot running:
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/21/phys-ed-is-running-barefoot-better-for-you/

On fuel and foibles

2009-10-20T04:40:00.000-07:00

A friend told me recently that I am a gourmet cook. Not so, though I can read a recipe quite well. I may enjoy throwing this together for a random Friday night dinner for family and friends. And I may be delighted by knowing I can start off with this, and have an impressive appetizer to match my aperitifs. Is it the for love of eating? The love of entertaining?

The truth of the matter is that, though I am proud of my results, I am thrilled by the power of perceived alchemy, and by the celebration that naturally surrounds a good meal. The moment that my family sits down to eat on the average weeknight and coalesces into a happy, chattering unit that occasionally stops to compliment me on the food fills me with deep satisfaction. The moment that wine glasses are lifted at the start of dinner in the dining room, when the plates are full and beautiful, and the candles reflect appreciation and happiness from those around the table is a moment of complete joy for me. The first bites (and sips of wine) are the best. Food, at that point, does not get any better.

The other meals of the day are a smattering of comfort-food offerings that I attempt to keep balanced and healthy. Do I worry about food? Nope. Though I am plagued by portion-control issues, and a palate that is remarkably limited given how tough I am on my girls when they eat the same thing too often, I leave my real foibles for elsewhere in my life. Rest assured they are varied and numerous.

But it makes me sad when I see friends struggle. Is intake a crutch? Is it something to be ashamed of? Is it an escape? Maybe I am hyper-aware of the potential downward trend in the dance between food and self-esteem. When I was growing up, my mother struggled with her weight, and was always at the opposite ends of the eating spectrum. Food was either something she avoided or took in to feed something deep inside. She often spoke of it like a weight around her shoulders, even when she was trying to be positive about it. She would bake frequently when on a diet, somehow getting close to food without consuming it. She would refuse food later in life because she was afraid of her low metabolism thanks to her sedentary lifestyle - even to the point of risking her health rather than consuming enough calories to maintain her strength.

Luckily she was aware that for children, food could simply be a joy. She blessed me with a love of the convivial nature of cooking and eating, and unknowingly gave me the key that could have set her own spirit free. Keep it simple, homemade and balanced. Have treats around so you never need to crave them. Relish it, and then move on to other emotionally satisfying parts of your day.

The challenge is to turn off what we're being told. Commercials for diet pills tell us it's not our fault we're overweight, but that of our stressful lifestyles. Lifestyle shows demonstrate parents coming home from work to cook full meals before taking their kids to a range of activities after having been at school all day. Everyone is happy and fulfilled, and no one is stretched thin by this going-going-going. How is that possible, day after day?

I recently read an article in Runner's World about Ryan Hall in which he expressed a great attitude about food - and rest. Both are something you need to do your best every day - a philosophy that was as appealing as it was patently obvious. We live in a society where working almost to the point of exhaustion is the rule, and that tiredness is treated like a badge of courage. Food is something both worshiped and reviled as we worry about our image in spite of all our knowledge about health and well-being. What an amazing thing to read - that food is fuel, and should not be feared. What a freeing concept, to look at sleep as a tool for recovery so you can hit the ground running, literally or otherwise.

My takeaway, and this is something I wish I could hand like a small gift to those around me who struggle, is to really listen to what your body is telling you. Do you need more work/life balance so that you allow yourself the time to exercise? Do you really have to be signed up for a race to justify 'you' time out on the trail or in the pool? Do you need quiet time to meditate on what is good inside you so that you no longer need food (or anything else) for a quick hit of pleasure? We all need these allowances, both for ourselves and to teach our kids. It's all good - treats, sleep, play, work. It's all good.

Starting small, and staying that way

2009-10-06T06:03:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I was tailgating with my brother prior to a Ravens game. Among the group of his usual cohorts was my brother's business partner, Henry. Most of us arrived a few hours before kickoff to enjoy various grilled treats, an open bar and a live band (yes, these folks take their pre-game party seriously), but Henry came a bit later. And he was sweating.

I asked him how he was doing, and he replied that he had just come from a half-marathon. You know, a quick Sunday run.

Now, for those of you finishing up your marathon training, this may indeed seem like a short run, but know that for Henry, this is always a short run. He is the kind of runner who, when dealing with insomnia, may choose to run to his office rather than drive. To Rosedale. From Falls Road. He is the kind of runner that will complete a long-distance race even when injured, and will be ticked off when he barely keeps up with his usual 5m/m pace. He is the kind of runner that finds only ultra races challenging. Challenging in a way that still leaves him smiling and filled with confidence, rather than hurling on the side of the road. That kind of runner.

On this day, as he chugged a frothy beer and gladly accepted bratwurst and fried chicken as it was handed to him, he asked what I have been up to. His face, now just damp, is deeply creased from years in the sun, and the life of a business owner with kids now in college. He stares at me intently as I pause. Should I tell him I am not doing the Baltimore running festival this year? Should I tell him I have been focusing more on the rest of my life this summer than training? Should I tell him I still can't find the motivation to run a full 26.2?

Even though I am wildly intimidated, I keep my face neutral and calm as I tell him what I have been doing rather than what I haven't. I tell him I have been training for an 8K at a local winery.

"It's a cross-country race," I say. "Very hilly."

Henry's response?

"Awwww!" (Read in a tone that says, 'how cute - a little 8k!')

I feel my face burn in embarrassment and my blood pressure shoot up, but I manage to keep from babbling on about just how hard the race is. I give just a few more sentences about how pretty the course is, and how it is fun to trek up through the woods and past streams. We are both distracted then by other guests who pop over to chat.

What do I say to questions about my running ambitions when, well, they're just not that ambitious? Should I feel proud of my current accomplishments and goals, or strive for more? There will always people who make my efforts seem small, like Henry, but can I feel secure enough in my own skin to not feel guilty about running just 10 miles?

What is your be-all end goal?

Hot hot hot

2009-09-24T11:28:00.000-07:00

Great run yesterday with Kavita, but man, it was hot! My fault for running midday, but still. I am used to the cooler, drier weather of late. Today's another humid one. I'm sure glad my cross-training will happen indoors.

Oh motivation, where art thou?

2009-09-18T07:41:00.000-07:00

Last night I was driving home from Parents' Back to School Night, and I was totally fired up. I had completed a decent amount of work during the day (process analysis - my favorite!), had thoroughly sweated through the CF kickboxing routine, gotten dinner on the table, showered and even put makeup on before the evening's event. I proceeded to drive 40 minutes, listen to multiple speakers, move between buildings, greet other parents, and talk to various teachers about J's class and subjects. I should have been worn out.

But there I was in the car, music blaring, cruising home down empty, dark roads, thinking to myself how I longed to run. My legs fairly tingled with the urge to chew up some asphalt. It was probably the adrenaline after meeting so many nice folks, after hearing how great my daughter is. I could have gone 5 miles easily, with a smile on my face.

This morning is a different story. More analysis awaits, and I find myself on the internet. There is housecleaning to be done, laundry to put away, shopping and cooking to do for tonight's dinner party. Oh, and my tempo run. And all I can think about is the possibility for a nap. Maybe I need to stand outside and breath some fresh air....I'll let you know if that works....

time

2009-09-17T11:49:00.000-07:00

I always wish I had more time for training and other things. Well, now I have it. In fact, I have nothing but time. The girls are in school. I'm not working. I've caught up on my chores... the house is pretty neat and clean since there is no one but me to mess it up most of the time now. What do I do?

Well, I've definitely increased my workouts but other than the Grapevine Run, I'm facing the off-season. How am I going to approach this off-season? Shall I add some lifting, speed work, rest? I think I operate better when I don't have seemingly endless hours to get to things. That, I definitely learned in college.

I hope I still have this time in the spring when I have races to train for. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.

Going through the motions

2009-09-16T08:19:00.000-07:00

Just finished a hilly 5. I'd hoped for a fairly tempo pace, since at certain points I felt like I was flying. Sadly I did a 8:40 mm. Damn. Gotta go back to the treadmill Friday to get the blind feel of 8:30 back....Linganore is coming...

Might be a repeat, but...

2009-09-12T15:40:00.000-07:00

....today's speed work completed thanks to Arctic Monkeys. Rockin'!

Competitors, athletes, humans

2009-09-08T18:59:00.000-07:00

I'm watching the Nadal/Monfils match in the US Open. I haven't seen such serve-and-volley in years. What a thrill, also, to see a fresh face in Monfils, a la Melanie Oudin. As much as I love Nadal, I'm routing for #13 here.

I am also intersted in the extreme contrast in styles. Here is Nadal with his fierce and powerful nature, contained within a ritualistic pattern of behaviors prior to each serve - rejecting tennis balls, picking his unders out of his butt, and bouncing the ball chosen for the service just so many times. Reminds me of Lendl, with the yanking of the eyelashes and whatnot. Meanwhile, here is Monfils, tossing the ball high in the air with each serve, giving himself plenty of time to wind-up, and yelling at himself between points.

Who is to say what style is most effective, especially given the pressures of being under the microscope, watched by millions all over the world? Given the raucous nature of the NY crowd, and the fast, hardcourt surface? It's enough to bring out the facial tick in all of us.

When I watch Nadal, I think of how in control he is. I think of how he has internalized the pressure of the moment. There's no touching him mentally out on the court. As I watch Monfils, I see him struggling to control the moment, his big serve, his emotions even though his lightening-fast legs carry him almost effortlessly across the back court. I see him pounding his chest on good shots, and making eye contact with his coach on bad ones. I find myself whispering to him on TV - "Take a deep breath. It's ok. You can do it. Stay light on your feet."

If you were under the media microscope at the beginning, middle, or heaven forbid, end of a race, what would your coping strategy appear to be? If you were watching yourself from the sidelines, what would you think, or whisper, or yell?

I am certain the phrase, "Come on, you can do it!" or any other exclamation you would use to encourage your daughter or best friend comes to mind. But, really, what is it that you most need to hear, deep-down? I am sure this varies from run to run, from race to race. But there is also the personality factor. For me, that encouragement really needs to sound like, "Dig down - it's there. You have more in the tank - give it all!" This is because my internal monologue tends to revolve around keeping a steady pace, and making overriding strategic mental plans, rather than short-term tactical decisions.

Suzanne recently identified some good micromanagement ideas for our resident Iron Girls, so she is likely more mentally agile under race pressures than I. And kudos to her. Maybe during your next race, in addition to asking your friends to come cheer for you at occasional intervals on the course, you should think about what you would most like those friends to yell to you en route. What do you need to hear?

Apropos of nothing. Michael Phelps being interviewed by Pam Shriver on the sidelines...with a handlebar mustache? Oh my. Someone needs to pull him aside, yet again.

Rave

2009-09-03T11:16:00.000-07:00

75 degrees + 0% humidity + 5 miles of country roads = perfection

Listen

2009-08-28T12:35:00.001-07:00

I've been putting it off all day. Thanks to a bit of pre-month-end work, and the need to put out some other minor fires ['other minor fires' - hmmm, sounds like a good band name], my rump was in a chair all morning. After lunch, J and I played Candlyland and then ventured out to harvest more tomatoes in between showers.

(You need to.)

Now I'm staring at the clock. Two hours before the babysitter gets here. Just enough time for a decent, easy 5 miler, or a solid yoga workout. After yesterday's CF bootcamp routine, the yoga seems appealing. Besides, can I really put one foot in front of the other on that treadmill? SO tired today.

(You know your muscles loosen up quickly on these sore days, and your heart always appreciates the slow-and-steady after the previous day's plyometrics).

J is back to entertaining herself, and JBL is working from home. No one even knows I'm up here still on the computer. Maybe I'll just see if anything new has been posted on Facebook.

(Get down there. Get it done. It will feel so good when you finish.)

Ok, OKAY. Sheesh. Here I go. Talk to you later.

IG Check

2009-08-27T15:44:00.000-07:00

So IG came and went and I didn't roar, I didn't do much of anything except meow, like a wet kitten.

I got to do it and my girls ran across the finish with me. I think I need a few more days to process this, so for now....Meow!

10 Days till IG.

2009-08-12T17:59:00.000-07:00

After all those mornings of the alarm beeping me awake at 4:30, all those Bricks that burned my thighs until it hurt to walk up my stairs when I got home, all those days sucking in air as my still sleepy body hit the water at 5:25 a.m., those times when the icy air filled my lungs as I took my first strides in the dark or when the wind whiped my helmet strap on my frozen left cheek.
Then the rides in the warm, balmy quiet mornings, the sunrises over the outdoor pool as I glided underwater, the track runs through the humidity like swimming through water in the air. 10 days seem like so little.
Yet,...10 days....my stomach fills with butterflies and my heart races a little, 10 days seems so far away! So close, I have so much more I want to squeeze in, a few more rides, a long run, another Brick, a few more swim sessions, a taper...So far, I'm nervous already! I'll be a wreck by race day!
I wonder what will prevail? All those painful mornings when I wanted to snuggle up to my husbands warm body in our toasty downy bed, yet dragged myself up to a cup of coffee (that "would put hair on my chest" to use my sisters words) sipping it as I fell out the door into the dark dropping all the ridiculous things one need for tri training.
The morning I had a few spare moments and sat down to my coffee and cried just thinking about the wrenching 16 mile run on the metric marathon course that loomed over my head, my soul, sinking me into despair.
What about all those dreaded missed workouts, when small children, husbands, family, multiple flat tires or just a good old 8 hours of sleep came first?
What will prevail? That session were I felt my body stop fighting the water for the first time and slice it as I slid through it seamlessly, surprising myself and the other women in my lane. Those rides, going farther than I ever had before, climbing hills I never had before, the distance and difficulty I did not know I could do and did! Those runs, where each time I felt stronger, faster, hungrier. Chasing bubbles, wheels, feet, in the trubulent water, mud spray, rain, sleet, snow, ice, in the cold pool water the day the heater broke and I had to belt out the laps so my hands wouldn't get numb, on those hilly rides chasing ironmen that trashed my legs so that I barely had the strength to unclip at the stop signs, in the dark running so hard I could only focus on the reflective stripes on the shoes in front of me, struggling to keep the bobbing headlight from widening the gap between the dark shape in front of me and my throbbing heart. Too many hard runs, not enough easy slow ones, not enough sleep, good nutrition, hydration, blah, blah.....
I think I'll try and fix those good swims, rides, runs in my mind. I am Irongirl, and you will hear me roar!!

Motivation Too

2009-08-02T07:52:00.000-07:00

I just read Lisa's post again and had some things to say.

I never was successful at or liked team sports. I always felt like my best wasn't good enough and I was being compared to everyone else on the team. True enough. That is the nature of team sports. I wasn't good, comparatively.

I love racing because it gives me a goal and a measuring stick to compare myself with myself and no one else (although it is always nice to pass people). It pushes me to improve and reach further than I knew I could. To accomplish new and more difficult things.

The things I've accomplished in the past 3 years have amazed me. And while it has been hard in some ways, having the discipline to stick to a training plan, running when I don't much like it, going out to train in lousy weather and fitting workouts in around the family, it really hasn't been that hard.

I think the greatest thing I've gained is a new mental toughness. When, in the past, I might have picked a flatter route over a hilly one or taken the short cut when I feel a little tired, now I think, it's just a hill or I can do this, it might be slow but I'll finish without much problem. I don't even mind the weather much. That is HUGE!

So, motivation, it's how I know I will feel after a race or training session. I nearly always feel better after training, sometimes, not any better but definitely never worse. Whenever I think I'll skip a workout, I ask myself "why not do it?" If I can't give a good reason, I do it.

Actions Speak Louder than Words

2009-07-30T05:16:00.001-07:00

In spite of the fact that, if you dare ask her, my daughter will tell you that everything about her first triathlon was horrible, she wouldn't wash off her race numbers and cried when they came off on their own after 4 days! Each time we've been to the pool since the race, she has wanted to swim laps and practice since the swim was the hardest part for her.

It was a struggle... not the race itself but everything surrounding the event. She had so many doubts and worries and fears. She was up and down the whole week before the race. When I woke her on the morning of the race, my daughter snapped, "I'm not doing the race. I want to stay in bed." She told me she was doing it only because she knew I wanted her to but, then, in a rare moment of honesty, said I really do want to do it but I'm nervous.

It didn't seem to matter when I told her that I get the shivers from being nervous before every race I do. "So what" that I don't like to wait either until it's my turn to swim in the last wave. "Who cares" that I'm slow in the transitions. "Whatever", that I get passed in the run-- a lot.

But still, at the end of her triathlon, my daughter was beaming! She was obviously proud of her accomplishment. She clearly knows what she wants to improve from her performance. She even said that she wants to join swim team!

So, I'm learning that it is important to know your children well enough to know when they just need a push and when something is better left alone. After all, nobody wants to be a pushy parent, forcing their child to do things... but I think I could've used a few pushes in my childhood. This was one instance where she needed a shove and I was glad I provided that.

Motivation

2009-07-14T05:00:00.000-07:00

I was at a client site in D.C. yesterday. As my boss and I roamed the hallways, I noticed some 'motivational' trimmings that made me chuckle. Outside the lunch room was a bulletin board with a group of employees' photos, heads enlarged for a light-hearted, comic effect. Tucked in around the pictures were words like, "Professional!" and "Spirited!" and "Friendly!"

By each person's name plate, whether on a cubicle or a wall outside a window office, was a picture of a cartoon character and description. For example, one person was SpongeBob. "Bubbly and fun, a great team-player, and strangely sponge-like." I also saw Kim Possible, and some elastic character I wasn't familiar with. I quickly noted that most of the offices in this department, a support function for a local government agency, were occupied by women.

I tried to reign in my chauvinistic, knee-jerk reaction that these motivational efforts seemed like empty tokens that were too soft and fuzzy. I mean, if they wouldn't encourage me, who would they encourage? Of course, we are all driven by different things. The good humor evident in that office speaks of a family-like closeness among the employees that I am certain supports them at the very least.

What motivates me? In the workplace, I always want to feel like I am adding tremendous value. I want to know that I am contributing to the overall success of my organization in a meaningful way. As with many things, I take work seriously, and find fuzzy awards and humorous encouragement almost insulting at times. I should probably lighten up.

As for running, well, I'm not 100% sure. A few years ago, my mother-in-law, an avid walker, asked why I had taken to running races. I gave her a rambling and long-winded explanation (imagine that) about finding SeeMommyRun, about being inspired by friends, and about keeping up with an activity that has been a constant passion in my life. However, I think what drives me is simpler than all that. Running helps me feel like I am testing my limits in a way that nothing else does. I may have articulated this before, but just now feel like it has crystallized in my mind. Finding my SeeMommyRun friends only showed me that I had a greater capacity than I gave myself credit for. Conversely, they also made me realize I wasn't pushing to the edge of my capacity. In addition to being a lifeline to my lost soul in early motherhood, these women fed (and continue to feed) my need to take myself seriously. And like YogaJoe says, I need to honor both my limits and capabilities.

I know it's good to just get out there, and that many women run faster and farther than me just for the love of the activity, and the good company of like-minded souls. Whatever works for you...

The inspiration continues!

2009-06-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

Well, yesterday's long run was a bit of a slog-fest. The weather couldn't have been nicer (other than a wee bit cooler), and I had plenty of water after a big, healthy breakfast several hours earlier. Somehow, though, I felt like my body was working more side-to-side than forward. My hands were flopping with each step due to my poor form. Lots of pronation and some knee awareness by the end. Ever have one of those days?

I could say, 'At least I got another 10 under my belt,' and feel proud about that, but then - SHIZAM! There goes Suzanne! Tri To Win 2009 - FIRST in her age group, #10 woman overall?! She ROCKS!!!

Dreams

2009-06-11T08:23:00.000-07:00

This is the second time I've had a dream that I was running with an empty jog stroller. The thing of it is that, to me, it was perfectly normal and I was happy. Other people were giving me odd looks but I had no problems. I think, in the first dream, Kiersten was actually running along with me. In the second one, there was no sign of my children. I guess they were at school.

Hmmmm. What does it all mean? I'm glad I am happy in the dreams. Maybe it means I'm ok with Kiersten going off to Kindergarten next fall!

Will the real me please stand up?

2009-06-05T10:46:00.001-07:00

I am actually looking forward to my speed run today. Even though I could be napping right now (J is sleeping for no reason!). Even though I have actual work to do today, and lots of cooking/cleaning to do for tomorrow's Belmont Stakes dinner party.

Well, maybe I will try to sneak in a couple zzzz's.....

Race day thoughts

2009-05-20T05:05:00.000-07:00

I'm not too tired, and glad I remembered to lay things out last night. Safety pins. Extra clothes. Don't waste time getting out the door. Amazingly, I get out on the road to Centennial at the exact time intended. Cardinology is my soundtrack on the way.

Find Suzanne. Calm these jangled nerves. It's on the colder side of cool, with a wet breeze. The novelty of having the team number written on me bolsters my lagging confidence. I feel part of the excitement as hundreds of people mill about, getting organized. Find our spot in the transition area. There's Suzanne. Phew.

Chatter relieves my mind of panicky thoughts. Shared worries about preparedness, performance, and the conditions. Laughter. Distractions. Let's go to the boat ramp and find VG.

All together now. Suzanne's fretting about the cold water. I notice she's not fretting about speed. Take in and take on that confidence. Wander over to MMTC tent. Wave after wave of swimmers, each in different color caps, wade in and take off. People are zipping up suits, jumping rope to warm up. Dogs everywhere. Cowbells. Horns. Music. It's only 7:15. Then it's 8. Then...

Suddenly it Suzanne's turn. Amid the backdrop of pouring rain, she disappears into the crowd. We find her in the water as the relay wave queue is readied. GO!

Back to the transition area. It's good to be with VG, to reconnect. My start seems so far away. Sooner than expected, here comes Suzanne, winded and surrounded by caps that left two waves before her. FAST! Instinctively I switch the chip between ankles. VG is off. Be safe on wet roads.

Check in with JBL - make sure J is dressed warmly before they leave the house. VG may be 1:40 or so. Suzanne is off to run for extra exercise. Alone with my thoughts, and calmer, I close my eyes and picture the course. I picture the hills and force myself to feel strong. Suzanne is back. JBL has arrived with J. I get my morning kiss and hug - what a treat. There's time still...but wait. Here's VG in 1:15! We're not even at the bike rack. Here, take my coat! Either ankle if fine for the chip! I'm off!

I pass JBL and J cheering me at the start, and then my mind and body focus. How fast am I going? Spray paint on path on the first turn upwards - 'KILL THE HILL'. My new mantra. Feeling good and strong. Check the watch at mile one. 8:50?! I know I hit start early, but, wow that's bad. Start picking off runners to pass.

Moving around the lake, feeling at an unfair advantage over those who have completed the swim and bike before me, yet jolted with adrenaline each time I move comfortably past someone. 8:00 for mile two. Keep it up, but man, here come those hills. My pattern, the mantra, the songs in my head, make me feel almost apart from my body. I know I'll never win, but this feels so good today.

As I make it out of the neighborhood, headed back toward the lake, I am winded. It takes longer to pass the next target. When I finally overtake her, I realize the worst hill is looming close. The 'Yes You Can' hill. I pass a man who is running strong, thinking he'll catch me on the hill. VG's reminder to stay positive comes back, and I erase the thought. KILL THE HILL. 'Nice skirt,' says the next man I pass. Memories of my birthday dinner at Pazo when Aggie and the girls gave me the skirt. Flush at the compliment, I push on against fatigue.

The hill is done before I know it, and I am running downhill. 'Great job!' cheers another target. Into the woods. Now the sound of the crowd is carried over the water and through the trees. 'This is where you first hear the cheers from the finish, and you'll know you're almost done,' said Marcos on our training run. He was right, and the adrenaline shot brings a smile to my face. Up along the flat stretch on the east side of the lake, around the bends usually populated by rocks and geese. Now there are cheering spectators.

Up the final hill. Top it, cruising now. I spot my last target. The thrill of the finish and my natural cheerleader spirit kick in. He is 53 and moving strongly, but I am clearly overtaking him. 'COME ON!' I shout, 'You're not going to let ME beat you?!' I can see the spirit fill him and he pulls away, just as VG and Suzanne, JBL and J appear on the hill to my left, yelling 'GO!' and 'PASS HIM!'

All smiles as I cross the finish. 'And here is Veronica Galindo, of the team For Our Girls!' shouts the announcer. I don't know yet that we have made third place. Happy. Done. Proud.

Ready to do it all again.

Taper week thoughts

2009-05-14T09:38:00.000-07:00

Rush of anxiety. Monday's off-day feels normal. Tuesday's 3 miles are almost a normal challenge in my hilly neighborhood. Muscles wonder why no conditioning afterward? Wednesday's 5 miler leaves me sweaty but not tired. Anxious. Thursday is here. Ready to weight-lift.

Nervous excitement creeping in. How will I kill over 3.5 hours between my arrival at the Columbia Tri and the start of the run? Don't over-think it. Focus on the terrain, the unique mental preparedness needed as compared to other races. Don't let the team down.

Only a few weeks since the last race, and feeling out of rhythm with my training schedule. Need to challenge myself today to burn off some of this worry. To get my confidence back. Marcos smoked me on those last hills. How can I do better on race day?

Need a mantra. An inspiration to keep from giving in and giving up. Ah, carillon will do. Name of a street on the race route, makes me think of Through Your Hands by John Hiatt (possibly the greatest songwriter of our time):

You were dreaming on a park bench
'Bout a broad highway somewhere
When the music from the carillon
Seemed to hurl your heart out there
Past the scientific darkness
Past the fireflies that float
To an angel bending down
To wrap you in her warmest coat

(Chorus)
And you ask, "What am I not doing?"
She says "Your voice cannot command.
In time, you will move mountains,
And it will come through your hands."

Still you argue for an option
Still you angle for your case
Like you wouldn't know a burning bush
If it blew up in your face
Yeah, we scheme about the future
And we dream about the past
When just a simple reaching out
Might build a bridge that lasts

(Chorus)
And you ask, "What am I not doing?"
She says "Your voice cannot command.
In time, you will move mountains,
And it will come through your hands."

So whatever your hands find to do
You must do with all your heart
There are thoughts enough
To blow men's minds and tear great worlds apart

There's a healing touch to find you
On that broad highway somewhere
To lift you high
As music flying
Through the angel's hair.

Don't ask what you are not doing
Because your voice cannot command
In time we will move mountains
And it will come through your hands...

Off to lift.

Babysitting

2009-05-01T11:22:00.000-07:00

Looking for something to occupy the kids while you exercise at home? We are loving this science kit. It says for kids 5-7, but I think even some of the 3 year olds in our group could get into this with help. I have 'assisted' in all the experiments, and they have morphed into independent play for long stretches afterward every time. Great stuff!

Carefree or See Mommy Ride

2009-04-29T18:04:00.000-07:00

I haven't been running much. Since January I've been doing my usual cross-training for triathlon (with lots of gardening thrown in and slacking in the running dept.) but until Sunday, my focus had been on cycling.

I set my sights on a 100K, metric century ride through (hilly) Western Howard County, past Andrea's house and nearly to Lisa's. Riding a century (100Miles) is on my "list" and this was a local ride with great timing. So I've been training devotedly; riding in the cold and wet, building the miles, using the horrible exercise bike when absolutely necessary, tapering, resting and, sticking to my plan. As usual, the dedication paid off and as usual, I was amazed at how well it worked.

Completely unrelated to my training, this weekend the weather decided to turn into summer. The blasting winds that have been knocking me around on the bike for 4 months calmed to a gentle, cooling breeze. The sun shone brightly. Everything in nature was in full bloom. The morning was warm enough that I didn't need extra layers to peel off later... gearing-up perfectly was a no-brainer. It was perfect and not too hot.

At 6:50 am I set out to the start of the ride. At 7:30, the ride began. I felt great and continued to feel great climbing and descending the hills. The route took me on new roads through beautiful countryside that made me feel as though I was in the middle of nowhere. I found a new favorite horrible hill on Triadelphia Rd leading up to Folly Quarter Rd. My training gave me the mental edge of knowing that I could handle any hill I encountered... I always come to the top, eventually.

Around 9am someone commented on the time and I realized that many people were only just waking up to start their days. Near the halfway point, we passed a church with people spilling out from their Sunday worship, and I thought, what better way to thank God than to spend this glorious day on a bicycle appreciating it!

I got to ride fast, my fastest downhill was 38 mph. That speed and the distance covered are things I love about riding that running can never provide. There were times of just flying down hills. The work came at the bottom, after crossing a stream and starting up again. There was a nice long stretch of smooth road with a net elevation loss that was glorious.

The fact that this was a recreational ride, not a race, also allowed me to enjoy whatever pace I chose. The lack of wind and group riding actually helped me to maintain a pace 1 mph faster than I had anticipated! I finished 4 1/2 hours later and had to dig deep for the last 5 miles but it felt good (in a terrible-tired-painful sort of way). And I was worthless for the rest of the day but it was totally worth it.

However, the greatest thing about this ride was that I was completely carefree. I did not worry about the girls (sorry girls, this happens occasionally) or what was happening at home or the many things at home that needed to be done. I did not have to finish any specific time for anything. I had no other plans for the day. I just went to ride and would return when I was done four or five hours later. I was focused on riding. I got to chat with some nice folks riding with me. I enjoyed the beautiful weather and the fabulous spring blooms. It was so liberating!

This was one of the most enjoyable things I've done for myself in a very long time and a memory that I will pull out during some less enjoyable times. I came home and thanked my husband for enabling me to do this ride and he thanked me for wanting to! He said that's what make you you and one of the reasons I love you.

Flying high

2009-04-20T07:10:00.000-07:00

What a great couple days I have had! The weather has been spectacular - the first truly warm stretch of Spring. Friday I dropped J at school and did my final easy run prior to Sunday's 10K. I actually had to stop myself at almost 6 miles. Much like my great (wet) run last Wednesday with Kavita, I was just in a really comfortable place, even with challenging hills and a decent pace.

I was aided Friday, as usual, by a peppy soundtrack. I love to note when the Gods of Shuffle Play present several songs in a row that are so well-matched they seem to have been paired by a professional DJ. This time, however, I had possibly the oddest series of songs mid-run. I was equally delighted in this instance by the incongruity:

The Heart's a Lonely Hunter - toe-tapping grooviness
When the Man Comes Around - the hairs on your arms will stand up
The Metal - If you are a child of the 70's and this doesn't make you laugh out loud, well, then, I don't think I even know who you are

I had been nervous about Sunday's race for various reasons, but mainly because we had plans to be out late Saturday evening. A good friend was having a big 40th birthday party that I just could not miss. However I was able to (mostly) control my intake and get home by 11:30. I will not complain about lack of sleep, knowing Kavita beat me on only 3 hours of sleep herself. That girl is crazy...

I really enjoyed the race, both because I got to hang out with VG and Marcos, and because I ended up keeping a fairly good pace. The Voice Inside kept warning me that I would never match last year's performance, but I was pleasantly surprised at how good I felt, how the miles passed quickly without my legs or lungs giving out. Having Aggie and Megan at the top of Columbia Road to cheer me on also gave me a much-needed boost. I have to say, when Aggie yells, "Kick 'em out on 108!" it's like hearing from a trusted coach. If she thinks I can do it, then dammit, I will. And I did.

As I crossed the finish line, I saw Marcos weaving back through the crowd to me, a grin on his face to match my own. We quickly double back to wait and cheer at the finish line for VG and the other runners out for the love of a race. Once again, the camaraderie and support I have experienced with this group of friends has buoyed me as much as the the thrill of my own success. And again, all my training has paid off, allowing me to celebrate life, health, and the joy of challenging myself.

Columbia Tri, here I come!

TICK....TICK....TICK

2009-04-11T07:28:00.000-07:00

It's 10:30. My bagel is perfectly digested. Our construction paper flower garden/tonight's centerpiece for Nanny and Baba's pre-Easter dinner is complete. JBL is working in his basement office, and J is futzing contentedly in the adjacent play room. My water bottle is ready. All my running clothes are clean and folded upstairs. And after a week of near-perfect weather...it is POURING outside.

I stare at the online radar for our region. The whole state is blotted out in blue (for clouds - dark blue implying very cloudy). I check the doppler image. The whole state is blotted out in yellow and green (for rain - dark green, right over Carroll County, implying very rainy). Neither of these images, though updated, have changed since 8:30 this morning.

Do I say the heck with it, and get soaked? Other than having wet feet, I don't really mind. But for 11 miles? Hmmmm. Can I possibly stand one more long run on the treadmill? I do have half of Die Hard still to watch ("Yippee-kie-yay, MotherXXX!"). But, for god's sake, it's SPRING....hmmm.....

TICK...TICK...TICK....

Updated: 11 miles accomplished! Which method did I chose? Shoot...the GLASS!

Haiku

2009-04-07T16:06:00.001-07:00

I wrote this haiku some time ago.

I run fast, sometimes
Slowly, pushing my two girls
Smiling, happy us.

Mac 'n cheese, revised

2009-04-07T09:25:00.000-07:00

Finally a baked cheese/pasta that even the kids (well J anyway) will eat. It pairs nicely with this. Try it out!

Fresh air and sunshine

2009-03-31T13:00:00.001-07:00

"Curses! Foiled again!" Have you ever had one of those days where nothing goes as smoothly as you want it to? Of course, we all have, and I feel lame even writing this all down, but...I felt more than desperate as another lovely Spring day goes by without my enjoying the fresh air and sunshine!

The plan was to get breakfast done, get showered and 'dressed' to go to my boss's house for a conference call (as opposed to slapping on something vaguely clean just to drop J at school), run up to the Costco for our bi-annual meat run, then down to Mt Airy for other errands. Lunch would follow, then perhaps a brief nap for J, then we would both head outdoors for some fun - she on her bike, me in my running shoes. Ah! Can you hear the pastoral sounds? The birds chirping?

But then getting out of the house is always a challenge. Did I pack everything for J? Snack? Activities? Is she even dressed? No way, not even after being prompted 3 times. Adding insult to disarrayed misery is a rebirth of the Lying Habit. Did you brush your teeth? Yes! (then why is your toothbrush dry?) Did you try the potty one more time? Yes! (then why didn't I hear the toilet flush?) Did you wash your hands? Yes! (if I smell them, will they smell like soap?!) We are finally out the door and halfway up the street when I realize I forgot my phone. I manage a 3-point-turn on a narrow street in about 5 seconds...one-handed as I apply lipstick. Back home, alarm off, phone acquired, alarm back on, back in the car, and we're off! At the exit from the neighborhood I wait for a car to pass, and note the driver has wrap-around sunglasses and belongs to the octogenarian demographic. Oh MAN!

Two miles below the speed limit all the way down 94, I am left with no choice but to cruise well beyond the speed limit the rest of the way to Urbana. My call goes fine, J is a model of quiet business while we work, and I am back out and on the way to Costco in under an hour. Shopping ensues without incident, but somehow we don't return home til well after lunch...and J wants pasta. The boiling of water, the cooking, the chatting with the neighbor who stops by to kindly drop off the shop vac...okay, you see where this is going. Then I realize I have a good 45+ minutes ahead of me for the Processing of All The Meat (getting steaks and chops individually wrapped and stored in the freezer, cleaning all tools and cutting boards in between).

At 1:45 I sit down to shove some PB&J in while I get caught up on some work, with J playing next to me. Maybe she won't need a nap? After all, she's been on antibiotics for Strep for 4 days, and slept 2.5 hours yesterday.... At 2:30 she announces she wants some 'quiet time', and we end up playing house til 3, when I notice she has serrupticiously slipped into her nightgown and is now laying on the floor, glazed over as I read to her. I guess a nap might be good after all? The battle begins. No! I'm not tired! Yes you are! No I'm not! I'm the mom, so I win! (So much for maturity.) But maybe she won't fall asleep? After I read her a last book in bed, I come downstairs to watch her over the monitor, hoping for the best as she looks at first one, then two books on her own. But at 3:45 she falls still in bed. I sigh, and put my outside running clothes on. Without hope, I still envision getting at least a couple miles in around the neighborhood if she wakes up quickly...

And then the handyman, originally scheduled for 4:30, arrives to finish the caulk work in the master bathroom. "I'll be about an hour and a half, then I'll be out of your hair!" he says with a cheerful grin.

(She hangs her head in defeat, and shuffles, downtrodden, to the treadmill in the basement. AGAIN.) But wait? What's this? JBL arrives to work from home after a late meeting nearby. Cue the birds! Cue the sunlight and blue sky! Lookout neighborhood, here I come!!

Spent

2009-03-26T17:37:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Kavita, I am worn OUT today. I did an awesome circuit class yesterday at Lifetime Fitness with her, and completed my usual tempo run this afternoon. I feel like I need a good hot tub soak tonight, and realize my 'cross-training' days in the past have really been weightlifting days. In other words, I should be doing more cardio throughout the week if I want to truly push myself. Hooray for new discoveries! Hooray for a comfy couch and ibuprofen!

Not feeling good

2009-03-19T10:53:00.000-07:00

Just tried to exercise my way to feeling better. Tried 38 minutes of Cathe Friedrich's muscle endurance show before throwing in the towel, only to step off the treadmill after a pitiful 1.25 miles at a 10 minute pace. I feel like my cold is weighing me down like a wet woolen blanket. Blah...

Feeling Good

2009-03-16T17:52:00.000-07:00

So, not everything is perfect in VG world but it's so good to be running again. I don't regret my decision to not think of more babies for now and I'm surprised at how certain I feel about that.I know that my better half feels like our family is not complete and I can understand that but, it's just that I'm starting to feel like me again, is it selfish that I want to savor that?

Sure, I still have the "I wish I ran 5 days a week" blues and the "I need to focus on my nutrition" blues and the "I need to lose those last 15" blues yada yada yada but all in all, I feel good! It's still cold and it's still dark early in the morning, but, getting up and running when most of the world is oblivious to me and my suburban mommy angst is a..a..a.. well a good thing. I love the sound of the pavement under my feet, the rustle of the reflective jackets my fellows runners wear, the icy air that makes me gasp slightly, the sort of blind "feel" I have for the road in the dark as it dips and undulates under my feet. I can actually detect some muscle under my wibbly-wobblyness. Yet, I think the best part is that it's hitting me, spring is almost here and with that balmy air and longer days, short sleeves, shorts, almost a sense of freedom from restriction and all in all a sense of relaxing a little. And I thought to myself all those spring races are coming up and you know what? Bring it on!

Tricks

2009-03-14T06:09:00.000-07:00

I have so little to add when it comes to training advice. I chatted with my SMR friends last night and was bowled over by the collective knowledge in the room. Across the group, how many marathons, half marathons, triathlons, sprints, 10ks and 5ks have been completed? The answer is likely almost too many to count. I gazed around the room at these lovely women as they sipped wine, nibbled on chocolate, had their nails done, all the while talking non-stop about daily travails and pregnancy and exercise. These athletes, for in one way or another we all are, carry a wealth of information on setting and reaching goals in real life, speaking to the seemingly infinite capacity of all women.

When I sat down to write this post, I wanted to share how excited I was about a new concept I discovered in my own training - the idea of speeding up at the end of a tempo run to get my body used to the push at the end of a race. But then I wondered if it would seem silly to note, given how much everyone in the group already knows. I can imagine someone reading this, thinking, "Oh, that old trick? I haven't thought of that in years - not since my 7th marathon back in the late '90s." But then again, this team, this incredible group of compatriots, would more likely jump at the opportunity to encourage me, and add on additional ideas to help me reach my next goal, the next level of performance. How fortunate we are to have each other!

So here is my trick. Over my first mile I ramped up to about a 9:15 pace, then held at 8:13 for 4.5 miles, then tried an 8 minute pace for the last half mile before my final cooldown mile. Though I had my usual stomach issues, I was surprised to realize that I comfortably made it to mile 6 with this final sprint, and will try a much faster sprint pace next week. Yeah! I welcome any other thoughts regarding this approach - for example, should I make the sprint longer? I want to keep this 'tempo' - i.e. distinct from my speed runs - but hope to make or even improve on my 10k time over last year's Clyde's run. I look forward to hearing any recommendations from the team...

Silence is Golden

2009-03-02T17:00:00.001-08:00

Run on the getaway

2009-03-02T07:56:00.000-08:00

Charleston was beyond-words wonderful (but surprisingly enough, I have plenty of words and photos about it, and if you're at all interested, you should stop by PWE later today when I get it all down). Not only did we sample the city's ample offerings on two near-perfect spring weather days, but I actually did a decent run around town before shopping, dining, etc. to get my lay of the land. Oh, and to work off some of the massive calories I was about to consume. So if you ever find yourself in this lovely town and in need of a good route, allow me to offer the following:

More music thoughts

2009-02-24T14:04:00.001-08:00

I can watch 2.5 episodes of House while doing my 10 mile runs on the treadmill. Usually I skip through the commercials, but lately I have enjoyed the music they use to pimp the other Big Show on USA - Burn Notice. I feel a little extra kick in my step when I hear the Red Hot Chili Pepper's cover of Stevie Wonder's Higher Ground and the 80's anthem Everybody Wants You. Oh, Billy Squier, where have you gone? I think I even heard them play the perennially righteous Dog's of Lus t by The The. Maybe I just dreamed that.

Come on, ladies. Any other inspirational tunes out there to share?

Dude!

2009-02-17T14:39:00.000-08:00

Just finished the Runner's World 'Never Get Hurt' core workout, and I must say - it was surprisingly challenging. They recommend doing it 3x/week before running, which will be great for my current routine. I'm about to hop on the treadmill for an easy 5. I'll let you know how I feel tomorrow, but I can tell you now I estimate my gluteus medius will be sore...

UPDATE: Ok, I'm not really sore in my pelvic area today, but feel the muscles in my sides and back. Good, but not what I would have expected. I guess the real money is in whether or not I see improvement in endurance thanks to improved form. Here's hoping...

Birthday tea

2009-02-16T08:26:00.000-08:00

VG hosted a lovely birthday tea yesterday for the famous and fabulous Aggie, and a wonderful time was had by all. What more could you want than a table filled with amazing food and drink, plus a room filled with vibrant and fun women? Being a part of this group, yet again, filled me with happiness and hope - as a mother, a friend, and a runner.

Check out my facebook page for the rest of the photos!

end of a dream

2009-02-12T11:51:00.000-08:00

Since this summer, my daughter has determined that she wants to go to the Olympics in gymnastics. She never did gymnastics before September and now that she does gymnastics, she doesn't love it. She loves the concept of going to the Olympics and being on TV and being famous. How does a mom introduce the reality of being an Olympian without dashing all hope in a less-than-committed 6-year-old?

Lately, as she has talked again about becoming an Olympic gymnast, my husband and I began to introduce the concepts of how many gymnasts there are in the world and how few are in the Olympics and how much training and sacrifice it takes. We said well, if you really want to go you'd better start practicing in all your free time (we haven't mastered the cartwheel yet). But when will I have time to play? Gymnastics is your play. But I don't like gymnastics, the teacher tells me what to do all the time. I'm sure you can picture where the conversation went from there.

The next thing I have is a crying 6-year-old who says with great despair then I'll never go to the Olympics. WAAAAAAH! I didn't want to say that's right, but at 6 this child doesn't have the focus or passion for any one thing to become an Olympian but, who knows, maybe it will develop. So I hedged and said maybe you'll find some sport you love and are really talented in that you can do in the Olympics. I think she almost got the idea, as much as a 6-year-old can, of what it would take for that accomplishment but I felt terrible about her dashed dream.

At least she still wants to be a famous singer.

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig

2009-02-05T08:41:00.000-08:00

Chicago was great, but I did not have time for any exercise to speak of. I thought about running - a lot - though. It's funny what can bring running to mind: a great stretch of road, a song, the feel of wind. Anyway, my boss told me about a movie called Run Lola Run as I gabbed her ear off with a near-endless monologue of my love for the activity (hmmm, and I wonder where J's verbosity comes from). Seen it? I haven't. Apparently it will make even non-runners inspired to move. (My boss is more of a swimmer by nature.) I will have to check it out.

I was a little sad that the house was empty when I got home yesterday - as JBL had taken J down to his cousin's while he went to a meeting - but I'll give you one guess as to what I did with my quiet time....

The other side of frustration

2009-01-30T18:33:00.000-08:00

It's funny, I've only logged 7+ miles this week yet I am not so irritated or angry anymore. How did that happen? Maybe I am growing up and am a little more mature. It's snowed, we've missed two weeks of school, everyone is nuts with cabin fever, yet I am enjoying the break. Don't get me wrong, my bottom feels all wibbly-wobbly (in the words of my 3 year old as she watched me get ready for my boring treadmill run today) and I have gained $^$# lbs. but somehow it's OK. I know in my heart that now I am a runner and I will always be. I might not log 45-50 miles a week this year but somehow it's not making me as insane as it used to.

The other side of my frustration is two warm little chubby arms wrapped around my neck in the early morning when it's still dark, or snuggling with two little pink, flannel clad pajama bodies under my feather comforter at a ridiculous hour when I should be making lunch. I have had so many tender moments this week, my 3 year old trying to do "yoga" next to me on her purple mat her short arms not quite able to curve the way she wanted to, my youngest trying to help me up in the middle of a my ab workout by my now ridiculously short hair as she warbles out "you k?" There must be some feel good hormone that being a mother releases too. Yes, it's winter and I have loved slowing down, I hadn't realized how frantic my pace has been lately and it's been good to take a step back, but that's it, just a step back, and now I feel stronger well rested and ready to hit the roads again, and I can't believe I'll say this, so what if it's 8 instead of 16, it'll be good to breathe in the icy air and marvel in the icy winter wonderland I never knew as a child. Who knows maybe on one of these runs I'll find some nice in me again. I know my sweet girls deserve only that from me :)

Gear

2009-01-24T16:59:00.000-08:00

Today I had a great run. I haven’t been able to say that for 3 months! It was definitely the convergence of several things. I was wearing new running shoes; the same style that I finally found last summer and love, but a new pair. I was also wearing a new jacket. It’s not even a really warm one but a great wind-stopping shell, which is what the recent weather warrants.

Not only did the shoes feel great and the shell keep me warm, but the shell is really cute. It’s a nice cut and fits well and as my husband commented, it’s bright without being obnoxious. It’s coral orange with black accents and illumilite for visibility in the dark. Very nice.

So, I was warm. My feet felt good. I looked cute. Is that why I had a great run? Probably not. The past year, my husband and I spent a ridiculous amount of money on updating our gear (but we got it all at great sale prices)! In actuality, we only do that once every five-or-so years when the old stuff starts to wear out. In time as an athlete, I’ve learned that the right gear can make a difference and it is money well-spent. The most expensive purchase I’m putting into the gear category is our new bed! This must be why I had a great run. My recent pains seem to have disappeared. My back doesn’t hurt anymore!

Primarily, the right gear makes workouts comfortable. It is so distracting to be running or riding and needing to keep tugging at a shirt that won’t stay sitting right. Chafing can be workout-ending with the wrong gear. However, the right gear can put you in the proper mind-set for a workout. If you look the part, you can act the part, and maybe have a great workout.

I hear you naysayers out there. I have friends who, other than having a good jogbra, don’t give much attention to the rest of their gear. I’m not saying you always have to have the newest and the best clothing, I wear my stuff until it dies, but next time you set a running goal, try treating yourself to some new tights or a good technical shirt or jacket. And be sure that you like the color and look cute in what you buy, it just might give you a great run.

Reflections on 2008- the year I became a runner

2009-01-24T16:57:00.000-08:00

The holidays have passed. As life returns to normal, I’m seeking a routine, a plan, a goal, again. Sure, the kids are back in school, but what about my plan? As I think, I reflect, see where I’ve been to help decide where I’m going. How do I follow up on a great racing year like 2008? I just don’t feel I have the commitment I had last year.

A year ago, I was beginning to train for my first Olympic-distance triathlon. I had a goal and a plan. I was so motivated. I had never run more than 5 miles at one time. And there I was planning to run 6.2 miles-- after swimming and biking! I planned to focus on my running, even though I didn’t much like running.

I started out, building up slowly, running 3 times a week. I sprained my ankle but couldn’t let that stop me, I had a goal. So I tried deep-water running and let my ankle heal, then returned to the road. I raced my first 10K in April and was proud of my performance. I was beginning to enjoy running! Meeting my friends to run really helped. Pushing the stroller made me strong. After the very successful triathlon I desperately needed a new goal.

I decided that I should try a half-marathon. I worked through some overuse injuries but kept on training. As I built up my miles, a friend who knows me as a swimmer asked if I was trading in my mermaid tail for a pair of legs! I decided that the answer was definitely no, but this running thing wasn’t so bad after all.

Well, most of you know how disappointed I was with the half-marathon. It really hurt. I could barely walk for a week and haven’t been able to run more than a couple of miles at a time since October. But, here’s how I know I’ve become a runner, I keep trying! I go out to see if I can run without pain. I set out to walk but start running and stop only if it is painful (in the injury sort of way, not in the hard work way).

But now it’s a new year and what is my goal? I wanted to focus on my swimming but there just aren’t as many swimming races as running races. So, I’m racing just the swim for a relay team in the Olympic triathlon. I would like to swim it faster than I did last year. I registered for an ultra-sprint triathlon in June. I say I want to try and race it really fast, not just finish, but can’t seem to get motivated. Focusing on speed is a completely different kind of training for me… I’m not quite sure how to get started. I’ve always worked on endurance. Longer. Farther. So, perhaps that should be my goal; learning how to train for speed while maintaining my endurance. Hmmm…. how do I do that?

Good advice

2009-01-20T14:38:00.001-08:00

I know many of you read Runner's World, so you may have enjoyed the February issue already. I'm still working through mine. As with previous issues, I've found some of the articles to be thought-provoking (the recent piece on the environmental impact of running shoes is a good example).

This issue has an article on 'toughing it out', which made me smile. I have heard many of these coping mechanisms from my friends, such as the concept of breaking down your remaining mileage into manageable pieces in your mind. But I was heartened to see my trick on the pages before me - that is, to focus on what part of me feels good, rather than on my belly or legs which may be giving me trouble. I might think about how clear my mind feels, or how open my lungs feel. And just like the reader who advised this method, I exclaim these little silver linings in my mind with delight. And you know what? It truly helps me make it through to the end of my toughest runs. It was really nice to see someone else came up with the same solution as I have, and that I am not alone in my struggles.

I have gone through my share of rotten times in life, and in many of them I have felt utterly alone. Whether my troubles were of my own making, or events wholly outside of my control, my usual method for surviving involved cocooning, turning inside, segregating myself from most of the world around me. When I began running, I longed for the extended mental-house-cleaning of long runs, the healing properties of the exhausted body and quiet mind. But I was taken aback by the support of my fellow moms and runners - their open and generous natures, their wisdom and kindness.

It seems simple enough, that women would chat about their lives while running through the park, pushing jog strollers. But when I experienced the net of friendship and support that appeared as if by magic when I joined my current running group, well, I was bowled over by the humbling and unexpected luxury. Even now, when work and other obligations often keep my training plan on opposite schedules from those of my running compatriots, I get their support with just the smallest of requests. I am inspired by them over brief emails and occasional Girls Nights Out. (Yes, I will be making that Hannah Montana cake after all...thank you!)

The strong connections I have forged over the past few years have changed me forever, and like the pleasure I found in reaching the same conclusion as a stranger who reads the same periodical as I do, they fill me with simple joy. They make me more comfortable, to offer my own friendship, and to see the pain and struggles in others when my inner nature cries out to closet myself off from the world.

If I can therefore proffer just this bit of advice for toughing it out through the pain and challenges in your life, it would be to reach out, to be open and to trust. And, oh yeah, keep running.

FRUSTRATION

2009-01-12T05:39:00.000-08:00

I have finally found my motivation and am pretty satisfied with my pace and overall fitness. I am combing out my routine and now have a pretty regular schedule. So today I am so frustrated about my missed workout!! I have a system at night I program the coffee maker, lay out my workout clothes, lay out my girls clothes, pack all our bags, wether it by my gym bag, they're school tote, or pool bag it depends on the day. By now you get my drift, it takes a lot of planning and organizing. I have my workouts timed so that when I finish I get home to get my yougest from her crib get her milk, get her dressed right in time for me oldest to wake up, dress her make them a wholesome breakfast and head out the door in time for whatever we need to get to. Somehow I squeeze in my shower and if I am lucky I can even get some earrings and a little makeup, maybe, maybe even a breakfast other than a granola bar.

My husband works very long hours, I don't know many people who work the hours he does, and tries to train like he does so last night when he went to sleep at 2?3? I just couldn't bring myself to ask him to get the little one at 4 when she started screaming (she is soooo loud!!). I don't usually mind, I actually like it when snuggling her little warm body and feeling her sleepy head on my shoulder but during the week I need to get myself up and dressed at 4:30 with only about a 6 minute leeway, so when she wouldn't go back to sleep at 4:31 I begin to feel, to feel, well almost angry. Normally I come home in a good mood ready to tackle their tantrums, tug-of-wars, sibling rivalry or on good days their giggle matches, whatever the day may bring. Today I found msyelf shouting at them 5 minutes after they woke and I just want to argggg..I don't I just argg...I guess you could say, today I am in a foul mood.

self-confidence

2009-01-10T12:37:00.000-08:00

I went for a run today and was thinking about our dinner last night. When you listen to our conversations, we all express so many insecurities and worries about our own abilities. Why is that?

When you look at our group, we look confident. We should be. We are and impressive group of ladies. We're highly educated, in great shape, quite attractive, seem to all be in strong supportive marriages (I hope so, it sure looks like it from meeting everyone's spouses), have great kids and at least one group of like-minded supportive friends. Many women would be envious of just a few of those things.

Yet we still question our own decisions and actions. We compare ourselves and aren't fast enough, a good enough runner, dedicated enough to our diet or training, etc. This one feels slow, that one is beating herself up over a missed workout, another can't get motivated. We wonder if we are making the right decisions regarding our kids. Is this just a cultural habit; not being good enough. Do we try to be humble and not toot our own horns? Is it some crazy way of bonding, putting ourselves down?

This puzzles me about myself and I see it in others too. I wonder what our kids are learning from us.

I've decided to try something new with the girls. Each day we're going to say two things we like about ourselves or are proud that we did that day. The trick is that you can't say the same thing 2 days in a row. Who knows, maybe it will at least help us to praise ourselves to ourselves.

Training

2009-01-06T10:12:00.000-08:00

Less than one month after the Metric Debacle and related illnesses, I am starting to wonder about my next event. It's not that I like pressure to help me give my best effort, it's actually that I'd like to start thinking about a new race. Shocking, I know! I'm the one usually distancing myself from personal expectations and the stress of everyone knowing about it.

So what should it be? The Clyde's 10K again in April? A fun and no-worry St. Patrick's Day 5K? Coach V suggested the Zooma race in May, but the price and start time have me making the ick face (again). Too bad - I'd love to run in Annapolis some time.

Suggestions for something sort of low-key, but worth striving for?

Come ON

2009-01-01T07:07:00.000-08:00

So with the power out, I missed another run yesterday. I'm really starting to feel like all my previous hard work is slipping away. Ack! Help - I need some encouragement!

Ok, off to run now.

(and happy new year!)

UPDATED: 6 mile tempo run - check. Endorphins - check. Life is good - check.

Ho Ho Ho

2008-12-29T12:05:00.000-08:00

Get any good running stuff for Christmas?

Ouch

2008-12-22T05:36:00.000-08:00

So, on Saturday I got back on the long run wagon. I felt guilty for stopping at 10, considering my last long run had been 14, but I had missed two weeks with being under the weather. I finished around 2pm. I then proceeded to inhale a big plate of spaghetti bolognese before hopping in the car to drive to a concert in northern Virginia.

Mark my words. NEVER DO THAT. Phew, uggggly.

Who needs presents?

2008-12-17T11:04:00.000-08:00

I had such a great run the other morning. It was one of those easy days when you feel as though the motion of putting one foot in front of the other is almost effortless. I was also happy to note no real loss in capacity given recent colds that kept me off my feet for much of the past month.

I love the route around J's school - four miles winding through rolling farmland. I love peering into decaying barns and considering quiet groups of fuzzy cattle as I pass. The morning was lovely, too. Mild, breezy and humid. Something about the air that day reminded me of another very happy time - my trip to Holland.

I was in Rotterdam for my first trip to Europe, visiting a friend from graduate school. My approach to dealing with my first bought of jet lag was, not surprisingly, to go running. It may have been the mist that morning, which clung to everything as I ran around a quiet harbor, or the sunlight that shone bravely through, or even the fact that my body felt as though it were 3am, but everything seemed magical. I did conquer the jet lag, and went on to enjoy other cities in Holland before a car ride through Belgium, and a final stop in Paris alone for several days. Man, talk about magic...

I never would have made that trip, or gone to grad school for that matter, if not for my brother. He has been a huge support for me over my entire life, but most notably in my adult years. Thanks to my natural inclination towards near-Charlie-Brown levels of confidence, it has been my brother's buoying and cajoling that have helped me open up, push myself, and find my own voice.

This support, this buttressing is something my parents could never have given me, and I don't think I'm alone in this experience. I truly believe siblings have a reserved place in our hearts and lives that is unique, both because of shared experiences and a natural love that is as strong as steel.

While my mother questioned at first my safety, and eventually my reasons for wanting to travel alone, my brother cheered loudly from the sidelines. "You'll love it! It's going to be great!" While both parents expected little from me (the youngest, the girl), my brother pressed my hidden ambition buttons. "When are you going back for your MBA? You could TOTALLY do it. You're smarter than most of the people in my [ex-MBA] classes."

And while neither my parents nor brother have witnessed my races (and why should they - it's not like I'm going to win for crying out loud), my brother's voice is always waiting on my voicemail when I get in the car to go home. "How did the run go? Did you make a PR? It looked crowded on TV. The girls were looking for you..." This means the world to me. His interest and show of pride is one of the things that keeps me on the road.

Last week I was running with a good friend, and we were chatting about kids, as usual. At one point in the discussion, my friend wondered for various reasons if it would have been better to just have one child. Without hesitating, I let her know that not only is she a great mother to both her kids, she has given them a gift they will always have - each other.

I know I'm great at stating the obvious, but we as mothers often feel responsible for giving our kids everything in the world to make them happy, now and in the future. The truth is, we can't. Every day I realize I am setting J up so that she can walk away from me and be self-sufficient, and I thank God she and K will always have each other to lean on. I can just picture it...twenty years from now, J will get in her car after a long race, a tough day at work, or a trip abroad. K's voice will be waiting for her on the phone, and they will talk and laugh and make plans to get together. Heck, maybe they'll even complain to each other about me.

Now THAT vision is better than any holiday gift I could ask for. AMEN.

Gratuitous running song du jour

2008-12-15T11:16:00.000-08:00

"What's the soup du jour?"

"That's the soup of the day."

"Mmmmm, sounds great. I'll have that."

Here's your gratuitous running song of the day. It's great to be back!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVBarekpuXg
(sorry about the poor video quality)

doldrums

2008-12-06T11:16:00.000-08:00

It's cold out. It's really, really cold out. And it's too cold in my house. Or too hot (depends where I'm sitting). I can't get motivated to do much of anything. In theory, I want to bake something or go workout or do something, anything. But I can't think of what I want to do. My Christmas shopping is pretty much done. A stomach virus ran through the house last week so I didn't to much of anything and now I'm stuck. I'm in a rut. Yesterday, I forced myself to go swimming. It was good. But today I can't get myself to do anything.

Thank goodness the group is meeting on Wednesday to run and have a playdate! I need this... as long as I can get myself out of the house to go. I need the playdate more than my daughter does. The winter can really get isolating.

Maybe I just have to ride out this "base building and recovery" period until after the new year and then get back on track with my training schedule and some races on the calendar.

Please share. How do you get out of the doldrums? It's not so much that I think I should be training more. I can use some rest but I need to do something! Now that I've typed this, I think I'll bundle up and go out for a walk, at least.

Don't lost heart

2008-11-29T10:12:00.000-08:00

Recovering from my last long training run, feeling good. Song of the day is Fear is Never Boring (as covered by The Bears, circa 1987):

"I'm out on a limb where the fun begins...
I think I see a spark
Hear voices in the dark
They tell me, 'Don't lose heart!'
Step up
Stick to your guns
Let 'er rip
Don't throw that moment away
'Cause fear is never boring..."

(hat tip: Jon)

Guilt

2008-11-24T09:56:00.000-08:00

Have you ever not run a race you signed up for? I haven't, but then again, I haven't run that many races. I am considering bagging my next one, and I feel so guilty!

I've already complained to many of you about this, but I found out I have to fly to Chicago later in the day of my metric marathon. And when I say 'later,' I mean I will have to leave for the airport about 45 minutes after I would get home from the race. Is it possible? Sure. Am I convinced I am bagging it? No, but....

I felt so awful for the rest of the day after my last long training run (14 miles), and have had a cold ever since. I only did about 12 miles last week, in total. I'm just feeling overwhelmed and worried. Help! Tell me what to do!

proud mommy

2008-11-08T15:23:00.000-08:00

The other day I received an e-mail from another team member talking about running with her kids, particularly her daughter. She was thinking about running with her daughter when she gets older and being able to have comfortable time for talking and sharing while they run. Like most of us, her children are young, but she gets excited thinking about training in the future with her daughter. Is this weird, she wondered?

I replied:
You are not at all weird... just in the minority among mommies.

My girls are 4 and 6 and I have the same kinds of thoughts about them.

I get so excited when the girls run or bike. This weekend, at my sister's, we walked to the farm to pick apples. It was a mile each way. Both girls walked the whole way there and my 6 year-old walked back too. I was so impressed.

The next day, they both biked 2 miles while I jogged with them. My younger daughter needed a little pushing with my hand on her back, but did the whole thing and then wanted to ride more. And, on the third day they biked up and down my sister's hill about 10 times. I was so proud and really enjoyed spending time with them this way. In fact, my 4 year-old has been talking about how much she did all week!

I just hope it stays a way of life for them and they don't feel pushed by me. I want them to think this is normal and not weird. I want my girls to learn the love of running and biking, that I have and the value of it mentally, physically and for building relationships. I'd love for us all to do a triathlon together someday. I, like another friend, am counting the years until this will be possible. I want them to know about goal-setting and to feel the satisfaction of working toward and attaining their goals. Running is wonderful for this.

I'm so glad I've found "weird" friends (from SMR) who also think this is a good and normal thing to do with and want for our daughters (and sons). I am thankful my husband is "weird" in this way too, otherwise my girls might not learn to value physical activity. We are in good company and, I would argue, are doing a very important thing for our children.

Long and slow

2008-11-07T19:14:00.000-08:00

I am currently training for a longer race, and part of me is nervous as all get-out. I mean, wouldn't you be frightened if Aggie told you it was a really hilly and challenging race, when she never says that about anything? And then after a pause, she follows it up with, "But it's a great race!" in a chipper tone. Like that really helps.

Another part of me is looking forward to it, and genuinely enjoys the long runs in preparation. My current training style allows long runs to be paced slowly. I like to think of it as my "I could run forever like this and never get tired" pace. Sure, I'm totally worn out when I'm done (possibly because I tend to speed up over the last few miles), but at least I am breathing easy enough to sing along with whatever the Gods of Shuffle Play are serving up, in loud and off-key tones.

Of late I have taken this gift of lengthy, quiet personal time, running in relative comfort outside in possibly the most beautiful season of the year, with great pleasure. I have avoided ruminating over anxieties, and chosen instead to turn off the grinding in my chest and buzzing in my brain for the first time in years. I have been more successfully quiet in my mind on these long runs than in most of my yoga sessions over the last decade.

Until Halloween, this unplugged feeling remained linked solely to the time when my feet slapped the road and the wind kissed my face. On Halloween morning I loaded J in the car, along with her costume, snacks and drinks for her class, treats for the class's trick-or-treating parade, and my Blackberry-style phone. The conference call that began on the way to school was brief, and I was able to sign off shortly before circle time.

Everyone was already seated as I approached the group. The teacher's voice was energetic and kind as she began The Good Mornings - a roll call, where the kids are asked to respond politely when their name is called, and to be quiet and still otherwise. You can imagine this as the equivalent to trig/analyt for the 4-year-old crowd.

I stepped gingerly around the circle to find J in her assigned spot near the window in the back corner. She was looking up at me, face aglow with the combination of excited expectancy of my appearance, and pride that her own Mommy was Helping Parent for the day. Though my mind was still whirling with the to-do list from my call, I happily settled down, legs crossed just behind her. She scooted back and sat in my lap without looking at me, and we were connected again as we have been so many times since the day she was born.

"Good morning, Juliet," said Ms. Gail.

"Good morning," J replied shyly, leaning back against my chest.

I love these days at school with her. I can see her interact with friends in a way I never experience around the house or with neighbors. And I can immerse myself in a pack of happy kids for a brief period of time, showering them with compliments, playing without consciousness as someone else directs the activities. But today was a bit different.

J wouldn't let me out of her sight, or let me play with other kids. She was clingy in an unusual way, as if sensing I was stretched a bit thin, tired of sharing me with other responsibilities. There were several hushed discussions between us at the outskirts of the room. Be good, I insisted. Don't you want to enjoy the day? Settle down, everything is fine. What's wrong with you today?

Suddenly it was time to put on costumes, time to file outside for the parade. I found my neighbor and we chatted, complaining about husbands and other inanities. I'd forgotten my camera, and asked another mom distractedly if I could get prints as the kids posed in a group on the church steps. The chatting continued as the kids marched by, fairly prancing in their get-ups, collecting candy from grandparents, moms and dads. Here was J - a vague smile on her face as she tried to keep up with her best friend. She's overwhelmed, I thought.

Then just as suddenly I was cleaning up, vacuuming play rugs, stuffing crafts into tote bags and collecting trash. J sat quietly in the library area until I was done. Before long we were in the car on the way home, and I watched her in my rearview mirror. She gazed out at the passing trees, fiery in their color now that they'd 'taken their green jackets off' as I like to say.

Something about the day, the weather, the excitement overcame me then. I didn't just relate to J, struggling as an adult to see things through her eyes. I was her. I felt what it meant to be a child, sometimes a little uneasy and shy among peers. I felt the thrill of a holiday like Halloween - the whole day spreading out before me like one gift after another to be opened. The stress of managing everything fell away, and time seemed to slow down. And just as when I run without pressuring myself, I realized that every day for J is lived long and slow, and it is filled with small joys. Because feeling good enough to me means juggling lots of tasks, I was in fact stretched thin. And I had missed that she had indeed been overwhelmed that morning, and just needed me there to hold her. Nothing else - and it was just that simple.

Mistress of the obvious, aren't I? But I never actually felt it before, and I am thankful that the feeling came, however belatedly. I have longed to be more intuitive and open, and the blessing of this Halloween's realization stay with me. Hugs for both J and K can come more frequently and easily. Mornings don't have to feel like Groundhog Day. I look at J and see more often the simplicity in how she deals with her world. If I learn from her, from how she lives as a child every day, I can be a better parent. Success needn’t be measured by how much I can do at one time. More of my life can be filled with the quiet happiness of the run without with the stopwatch.

Pleasure in the written word

2008-10-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

I like to read. I like reading while I am eating. I like reading while on vacation. I like reading at night before I fall asleep. I read to stay on top of current events, and to escape from them. Clever turns of phrase, complex vocabulary and dry analyses, colorful descriptions and subtle emotional studies bring me deep happiness. And I often find surprising coincidences between my current readings and events in my life. This seemingly cosmic link happens with music as well, but that will be a post for another day.

In my twenties, I earned a master's degree while working full time. Over the course of those several years, I had no time to read for pleasure. Afterward, I promised myself I would read the widest variety of material I could find, making up for missed classics as well as consuming popular books of the times. And what a joy it has been. I've tackled everything from The Kite Runner and The DaVinci Code to Passage to India and The Divine Comedy.

As this summer waned, I completed a lengthy biography of Benjamin Franklin, Freakonomics, and The Other Boelyn Girl. I am now returning to the old classic, The Call of the Wild.

The vivid descriptions of life lived at its most base level are especially appealing when one is training for a long race. I feel connected with the main character as he transforms from a creature living softly and easily, to someone stripped of all pretenses - sometimes including pride - to face pain and primal instincts while reaching for a place in his world, for the accomplishment of arduous but mundane responsibilities, as well as for great achievements. The following passage was particularly striking to me, read the night after completing my second half-marathon:

"There is an ecstacy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstacy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstacy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad on a stricken field and refusing quarter; and it came to Buck, leading the pack, sounding the wolf-cry, straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight. He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time. He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew and that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars and over the face of dead matter that did not move."

May you all find the ecstacy, the perfect joy of movement and the surge of life on your run today. And when you're done, tell me your list of the top 3 books I must read in my life, as I am almost done with this one.

Fear of failing

2008-09-30T10:12:00.000-07:00

It's such a common concern, isn't it? Less than two weeks and counting until my half marathon and I am feeling the familiar panic whispering in my ear, growing louder off in the distance. Butterflies in my stomach threaten to morph into elephants of worry.

What if.... I don't even know. Of course I'll finish. But what if I do poorly? Finish slower than last year? Experience pain and exhaustion due to being under-trained? You could say these worries are unfounded. I've followed a respected training regimen, and can count on one hand the number of runs I've missed in the last six months. But still. Even though I have run this exact race before, it feels like a nebulous thing out in the future, and unlike my daily efforts around the house and with work, I can't seem to control it's outcome with sheer force of will.

It's not unlike my current adventure with J. I have been putting it off for a year. I've been dreading it, my mind filled with blurry vignettes of crying and whining and resisting. And then imagine how J will react. Yes, I'm talking about ditching the pull-ups for overnight. I've leaned heavily on my pediatricians' prediction that J would begin to produce dry pull-ups some time over the course this year. I'll just know when the time is right. Hmmm. But no matter when we try it, I will be the one woken up multiple times to change sheets and clothes.

What if it takes more than, say, three nights? What if we have to go back and try again some other time? I'm not one of those supermoms who can shrug off interrupted sleep and go on with her days unscathed. I'm grumpy and prone to petulance as it is, let alone after getting up 3 times a night. What if I lose my cool some night at 2 A.M. and grouse at her when I mean to be encouraging and kind?

I can't control how quickly she'll take on this new skill, and in response I have let her go for a long time, possibly keeping her from her potential. I am less and less encouraged by friends telling tales of similar experiences. "Oh, don't worry! So-and-so's cousin kept her kid in diapers til he was 10!" Uh, I don't know if I want J to be lumped in with those sort of anomalies.

So obviously the right thing to do is to just let her go through it already. We'll all be better off for it. Seriously, think of all the money I'll save. Oh yeah, and my daughter won't be sleeping in her own pee any more. Last night we only woke up twice, but there seemed to be no light going off for J - no indication she'd attempted to 'hold it' or even that she'd woken up prior to the completion of the act. Today we'll stop all liquids at 6 P.M. and see if that helps. Also, I've been gently (honestly!) coaching her all day.

Like with my training plan, knowing my approach with J's new project helps take the edge off my anxiety. But the only way to get there is to go through it. J is oblivious to the significance of her new big development, while Jon and I cheer her on from the sidelines. And hopefully both of them will be cheering for me on the sidelines when I cross the finish line a week from Saturday.

Schadenfreude

2008-09-20T18:34:00.000-07:00

The first day of preschool I felt a little like I do on race mornings except there was no excitement. Nervous, uncertain, tired from waking up too early, mentally check listing the clothes I have laid out the night before, planning an appropriate breakfast.....only this time it wasn't for me but for my little precious girl.

I did squeeze in a 6 mile run at 5:30, which I realize now kept me rational that morning. I then made it to the grocery store and had a hot breakfast for everyone before we tore out the door to get her there in time. I will always remember the clothes, her plum colored jeans, her new plaid-plum "school" shoes, the smell of chamomile and lavender in her soft, wispy hair tied up in bows that matched her outfit, and the lovely sing-songy sound of her voice as she chattered to herself and her younger sister on the short drive there.

They have a "drop-off" system at her pre-school which if you ask me is a little cruel, you pull up to the curb and before the poor little ones know what has happened someone has popped open the door unsnapped their buckles and is walking them into the building. I was very inconsiderate to the lady queuing up behind me and I stayed watching my little girl as she walked away holding some total strangers' hand. She never looked back. I felt like I had swallowed glass and it was about to shatter inside me. I had gone over this moment in my mind so many times, how I would squeeze her hand and whisper reassuring things, hold her tight, squeezing her, telling her how much I loved her and instead I found myself gripping the steering wheel as I slowly pulled away from my firstborn child. I wasn't the only one feeling a great sense of loss, my youngest started wailing when she saw her sister taken out of the car, confused and probably concerned.

I go for a run every morning now on the days before I have to take her to preschool. It doesn't ease the pain but I know I will be up at 4:30 anyway, thinking about her, sad that there will be no one with her constantly to answer her multiple why's or notice when she is a little frightened or uncertain when new things come her way. I miss her, it's painful to me, we have never spent any significant time apart, I don't have relatives in the area and only now that she has turned 3 do I even hire a baby sitter, even so my husband and I haven't gone out for a full evening.

I know that the true overwhelming sadness that wells up inside me is because this is just the very beginning of the letting go, that from now on I'll have less and less insight into her life, what she said, what was said to her, how she reacted, the emotions playing across her innocent, guileless face. I don't think anyone can read her like I do, can preempt her moods but I have to let her go or it wouldn't be healthy for either of us, but I have to confess I hate it. I can only try to be there for her when she comes home to me. I feel icy cold all over when I realize that soon she'll be gone from me all day, every day.

I am trying to come around and focus on my racing again. I know in the long run this is the right thing to do for both of us. I suppose I could have held her back for a year or home school her but she is too smart for this, she deserves more. I have Army coming up and although it's too late to get in any speed work I know it'll be a much better running experience than last year. The only thing is now a bit of the excitement is gone when I realize it means a Sunday morning away from my little preschooler. I had planned on doing more races this year but now I just want to spend more time with them, soak them up, roll around on the carpeted floor in the sunshine giggling with them.

The running will come, more and more when I am on my own, and now I enjoy the running for the sheer pleasure of it,it's funny I actually like getting out when it's still dark and slipping into the house before they are awake. It's no longer about PR's or moving up the results list but about feeling good so when it Is race morning, (few and far between) it is exciting again.

I just Noticed...

2008-09-16T17:34:00.001-07:00

Looking back at the blogs, I see that my really good runs are when I run with my SMR teammates; and without the stroller. Veronica, you're right, running is a social thing! I can't deny it any longer.
Thanks, team!

training plans revisited

2008-09-16T17:16:00.001-07:00

Once again I'm amazed at how well a good training plan works. The incremental increases really add up and before I know I'm able to comfortably (read slowly) run further than ever before. The thing is, when running according to a plan, I have more good running days than bad. And, when I do have a bad day, it is usually followed by a rest day or a slow recovery run or a light cross training day. The planner knows how I'm going to feel and plans accordingly. It's so cool. I really want to learn how to make my own plans but, with so many plans available, I start to think, "Why bother?"

I have a plan that is working for me as I train for the half-marathon. But, I've added my own twist, running with the stroller (and the child inside, of course). That's not in any plan I've ever seen. It's really working for me. It is amazing what the extra resistance does. When I go for a long run without the stroller (and said child), I feel like I am flying. Running, finally, sometimes feels almost effortless... at least for a couple of miles. And that is huge for me because, I AM NOT A RUNNER! Remember?

Last weekend I did an 8-mile run with the Striders and some SMR friends. I felt really good. During and after that run I went from thinking, "Ugh, why did I ever sign up for a half?" to thinking, "I can actually do this!" I always knew I would finish but now I'm feeling like I will finish without the agony... just a bit of pain. Again, thanks to a PLAN.

A love letter

2008-09-07T18:36:00.000-07:00

I know I should get over it. There are so many aspects of our evolving relationship that I can look forward to, but... I miss you.

I was at the park Wednesday, and the void of your absence was palpable. Much stronger than I anticipated. It felt good to run alone - don't get me wrong. Hills were easier. My mind could wander rather than focus on you, as I am wont to do. But really, what is the point of being there if I can't share the experience of nature, velocity, and joy with you? I wanted to bring your attention to every bird that called out, every tree and flower I passed. I longed for the smile approaching walkers and runners would reserve for you alone, the smile that used to make me feel honored to be your entourage, and pleasingly invisible. But my time as your chauffeur is done.

When we began, you were so small. I used to struggle to keep you focused, to keep you from pulling off your socks and shoes, and chucking them out of the jog stroller. I was struggling, too, to focus on what I was supposed to be doing as a mom. I was there to get back into running, to renew my passion for pushing myself physically, wasn't I? Much more gratifying was the interaction we shared, you and I.

At 2, I could discuss with you the sounds and colors around us. I could keep you entertained with songs and snacks. Your absorption of everything I introduced to you inspired me, and made me proud. I marveled at your expanding vocabulary, and your ability to process and describe the world around you in an increasingly complex way.

At 3 we struggled past your disinterest in potty training, coupled with your fear of loud sounds. Who thought auto-flush toilets operating with the force of a jet engine were a good idea? Not you and I, certainly. But we were buoyed by the experience of our weekly interludes. The tactile thrill of leaves, sticks and rocks gathered around the lake loop. The confidence garnered through mastering playground challenges. The slowly-evolving social skills fostered in the safe net of a circle of wonderful friends.

Already, then, you were preparing to move on.

This summer, you were 4, and I understood that I would be losing you for the coming school year. Your shifting schedule seemed innocuous at first. No more Wednesdays with you? At least we'll have the summers. When you began riding your bike, favoring independent mobility over the mindless submission of crawling into the stroller, I couldn't believe my good fortune. No more pushing? A new partner in exercise, rather than an appendage to be managed? What luck!

But this Wednesday, without you, I was desolate. You see, this is not just my loss of a weekly companion. This is the loss of my BABY. Sure, your clothing size may still have a 'T' appended to it, but you have left all vestiges of baby-hood behind. I am proud of you beyond words, and grateful for our time together to this point. The rest of my life will be dotted with milestones such as this, and they may or may not get easier. And I vow to move forward - to keep running at your side rather than pushing you. But this day, right now, I miss you.

Love,
Mommy

Apropos of nothing, part II

2008-08-31T09:41:00.001-07:00

I have another post coming about running, but I just had to get this out there.

Two hours into our return journey from The Best OBX Vacation To Date, about 20 minutes after a stop for coffee and brownies, the Knock Knock jokes started.

J: "Knock knock!"
Me: "Who's there?"
J: "Tree!"
Me: "Tree who?"
J: "SQUIRREL!!"
(uncontrollable laughter from all parties involved)

Jon: "Knock knock."
J: "Who's there?"
Jon: "Road."
J: "Road who?"
Jon: "Road comma why did the chicken cross the."
(uncontrollable laughter from all parties except K - "Why is that funny? I don't get it!")

You should try this kind of relaxing paired with caffeine some time. It was great.

A wonderful run

2008-08-23T17:29:00.000-07:00

I haven't had a good run in weeks.

This morning my alarm went off at 6 so I could meet the group to run at 6:45. My clothes were already out. The day was clear and not even 60 degrees. I ate a yogurt and left the house without anyone stirring or calling MOMMY!

As I drove, I remembered how much I like the early morning workouts that rarely happen any more. The world is quiet and seems fresh. My brain isn't yet clouded with the events of the day and I can just enjoy what I am doing. And then for the rest of the day a feel great about what has already been accomplished... there's no training hanging over me waiting to happen.

Without the girls, I got to the park 5 minutes early. I felt good and was ready to run. My 6.5 miles was wonderful and not painful. I stayed at a conversational pace and got to talk with friends... and not just about the kids. I didn't even feel guilty about leaving them home and my husband having to get up with them. I never once wondered if I was being gone too long... I'm not sure if I even thought of them! It was a totally selfish run. All this was what I needed to get motivated and feel positive again.

I now realize that a big part of my last 6 or so miserable weeks was the midsummer heat. Next year, I just have to remember how much that kicks me in the butt.

Two sides of a coin

2008-08-20T17:57:00.000-07:00

I recently read an article in Runner's World about why we run and endure pain, since for most of us, most of the time - running hurts. The piece made me laugh a bit, because I'd never really thought of it in detail before. When discussing running, I often find myself musing wryly, "Eh, you either love it or you hate it." Mostly, people who hate it do so because it...well...doesn't feel that good. So why would anyone love it? I never bothered to explain, because I didn't feel I had to. If you don't get it, you never will.

Or will you?

A few days after digesting the article, I was running the neighborhood with both girls on their bikes. I pushed the little one as she petered out on one hill (come on, don't stop - I'm going to push you - one...two...threeeeeeee!) and shouted encouragement to the older one zig-zagging just ahead of us (you can do it! just make it to that next mailbox and it gets flatter!). The little one, as always, was happy and in the moment as little ones tend to be. The older one, as always, was humoring me while waiting patiently for the whole effort to be over. I wondered how I could get K to see the joy in the effort, the payoff for the pain. Clearly, my approach to date - get her out there to experience it, encourage her efforts like mad, and have her watch my races to witness the buzz and the spirit of competition - hadn't done the trick.

Is it too late? Have I lost my chance? Do I have any influence on a generation who has access to everything with little to no effort expended on the part of the individual? I worry about a lack of perspective, and ability to value that which is difficult to attain. I worry about a child's ability to persevere in the face of pain. I should know better, because K has been through a lot and come out a strong and happy girl, but... I worry.

I practice my speeches. I want to say that nothing worth having is easy...but don't want to sound depressing. I want to say that what feels easy and good will not always be what is right. Don't spend too much time in the sun. Don't try a cigarette even when your best friend, who you know is a nice person, says it's no big deal. Save your money because the tech-y gizmo you MUST have because everyone else owns one already is not worth 2 years' chore money. Listen to me even though I am even boring myself with this diatribe.

I come up empty though I suspect I am on the right track. Perhaps it is all about developmental stages. A capability to see beyond the horizon. At 10, K may not be able to grasp any of this, especially yesterday as she climbed our biggest hill with a face contorted in pain and a yelp of, "It HURTS!" Perhaps I have no control over the source of my fears anyway.

But just maybe I can show K what I feel and know at the very marrow of my being. Someday when she's feeling down, or even when she's feeling secure and open to something new, I could try it. Come running with me. A few minutes, a quiet path, with or without conversation. She could see it as an anxiety-reliever or a joy producer. She could feel beyond the burn in the lungs, the hips and quads to the flush of accomplishment. More than any material acquisition or acquiescence of character to the whims of the moment, she could feel the depth of calm in her soul. And yes, the turn of her understanding gaze towards mine would be so fulfilling...

Okay, alright, I know. She'll figure it out on her own, just like we all do. But I won't give up hope that I can offer an alternative to the sometimes insipid, underachieving nature of society today. By sharing my fears, goals and exhilarations relating to running on a daily basis, I hope to open a window in K's world (and hopefully keep an avenue of connection between us) as she unfurls from a beautiful preteen girl to a capable woman with the world at her feet.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Go with the Flow

2008-08-05T17:06:00.000-07:00

This is going to take a lifetime for me to learn. If I'm trying to be in control of something that is beyond my control, I am just going to get frustrated and angry.

When I'm in a rush, the more I push, the more the world pushes back at me. When I try rushing the girls out of the house they just seem to move more slowly. I get frustrated and angry and they seem to get even slower. When I'm in a hurry to get somewhere, I seem to hit all the red lights and traffic... the same ones I hit every other day that don't bother me.

I'm pretty sure it's just my perception that makes it seem that the world is pushing back at me. Therein lies the lesson. Sometimes, it is better to just relinquish control and go with the flow.

I am trying to learn to apply this to my running (and the rest of my life) but it is a hard lesson to learn.

This year I have run more than at any other time in my life and I have also been dealing with more injuries. When I sprained my ankle, I ran in the pool to keep up. Later I increased my mileage too quickly and had a painful heel and aggravated that ankle again. I backed off, rested and it healed. Well, now I have a painful hip from ITB syndrome. Another overuse injury. I have been reluctant to back off because I'm traing for the Baltimore Half. It really hurts now. Ice, rest and stretching are what I must do.

Listen to the body. Work with what is available. Go with the flow. Sometimes it helps to alter (notice, I didn't say lower) our expectations and let the control go a little bit. It isn't easy but it sure does make life feel a lot easier.

Maybe there's a lesson in here somewhere

2008-07-28T13:17:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. I have run less in the last month than any other period in the last two years. By this I mean I have only done 2-3 runs/week. I can't believe I am even admitting this, though some of you may have already guessed at my new slacker persona based on my missing person's act at the regular Wednesday group runs.

There are lots of reasons for my poor showing, some of them even fairly legitimate. I was still feeling guilty when it occurred to me, though, that every run I have completed over this time I have thoroughly enjoyed. Yes. Every time Jon asked, "How was it?" when I would slam in through the kitchen door, or trudge up from the basement, I would find myself answering, "Great!" without missing a beat. I even ran more last Wednesday at the end of the day because pushing J around the lake on her bike just one lap made me only want to run, well, more. Not because of guilt, but because it felt really good.

Can you imagine? A whole (almost) month without one day of feeling like a running failure. Without feeling nauseous and waiting for the agony to just be OVER, for the love of all that is holy. A great expanse of time of feeling surprisingly capable and simply satisfied.

I don't want to rest on my proverbial laurels, and have in all likelihood jinxed myself now that I have written this post. And hey, I haven't actually done a track workout since the 4th of July, so this might all be a lie to myself, since I've avoided my personal weakest type of training. But I just thought you should know. Maybe less is more after all!

New Running Shoes

2008-07-15T17:45:00.000-07:00

I hate buying shoes. I have a size 5 1/2 foot and the stores don't stock shoes in that size, so I have to order online without trying anything on.

I'd love to find a pair of running shoes I love and just keep ordering them but you all know what happens... the manufacturer discontinues or changes the style, especially if you love it.

So, today I got my new pair of Asics Nimbus-9's kindly delivered by the UPS lady. I have the 8's and the 10's are already out. I wish I could say that I loved the 8's but I'm not sure that I've ever had a running shoe in my life that I love. I LOVE my Birkenstocks. Nothing like that with sneakers. But Randy with his infinite logic convinced me that I really do like the Nimbus and that they are a good shoe for me. Anyway, I haven't even tried on the new 9's yet.

Why not? Well, I'd have to walk to the other end of the house for socks and take out the insoles to put my orthotic insoles in and then lace them up. Also, I have another pair, Sauconys, ordered that is due to arrive on Friday. The Sauconys were suggested by a store salesperson because that store could ship them in my size but not the Asics. So, what's the rush? I can't wear these until I decide that I am going to keep them and not the Sauconys.

Anyway, the funny thing about these Nimbus-9's is the color. Where I ordered the store only had gold in my size... ok, not my first choice. Well, they arrived and should have been described as silver and gold filigree on a field of white. I think I could wear these to a prom or a wedding even. Randy thinks I'm crazy and says they're nice and not at all "fancy" or "girlie". I disagree.

But hey, what's not to love about a shoe you can wear to the ball you will have to run home from when the clock strikes twelve? No Cinderella here... I'm prepared.

Perspective

2008-07-13T11:16:00.000-07:00

Want to finish a long run on the treadmill without complaining? Do so while watching an installment of Ken Burn's The War.

Fleeting

2008-07-09T06:24:00.000-07:00

"I wish it was time to go to the Outer Banks," K declares, longing for our annual trip that occurs at the end of summer vacation. She is sitting at the kitchen island, waiting for lunch. Jon is standing by the sink with his back to her, slicing a nectarine that fills the air with a perfume lush like summer encapsulated.

"Don't wish time away," Jon admonishes (as I would have), then softens and says, "I know. You're excited about it, aren't you?" He understands her real point, intuitive father that he is.

But we all are guilty of skipping across time in our minds, aren't we? It's a natural human trait. And it is right around this time of year - just after the 4th of July - that I feel the pull of time speeding up. In my mind it will be August tomorrow, then August will end and then summer will be over. The days are getting shorter! It will start getting cold again, before I know it! The leaves will fall of the trees! Stomach flu season is just around the corner!! This is the time I long for all year, and I spend a good 2/3rds of it emotionally preparing myself for its demise. Why can't I just live in The Now, for the love of GOD?!

I long for my runs, too. Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to get out before it became too hot, before work really kicked in, and yet... I spent most of the time thinking about what needed to be done once I got home. Sure, it motivated me to go faster, but why couldn't I lose myself in the pleasure of exercise, and of being alone for a little while? I don't have an answer. In my busiest times I am unable to control the speed of my thoughts, the anxiety that boils through my veins, even as I can control my pumping legs and arms.

I spent the next 8 hours hunched over. Hunched over my laptop. Hunched over my steering wheel for a lightning-fast trip to the grocery. Hunched over my lunch. My eyes had hardly blinked, my right knee bounced incessantly. And suddenly the day was over.

It was happy hour on the patio when I was reminded that time is a priceless commodity, one that I shouldn't let slip through my fingers so easily. I sat on the sofa, staring numbly at the clouds. Jon was up on the deck muttering over the ribs smoking away on the grill. Juliet worked on a coconut-flavored popsicle, her hair half fallen out of its elastic after the day's romps across the grass and through the sprinkler. Her back was to me as she danced to the music tumbling out of the outdoor speaker, making her way under the deck and over to consider the tomatoes growing in great profusion (thank you Suzanne!) by the steps. She was completely oblivious to how beautiful she is. My eyes unglazed and my stomach unclenched as I looked at her. I felt the familiar warmth in my chest, the familiar need to smother her with kisses. And then it happened.

PLOP! A lump of brown fuzz flew out of the robin's nest, nestled lo these many weeks on a joist under the deck, and landed gracelessly on the grass. The baby robin stood up and cheeped loudly, gazing around with one plume of baby feather sticking out among its new growth of adult feathers. It's tail still short, its belly still speckled, it stumbled through the grass a moment before it took the air and was gone. It was the last one to leave the nest. Miraculously, we had also witnessed the other two making a similar journey earlier in the day.

When the first baby flew/fell onto a nearby step and hopped onto a railing, the mother robin had squawked loudly in protest, flying from one side of the deck to the other. Or was it encouragement? J had been in the baby pool while I tapped madly on my keyboard at the bistro table in the shade. I ushered her quickly around the other side of the house so the mother could address the new development as she thought necessary without fear of us. When the second baby fell directly onto the deck steps I worried for a moment, telling everyone to freeze (Jon was home and had joined me under the deck with his laptop...tap tap tap). The mother robin sounded her alarm from a nearby holly tree, and suddenly baby number 2 was up and gone.

I don't think I even saw the mother when the 3rd baby disappeared. I looked up for Jon. "That's it. They're all gone," I said. The larger meaning weighed on me before I even finished my sentence. Yes, the cycle of life is positive. But it is always accompanied by loss. True, I will always be able to remember the girls laying on their bellies on the deck, looking through the slats at the babies in the nest below. And there will probably even be another nest next year. Will I remember it amongst my worries and fears? It is solely up to me, isn't it?

So today I vow that I will stop regularly to drink in the moment, whether in the midst of gratifying work, loving play, or happy exercise. I am so fortunate, and I don't want to miss a moment of the precious gifts that add up to my life.

Some Words About Chocolate

2008-06-23T18:26:00.000-07:00

The Surgeon General has just announced that the following warnings will be printed on chocolate labels beginning next month.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Eating chocolate during PMS or pregnancy is likely to lead to unhealthy weight gain.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Chocolate is know to be an addictive substance.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Eating chocolate can impair decision making ability leading to further consumption of and addiction to chocolate.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Chocolate is goood stuff!!!!!

The downhill side of spring

2008-06-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

June is like a Friday night filled with promise and romance. A sweet 16 dressed in her prettiest cotillion dress. The lush blanket of the her hillsides are dotted with a profusion of the world's finest productions. Gone are the chilly daffodils and tulips. Spent are the early-to-bed peonies and irises. Here now are the day lilies, roses and Japanese dogwoods. Spring's scent is heavy with honeysuckle and fresh-mown grass, heady like all adolescence. In her arms I ponder, a fast 3 or an easy-going 5? Yes, definitely a leisurely 5.

As I push up the first hill, the warm air wafts up from the asphalt, pulling at my feet, my ankles, my calves. But its force is neither harsh nor overwhelming. The air above is so cool that even as my lungs work, the most minimal of sweats is wicked away almost immediately from my brow. I fall easily into the rhythm of movement, matched with my measured breathing before me, and my swishing ponytail behind me.

The neighborhood has settled into the early summer. Beds are beginning to look relaxed and shabby as the novelty of weeding has worn off. Children are barely discernible beneath pads and helmets, circling the cul de sacs on bikes and scooters while mapping out game rules in hushed tones, sending out the occasional warning cry, "CAR!"

And cars do come. They pass with windows thoughtlessly rolled down to the evening's warm silky air. Even I take for granted the hours of light remaining in this stolen time before dinner. An easy 5 could easily turn into 6 or more miles if I had the time.

As I make the turn and begin to track back into the streets that lead home, I marvel at the skies above my suburban outpost dropped in the midst of rolling farmlands. Dark rain clouds scuttle by just north of us. Changing skies. Meanwhile gauzy rays of sunlight spill from the blue between clouds that appear like gray and white tumbled bedsheets above me.

I climb the last real hill on my return journey and feel the added pull of gravity. My chin and gaze tip down. "What are you looking at? Don't look down. Look ahead." I shift my focus instead to the stop sign at the top of the hill and feel the cool air once again easily filling my chest. My mind whispers, "Quiet. Calm." And as I ease down the road to Sleepy Hollow, the breeze that pushes up to meet me fairly roars in my ears like a cheering crowd around a finish line.

If a run on the downhill side of spring doesn't inspire you to wax poetic, I don't know what will.

Random thoughts

2008-06-13T11:40:00.000-07:00

...from my recent road run.

- Keep your head down after the tractor trailer passes, or else you'll lose your hat.
- I like to yell in my mind, 'Chew up that road!' as I run up a long hill.
- What happened to the car, and it's owner, that belong to the pile of glass on the side of the road?
- Nothing makes me forget that I am running like working through parenting dilemmas in my head.
- Why is there only ever one shoe on the side of the road?
- I hope someone is checking on the presumably elderly owner of the house who has had the phone books sitting by the mailbox for 2 weeks, and has the brown Christmas wreath on the front door.
- I like to think people passing me in their cars think something like, 'Wow, that is so cool that she is out running on this hot day.' It makes me run taller and stronger.

What randomly goes through your head on a run?

Another million dollar idea

2008-06-08T06:51:00.000-07:00

My perfect day (the rated G version, anyway) would go something like this:

- Sleep until 9 a.m.,
- Have J & Kate wake up at the same time and request an easily microwavable breakfast,
- Eat cheerios with strawberries, drink OJ and coffee (this happens anyway) while indulging in guilt-free reading of news on internet (guilt-free? this is not possible even in a dream scenario, I know),
- Ride bikes or run around with the girls outside for an hour, after which time they entertain themselves, cleaning up all messes made without being asked, while I...
- Do 90 minutes of yoga, or go to some nearby school and play 90 minutes of tennis with Jon, after which I am handed cold water and proceed to sit and stare into space for 30 minutes
- Make the girls' lunches,
- Eat peanut butter and jelly on Ritz crackers (this happens anyway) while indulging in guilt-free reading of news on the internet,
- Play with the girls outside in the sprinkler/baby pool/slip 'n slide for another hour, after which time they entertain themselves and so on, while...
- I somehow have the energy and inclination to do a medium distance run - outside in perfect weather - followed by weights and muscle work (and a quick shower)
- Make an elaborate dinner, for which I magically have all the ingredients, that the girls actually eat and enjoy,
- Sit on the sofa with a glass of wine and watch while Jon plays with the girls until bedtime,
- Put the girls to bed,
- Soak in a long bath, then read a book till I fall asleep.

Notice that there is no mention of me cleaning up after meals or helping anyone in the bathroom. You can also assume that I am dressed in something stylish and flattering for all these activities. And that I have recently had my hair highlighted and trimmed.

Aside from the subtraction of my usual 2 hours/day washing something at the kitchen sink, there might actually be time for all this summer fun if there was a new invention introduced to my household. I am talking about a special machine that would sit just above the doorway. This machine would sense when the girls are about to go outside, and would spray them thoroughly with sunscreen, put the appropriate clothes and/or shoes on them, and insure they will put on helmets and pads for protection-specific activities. But wait! There's more! Put that checkbook away! This machine would also rinse and dry the girls off before they come back in the house. Oh, and it puts clean clothes on them and washes the dirty ones. And remembers to use Spray 'n Wash.

Ok, now I'm getting crazy. But can you IMAGINE the POSSIBILITIES?! Maybe I wouldn't have the 4 hours I want for exercise, but I might be able to do something for more than 20 minutes at a time. Or complete a thought. And just imagine what it would do for my neighbor with 6 kids. Her laundry issues alone would make my hair fall out if I were in charge over there.

So, if you know any good engineer types who could help us make this dream a reality, I promise to split the proceeds with you. Any takers?

Amazing

2008-05-25T18:37:00.000-07:00

Wow what a beautiful day today was. You can't ask for more perfect weather. After tons of yard work yesterday, Randy and the girls and I decided to go for a hike today. Actually, it was the girls' idea. We went for a walk in the woods at the McKeldin Area of Patapsco Valley State Park. If you've never been there, it's worth a visit. There is a flat trail that follows along the river and there are some cool cascades and rapids to see.

The 6-year old had on her new Camelback and loved controlling her own water while the nearly 4-yr old kept wishing she had one too. (Birthday in 2 weeks) Once we got going, the complaining stopped and the girls had lots of fun. Luckily, there was a bathroom along the way where the trail crossed a park road. We even had some Luna bars for snack.

Here's what's amazing. We hiked nearly 3 miles! Yes, it was mostly flat. It took about an hour and half and the girls didn't complain or whine or drag their feet. They got to climb on some rocks and see some fish. They were able to do it without a problem and then spend 15 minutes on the playground, too!

The younger one immediately fell asleep in the car going home.

Kids can do this kind of thing and will and they enjoy it.... but we've got to start them young! I'm really looking forward to our Ultra-mini trathlon.

Apropos of Nothing - Salad Mix

2008-05-25T05:40:00.000-07:00

Who knew sweet basil and baby arugula tasted so good together (topped at our house with an herby balsamic vinaigrette)? And if you knew, I'm embarrassed, but you should have told me.

training partners

2008-05-23T14:25:00.000-07:00

After the race, my brain was full of thoughts about what I wanted to write but my body wasn't about writing. Now that I'm ready to write, the thrill of the race has worn off a bit and some of the thoughts escape me (or is that just the rapid approach of 40?).

All along I've been saying that my best training partner has been my now nearly 4 year old daughter. As I do longer runs, she is content in the stroller for a longer time. I just don't understand those moms who claim that their child just won't stay in the stroller... what's the priority here. Really, she has been wonderful. So has Randy, arranging schedules so I could get in my training. Checking with me before making plans. That kind of support is awesome.

As I waited for my wave, I was talking with a 50 something man who was with his family. His two daughters clearly adored him and his wife was there too. I missed my family and was wishing they were there. Just like at Clyde's when almost everyone on the team had their kids and husbands cheering. I missed having my fan club.

At the triathlon, Randy and the girls surprised me by going to cheer at the circle by Royal Farms I spotted them as I approached. They then drove back to Centennial along the bike route... cheering for me when they passed. Then they were at the top of a hill for the run. All in all, they saw me about 6 times during the race. Pretty good! It made me soooo happy. And my parents were at the finish line to cheer.

So, now, enough about the race. I've said my piece. It was awesome and as they say... I couldn't have done it without my family. I am very proud of myself for sticking with the plan.

Incredible!

2008-05-20T13:56:00.000-07:00

Some things that happened recently that amazed me:

Juliet finished her first year of preschool. Can it be that she's not my little toddler anymore?! And when we took her out for a celebratory lunch today, she picked up half of her grilled cheese sandwich and exclaimed, "This is ENORMOUS!" Good word, my love.

Kate stayed home from school today with a slight cold, and chose to watch Cash Cab (one of the smartest games shows around) and How It's Made (basically a primer on engineering), rather than mind-numbing sitcoms on the Disney Channel. Can it be that she's not just a little kid any more?!

Megan and Suzanne (and Marcos!) kicked BUTT at the Columbia triathlon. They set their minds to it, and accomplished an ambitious goal seemingly without trepidation. Megan and Suzanne, you have set the bar high, and for that we are proud and grateful. What were your impressions of the race?

On Love and Self

2008-05-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

I have a friend who has recently come out from under an imperfect marriage of over 10 years. Having recovered to a degree, and in the process of setting up new routines for herself and her two young daughters, she is now open to the opportunity for new love. But not only new love, I mean The Big Love. The Right One. The Love of Her Life. And deservedly so. She is an amazing person who deserves to be amazingly happy.

She and I discuss her dates of late, and I sense her grappling with the need to recognize the right person when he comes along. In offering her my viewpoint on the subject, given that I feel I have the love of my life right now, I am sometimes at a loss to describe how precisely she'll know the right one when she finds him. But that is it, isn't it? She'll just know.

You may think of it differently, but I think that this perfect person will feel like another part of yourself. When you speak of your life and what's important to you, you will know that he gets it. He truly understands you, from humor to fears to values, and maybe in ways that you don't even comprehend. The vulnerability implied by this connection can be frightening, really. However, with him you are the ethereal sparkling, glowing, best version of yourself. Because of this connection you will want to hold onto him fiercely. And he will feel exactly the same way about you.

Ok, I'll stop - I'm even starting to embarrass myself. What I have realized, though, is that passionate love can be narcissistic. Sure, sometimes it all gets lost behind the bill-paying, dish-washing and bodily-function-monitoring chores of daily life (and let's not even MENTION the fact that some of us NEVER PUT THEIR OWN SOCKS AWAY, not even when they're FOLDED AND RIGHT ON TOP OF THE DRESSER DRAWER THEY BELONG IN). Ahem. But love in many ways comes back to how this person makes you feel about yourself.

Indeed, this is not unlike how running can make me feel. I have said it all before, but it's true. Certainly, I run for Juliet. I run so she can see me as healthy and strong, and so she can learn that exercise is a part of everyday life. Heck, I even run for the chance to point out to her various birds along the trail, to practice songs that secretly teach her to count to 100, and to discuss the science of natural events like rainbows. But this practice helps me to feel like a better mother. Who can deny we have more patience after a good run? And I feel I am connecting with my daughter, rather than hoping Noggin can be my all-day preschool. More than anything, I hope this makes her proud of me, now and forever.

I also run to be part of a community. Not only do I get support from the people on my team, but most importantly (for me anyway) I feel safe enough to be weak around them. This is significant, since I rarely allow myself to express weakness, even around Jon. The group's acceptance of my fears, complaints and insecurities helps me work through them in a way I truly could not on my own. Conversely, this safe haven allows me to be stronger, and a better runner. And when I am a better runner, I am a better person. I can almost control everything I don't like about myself and put it behind me permanently.

Yes, the feeling of accomplishment afforded by running can silence my negative internal voices, if only briefly. But also, to be honest (grin), running also makes me feel more fit, and therefore more attractive. Am I model thin? Absolutely not. Do I cringe a bit, focusing on my personal trouble spots, when I try on my bathing suit for the first time each season? Sadly, yes. But I can feel a little more confident when my husband gropes me while I'm JUST TRYING TO EMPTY THE DISHWASHER, for crying out loud. When the voice inside says you're not really grope-worthy, running helps me say, 'Actually, yes. Yes I am.'

And that kind of love, my friend, we all deserve.

Musings

2008-05-12T14:03:00.000-07:00

Some recent thoughts and inspirations:

"Bathroom visits notwithstanding, 10 miles actually felt good today."

"See, you're faster than you think you are."

"Go, Momma, go!!"

"Then she actually said, and she wasn't bragging, that she finished the race averaging a 7:30 mile!"
"Wow."
"I know."
I see in her eyes...she's thinking, 'I should be doing this.' And I should too. Hmm.

"I admire you."

"I was thinking... the way people were brought up... it reflects in their running."
True. So many times I was let off easy as the younger one, as the girl. Do I push myself enough?

"I was thinking of joining the Striders and doing some 800's on the track. Trying to do 3:30's."
Oh man, I don't even know what that means. "So that means?"
"You know, trying to do the same time as your marathon pace [but in minutes]."
Hmm.

I can do this. I only have a treadmill, but I need to at least try.
Half mile warm up. Half miles ON, quarter mile recoveries.
10 minute pace/6.0 speed setting
7:30/8.0(phew, that wasn't bad at all)
8:34/7.0 (maybe I should pick it up)
7:19/8.2 (breathing now, sweating now, but good)
[J's awake, go get her out of bed]
8:34/7.0 (still room to go, I think)
7:19/8.2
8:34/7.0 (keep it going)
7:12/8.3 ("Runners usually have trouble the last 200 meters [of the 800], breaking through the lactic acid..." but my legs still feel good)
8:34/7.0 (last one, let's do it!)
7:03/8.5 (focus focus focus - DONE)
"Momma, come play with me!"
"O.K. honey, here I come..."

It still amazes me....

2008-05-11T18:14:00.000-07:00

but it shouldn't.

There are things in life that I know without really knowing them. These are things that when I actually experience them, I am amazed at the truth of them. Often they are little things that make a big difference. You know, the DUH kinds of things.

I have always exercised and trained haphazardly. I work hard when I feel good, strong, rested motivated. I rest when I don't feel like doing anything. I have lazy days where I walk instead of run because I was tired or stiff or distracted by life. I never really increased or improved... I just went along at the same pace and the same distances. I knew somewhere in my brain that I would be able to improve and be faster, stronger, better if I actually had a goal and a plan.

In November I decided to do the Columbia Triathlon. I knew I could complete the race, but I wanted to do well (for me) and not just crawl over the finish line. In January, I found a 16-week training plan for an Olympic distance tri.

Since I have the race as a goal, I've stuck to the plan, even when I felt like it would kill me. This plan has 3 weeks of build-up and a 4th week of recovery. This is a time-tested strategy that many athletes use. I know it should work. But by the end of the 3rd build week each cycle, I feel terrible and exhausted. Yet, at the end of the recovery week, I am ready to go again. It amazes me each time! Intellectually, I know this type of training works...but to experience it, I really believe it works.

My last few workouts have been awesome. I've been able to get into the zone... even when I'm running. (see my earlier blog "timeless") This morning I had my best bike in weeks and then had a great run too. I didn't even feel tired until late this afternoon. (I think that's the "runners high".)

The most amazing thing for me has been the mental strength this has built. The mental part has always been hard for me. I can psyche myself out of almost anything but have a much harder time convincing myself I can do something. I have done some workouts in the past few months that surprised me. They were part of the plan so I had to do them and I did and I now know I can. I'm not afraid of the race. I AM READY!

As the triathlon approaches, my questions are, what next? How do I keep this up and not fall back into old patterns? How can I keep amazing myself?

The Hills are Alive

2008-05-09T15:45:00.000-07:00

It was probably a sign from God when, upon my decent into Italy, I was greeted by a sunrise over the Alps. (Spectacular. If it hadn't been midnight on my internal clock, and if I had slept AT ALL on the overnight flight, I may have had the mental acuity to grab the camera.) Or maybe the description of our villa hinted at our altitude, saying it overlooked the hilltop town of Barga on the foothills of the Apuan Alps. Well here was our view overlooking Barga.

Seems a bit distant, doesn't it? Can you even see the little gray bell tower poking above the little city there in the middle?! Here was another view from our terrace:

Beautiful, right? Um, yeah, look at how tiny the buildings are down there. So my point is this. I was on top of a massive hill, with going further up or all the way back down as my only running options. And we all know how Lisa feels about hills. Gag-gasp. All my training runs on the treadmill, maxing out at an incline of 6%? Paltry at best. My new mantra-based approach for mentally managing a few short hills mid-run? Laughable. My plan to run at least 3 times while away? Muffled and fading under a pile of poor excuses growing taller by the minute.

I managed one run, and it was probably less than 2 miles (hangs her head in shame). But I did some yoga! And several big hikes (one of which was walking to Barga and back - I kid you not)! Hopefully those efforts count for something, though I do feel guilty about it. But beyond 'coming clean,' I really wanted to share with you how beautiful it all was...

You may have felt the hills were somewhat familiar, given our proximity to West Virginia and the Appalachians. And some of the trees, including the mighty sycamore, are common enough around here. You may have been able to predict the crazy drivers on the hillside roads no wider than a Cooper Mini, the teaming crowds of tourists in Pisa and Florence, and the rolling multicolored fields of the Chianti region.

But, ah, Tuscany! Beyond the stereotypical cypresses, there were chestnuts galore, with their nuts carpeting the woods and paths, hidden in brown spiny cocoons reminiscent of sea urchins. There were irises growing wild in great clumps randomly on hillside meadows. Every house a perfect salt box whitewashed in the colors of sunsets, topped with terra-cotta shingles. Dusty yards were surrounded by terraced land laced with olive trees and grapevines. Window boxes and gardens were already lush to overflowing with wisteria, geraniums, calla lilies and roses. Swallows darted and swooped every evening over herb gardens, wide pens with goats and roosters, and beehive boxes.

On rainy days, the clouds hung above us, but also layered below us in a great blanket over the Sechio river valley. They slid slowly uphill till they silently overtook our terrace, swallowing even the 12th century bell tower jutting up behind our house, then cleared.

We gorged ourselves daily on luscious local cured meats and cheeses, supped on exotic (to me) dishes including wild boar and hare, and sipped red wine with great sighs of contentment after walking for hours along cobblestoned streets dotted with amazing sights both old and new.

It has been a long time since a new experience has made me feel so clear, allowed me to be so present. Allora, thank you Italy for reawakening my travel bug, silent for so long under the mantle of Daily Responsibilities. Thank you for reminding me of all the pleasures available in the simple existence of other cultures and landscapes, and for the opportunity to push myself as a runner. I promise to do a better job next time. Ciao!

Torrid Affair

2008-04-22T19:19:00.000-07:00

http://youtube.com/watch?v=qaOdhWZZfwk

We not all wear New Balance, but isn't this so true?

Cake two

2008-04-19T15:39:00.000-07:00

Well, here it is. The final cake. My daughter responded with, "Oh, Mommy, it's beautiful." I'm very proud of my work and I had fun too! And I'm sure you all were breathlessly awaiting the results.

timeless

2008-04-15T19:01:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else ever get so wrapped up in something that time just doesn't matter? You've just got to finish.

I do, usually around holidays and usually involving something for my girls. I've had it happen when making gingerbread houses for the girls to decorate. My sister and I made cornices for my living room when I was 8 months pregnant. We worked until midnight, yet I hadn't been awake past 8:30 for months. Sometimes, when I'm reading a great book I have to read until it's done, even if it's 3 am.

Well, tonight I was making a castle birthday cake for my eldest who turns 6 tomorrow. Really, she wants the castle cake for her party on Saturday, but I had to do a practice cake just to be sure it will be perfect for the party. I made the frosting from scratch and colored it and piped it, etc. For hours. She's 6. She won't care if it's perfect... actually, that's not accurate. She wants it perfect but her idea of perfect is not the same as mine.

It's not really all about making it great for her or anyone else. The fact is that I love to bake and make and create. It is great when someone else appreciates it but that's not the point for me. I love losing myself in a project and feeling the satisfaction of using all my energy and finishing it. And then, when it's done, I'm so wired and excited that I can't sleep. Like tonight.

I wish running was like this for me. I would love to completely lose myself on a run.... become so absorbed that I am only focused on the run I'm doing at the moment. I can only think of a handful of times when I have become so absorbed on a run. When I'm in the groove. That's the mental aspect of sport that I haven't begun to get good at yet.

Maybe it's just where I am in life. There's a lot going on. I'm in charge of keeping everything in the family running (pun intended). But that is even more of a reason to lose myself in a workout. Isn't it? Clear my mind and live in the here and now...for just an hour or so.

This Much is True

2008-04-14T16:15:00.000-07:00

I had yet another epiphany this weekend, and it had nothing to do with my head cold. At some point in your life, you will be on both sides of the same experience. Don’t you agree?

- You will feel it’s impossible to get the biofeedback you need to do your best while listening to music; you will think you can never run as well or as fast without music.

- You will feel that your mother has no clue what you are going through; when your mother tells you that you are doing a great job as a mom, it means the world to you because she knows exactly what you’re going through.

- You will regret not running enough; you will be a running inspiration to someone, without even knowing it.

- You will be terrified that your father will learn of a mistake you made; you will wish more than anything that you could talk to your father about a mistake you made.

- You will be starting a new training plan with trepidation and real self-doubt; you will finish a race you never thought you could. And you will look forward to doing it again.

- You will make fun of the way your mother dances; you will wish you could smell her perfume one more time, like when she used to kiss you in bed after she and your dad would come home from a date night.

- You will choose to stay in bed rather than run with a cold, and not regret it. You will choose to run with a cold rather than stay in bed, and not regret it.

- You will say something to your child that you’ll regret for days or years; your child will remember with longing the smell of your perfume when you kissed him in bed after being out on a date with your husband.

- You will wish you knew someone who truly understood why you love running; you will thank God you met these people who understand why you run, and love it as much as you do.

Answer to a Prayer

2008-04-09T13:29:00.000-07:00

When I was in elementary school, perhaps about Kate’s age, I read a book that really struck me. I could clearly see in my mind every image described, and I could feel the depth and breadth of every emotion expressed by the main character. I tried to find the title for you, but if it’s still in print anywhere, Google doesn’t know about it. And that’s just sad.

The story was about a boy who came to be living on Venus, the only Earthling among a large indigenous population. Now as we know, Venus is completely cloud-covered; however, in this story the clouds were not composed of sulfuric acid. I suppose I could say it was like the early Star Trek television shows where every planet had an atmosphere like ours, only differing in color when viewed from space, and in the direction of their rotation. But then Jon would say, “See! It really does all come back to Star Trek!” And I wouldn’t want to give him that vindication.

Anyway, to my recollection, the story’s protagonist had become despondent and lonely after failing to integrate with his peers. In a land where there was lush vegetation and great forests, the scenery was still described as gray and sodden with near-constant rain. The boy tried to tell his classmates about the Earth, where in most places you can find abundant sunshine that lights a deep blue sky and streaks the forests with gold. His friends did not believe that such colors were possible, and what’s worse, they didn’t understand the boy’s unhappiness in their drab world. Over time, the boy was ridiculed for talking about his former home, and eventually became ostracized entirely. It was really rather Kafkaesque.

Then one day, there was an announcement that Venus would experience a break in the clouds. The forecast was for 5 minutes of sunlight to occur right in the middle of the day. The boy was beside himself with excitement. When his classmates heard the forecast, they contrived an act of cruelty that could almost certainly only be carried out by school-aged children. Moments before the forecasted time, the boy was locked in a shed with no windows.

While the other kids laughed and taunted the boy from outside, suddenly it happened. The sun burst through the gray ceiling and streamed through the forest canopy. In my mind, the shed and all the children were in the middle of the forest floor, and the trees were as big as redwoods, with great garlands of moss drooping from their heavy limbs. I could see the sparkled dripping of the halted rain as the whole area became lit with shades of chartreuse, jade, malachite and white gold. The children froze and looked up with gaping mouths. The afternoon was filled with the chattering of birds as when a thunderstorm ends. The air smelled thick and sweet from the warming soil and plants.

And slowly, slowly, one of the children unlocked the shed door.

This was the feeling I had just after lunch when the sun came out unexpectedly. J and I were in my office while she played Reader Rabbit on the computer for the gajillionth time. We are sallow and quiet. My eyes were drawn to the wall of windows when the light seeping through the blinds was no longer gray, but green.

“The sun’s out!” I cried. We scrambled over each other and ran out onto the deck in our bare feet, laughing ourselves silly. J hopped on her tricycle (after the seat was dried) and sped around the table and chairs, trailing muddy water behind her. I lifted my face to the sky, feeling not the least bit damp or raw, and almost wept with happiness.

Juliet’s now upstairs sleeping, and I am tied to the computer as I have been lo these many days, but at least I know the sun is out there. That it’s possible. And I love a good run in 45 degree mist as much as the next girl, but man I can’t wait to get out there in my Nikes while it’s balmy and breezy. You know – like it’s actually Spring. And I promise to never take it for granted again.

The Nucleus is Complete

2008-04-01T15:30:00.000-07:00

It's 7 A.M. and I am frazzled. Do you do this? Do you actually expend more energy thinking about what you need to do than the effort it takes to actually do it?

Today is the first day for the quarter-end work for my part time job, and we are trying a new process for getting inputs from our major client. We have new employees getting up the learning curve. Everything, especially the deliverables done in these early days, requires seamless coordination and perfect timing. I have already spent many hours preparing my regular project plan based on all clients' requirements and time lines, and have it open this morning with today and tomorrow's tasks ready to be updated as files come in.

But then J's preschool calls and asks if I can be Helping Parent. We forgot to schedule anyone for today, they say. Silly them. (Co-ops rely on parent support for many things, including classes, and this is part of the reason I love the school.) I say, "Of course I can help," and think to myself, 'I guess that means we'll be leaving early and running in the 7-11 to buy snacks and drinks for everyone...'

And then I realize I'd planned on going to the grocery quickly after dropping J at school, in early preparation for some entertaining we are doing Friday evening. Shopping I can't do later in the week because of aforementioned deadlines, and the fact that I am - along with J - on 12:45pm lunch duty at Kate's school on Friday. Kate's school that's 40 minutes away. Those of you who still have afternoon nappers understand the inherent stress in the words 'lunchtime' and '40 minutes away'. Or maybe I'm the only one with a child that will not nap at home after falling asleep in the car for as little as a nano-second. Or even just thinks about sleeping in the car. No nap? And did I mention we're having dinner guests?

All of these things must be done linearly. Oh I miss being at work were I could multi-task like crazy, then leave it all behind to go to the gym... And this is when I start to wonder if I will be able to do my running for today. For the week, in fact. And my stomach starts to hurt as I stare at my online calendar while my coffee goes cold. I had plans to try 7:30 full mile intervals, rather than just the half miles I tried last week. I had plans to run at the park with my team on Wednesday, but I can't possibly be away from my computer for 3 hours. I had plans of running my long-lost 11 mile loop beginning and ending with J's school on Thursday, but then we won't be going to school Thursday since J will be at her grandmother's...

"MOM-MAY!" comes the call from upstairs.

"I'll get her," Jon says as he jumps up from in front of his computer and coffee. Instantly my blood pressure lowers as I watch him bound up the stairs calling, "Where's my baby?!" J hates that, insisting that she is in fact A Big Girl (read in indignant 4-year-old tone), which of course is why Jon calls her that. I sink down into my barstool at the kitchen island and pull up the video of J's room on my laptop. I see Jon sitting on her bed. I hear the soft tones as he tells her a story. Every time it starts the same way: "What did the bunnies do next, Daddy?" Those bunnies who are perennially on vacation with us in the Outer Banks. She loves going over in her mind what we do at the beach, pretending a cast of rabbits are with us.

I take a deep breath and realize of course I will still get my runs in. Though maybe not in the way I originally had them in my mind, I will put one foot in front of the other. It doesn't matter that things are not as I mapped them out to be. My life's project plan? Not carved in stone! Jon's flexibility and silent support reminds me that the important things are already taken care of. Juliet's instant enthusiasm at the start of every new day buoys my spirits. I can relax. I can let go.

And that's when the answers come easy. I will run today, and everything is okay.