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Archive for the ‘5K’ Category

I hate thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve sat down to write here.  Even now, I feel like I’m sitting down with a long, lost friend.  It’s great to be back.  Thanks for missing me.  I’ve missed you, too.

You know this.  Moms-Who-Run wear many hats.  You can wear lots of them at once.  But not all of them.  Still, it’s easy to forget that your head is only so big and only so many hats will fit up there.

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Then, when Life lifes you, as mine has this past year, you realize what’s most important.  And those are the hats you wear.  And those are the things you do. 

So it was that as a Mother-Runner-Daughter-Wife-Writer-Teacher-Reader-Student-Knitter-Saleswoman-Public Speaker-Trainer-Cheerleader-Chauffer-Cleaning Committee Member-Moving Crew Member-Chief Laundress-Referee-Wound Treater-Hug Giver-God Lover-and Glue that Holds It All Together for My Family, with the application of enough pressure, heartache and disaster, some of these hats had to be taken off and thrown onto the pile with the dirty laundry for awhile.   

If you asked my daughters, they’d tell you exactly what I need:  “You need to run.  And you need coffee.  After God and us, of course.  And your running is good for all of us, Mom.  Seriously.  Same with the coffee.”

So what does Mom-Who-Runs do?

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with financial disaster, she runs. 

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with heartbreak, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with the loss of a home, a friend, a dream, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs realizes she can no longer write, knit, dance, play, because there truly is no longer time for these luxuries, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with ending her kids’ homeschool experience and putting her kids back in traditional school in order to get a job and help her family survive, she runs. 

When Mom-Who-Runs has a husband in intensive care, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs hears her own mother and number one support system has been diagnosed with stage three cancer, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs switches roles and cares for the mother who’s sacrificed so much caring for her all these years, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs gets to pack and move an entire household with her own hands and the help of her two cherubs and a few very loving friends who come through when it counts, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs gets to choke back her own sorrow while she wipes the tears from her daughters’ eyes as they say goodbye to the only home they’ve ever known, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs turns into a puddle (finally breaking down under the pressure) just because someone has been nice to her, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs is surprised by her own medical diagnosis, shares it with her boss, and is fired coincidentally the next day, she runs. 

And she runs.  And she runs.  And she runs.

And she loves her children and her God with a love that is fierce.

And she runs.

And if she doesn’t run, then you know that something is wrong.  And if you love her, you move heaven and earth to get her back on the road or the trail or the treadmill again.

Because the running will bring her back.

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During the time I’ve been away, I’ve run a full marathon, two half-marathons, an ultra and several 5Ks and trail races.  I’ve logged hundreds of miles.  I really haven’t gotten any faster or skinnier. 

But thanks to the running and my kids and the prayers of my family and friends, I am BACK.  Along with my Writer Hat.  And I think we might just stay awhile. 

 

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I am jealous beyond words.  And VERY proud of two of my long-distance running buddies, Shelly and Kari. 

See, neither of these amazing women is particularly fond of running in the cold, icky, slushy weather.  I’m fond of it, mind you.  But them?  Not so much.

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So today, while Shelly was on the East Coast, she ran in a Jingle Bell 5K in the snow!  She even got a PR!  Wow!  I’m so excited for her.  😀  And so jealous.  😦

And Kari, well, she ran in a Jingle Bell 5K on the West Coast, and it sounds like it was in the snow!  Again, excited!  😀  Jealous.  😦

And me?  Well, they did all this while I was sleeping in.  🙂

Just thinking about how I’m So Proud Of Both Of Them!  As I sit here in the cold-but-snowless Midwest. 

Suffering through a Rest Day. 

Running shoes beckoning me….(fingers in the ears, la la la la I’m not listening!)…practicing self-control. 

This is what vicarious running feels like.  Not so fun.  Anyway…

Shelly and Kari, you rock!  Congratulations ladies!  Celebrating with you here in the heartland.  So. Proud. Of. You!

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I started running in the very warm weather.  At the time, the key training issues for me were strategic hydration and forcing myself to haul my body out of bed to run at the crack of dawn to beat the morning heat.  I remember wondering vaguely about how I was going to handle running in the elements, but secretly considering the thought that icky weather would be my excuse to avoid running. 

Then I met Dotty.  Yes, the same Dotty that filled my mind with visions of the Virginia Beach Half Marathon and enticed me to register for the 26.2 with Donna Marathon to Finish Breast Cancer.  That one.  When I found out she had been a distance runner for many years, I asked her about how she handled rain, wind and snow.  She shocked me with her response.  As I recall, it went something like this:

I run every day it’s on my training schedule and I always run outside.  The only reason I would not run outside would be if there was lightning. 

Two or three seasons full of running excuses, blown to smithereens in about 20 seconds of conversation!  And yet how awesome was that?  With snow on the ground even?  Yep.  Even when it’s really, really cold?  Yes.  Pouring rain?  As long as there’s no lightning.  How on earth do you do that?  Just have the right gear and go. 

Wow.

So, I figured this was probably a gold standard for outdoor runners and, since I hate the treadmill, I immediately adopted this as my standard too. 

Now, you may recall that in our neck of the woods we have had a really, really rainy Fall.  In fact, as of today, there are still crops in fields locally that have not been able to be harvested because the ground is too wet.  It has been one rainy season!  Interestingly, I have not had one run cancelled due to lightning.  I’ve watched for it, but all this rain has produced almost zero lightning.  So on I ran. 

Then in the late Fall, the weather began to do something famous for our area of the Midwest.   It started to get COLD.  The shorts and cropped running pants had done just fine so far, but what now?  I’d already learned that the wicking material did wonders to stop the chub rub.  What to do about those frozen legs? 

Enter Coach Shelly:

Me:  What kind of gear am I going to need for the winter?  I don’t plan on dealing with that stinking treadmill unless I absolutely have to and I’m afraid I’ll lose my mind cooped up inside the gym all winter.

Shelly:  There are some things you’ll want, for sure. 

Friend [Anonymous friend, we’ll just call her Chris for this post, offering her thoughts]:  Hey, I like the treadmill and the gym.  Could do without that creepy gym guy, however.

Me:  I think all gyms must have a creepy gym guy.

[Random conversation about gyms, creeps, and other Very Important Girl Talk that ensues when girlfriends are having important conversation about things like Gear.]

Me:  What were we talking about?  Oh yeah, what gear do I need to avoid the gym this winter and still keep training?

Shelly:  You’ll need a long sleeve wicking shirt made for cold weather, something for your head, gloves, and you’ll want some compression pants.

Me:  Compression pants?  Are ya kidding?  Like those skin-tight things that real runners wear?

Image Credit  (and before you ask, NO these are NOT my legs…Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.  No.)

Shelly:  [cheerily] Yes, those are the ones.

Me:  Um…No Way.  There is No Way I am putting this behind into something like that and running around my hometown terrifying innocent bystanders.  There could be an accident or something.  I would have to slither through the streets under cover of darkness.  I simply Couldn’t Do It. 

Shelly:  I know, they look terrible, but they work wonderfully and they are absolutely worth it.  They will allow you to run in very cold temperatures and there is zero chub rub with these things.

Me:  That is because they are SKIN TIGHT!

Shelly:  If you really had to, you would wear a pair of shorts over them.  Either way, it is something you really should consider. 

Me:  No.

Chris:  No.

Shelly:  Well, it’s up to you.  Maybe you’ll change your mind later.

I can tell you that I struggled against the compression pants for weeks and weeks.   Finally, I took the plunge and bought a pair of the hideous things.  I put off wearing them for a long, long time.  Always able to find a way to run when it was a little warmer. 

Then I found myself in 30 degree weather the morning of the Indianapolis 5K (yet another race that Chris had talked me into!) and there was no getting around the compression pants.  I pulled the suckers on and, grateful that I’d remembered to bring the little black shorts to yank on over the top, to protect the unsuspecting public, I ran my first race in the compression pants. 

And to my complete surprise, I had my Very Best Time Ever for a 5K.  The pants kept me warm without overheating.  And they didn’t rub or twist or bunch around.  These things were great! 

They still looked hideous, mind you.  But they were great! 

Since then, the hideous compression pants have become like an old friend.  They accompany me on most of my runs, especially when the temperature is under 40 degrees.  They’ve been on long runs and short runs, uphill and downhill, on the street and on the trail. 

If I get the nerve, I’ll find and post a picture of the Indy 5K compression pants maiden voyage here.   But it ain’t pretty.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

And I find myself, again surprised and saying:  Shelly, you were right!

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Hurray! 

As of Monday, I’ve officially traversed over 500 miles while training for various races!  I’ve gone from being a complete couch-potato to a Mom-Who-Runs.  And I’m so grateful to the people who have encouraged, guided, coached, prodded, and tricked me into and along this journey! 

NEVER would I have imagined at the beginning of this year that I would have participated in a half marathon, an ultra, several 5Ks, and logged 500 miles while training for them all.  NEVER would I have imagined it on May 1st!  Indeed, I logged my first mile on May 19, 2009. 

I am amazed at how much this adventure has changed me.  I know beyond a doubt that I am one blessed lady and the first 500 have made me even more determined about the next 500! 

2010 has BIG things in store for me, running-wise, assuming all continues to go well.  Thanks for joining me on this adventure and helping me celebrate the 500 milestone!  If I can do it, anybody can do it.  Here’s to all of our success!

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See, it’s Charlie’s fault.  I’ve been laughing at her blog all night.  And it’s kept me from writing.  Blame Charlie!  Charlie's Logo

You really MUST click this link to check out her blog.  It is TOTALLY relevant to this amazing blog here that you’ve come to know and love.  Her blog is themed around Operation Shrink Charlie’s Butt.  Of course, this is a subject near and dear to me (the shrinkage of my own butt, not Charlie’s butt–that’s her business!), so I have thoroughly enjoyed clicking around and sharing her journey. 

I haven’t had the chance to read everything, but I’m sure I will.  In the meantime, here are a couple posts that had me laughing until I cried:

The Yoga Incident

Couch to 5K (Charlie Style)  (Be sure to watch the video!  Still giggling…)

Her stuff is WAY too funny not to pass on.  Readers of this blog surely will appreciate her style and perspective. 

PLUS, Charlie has issued me a challenge to help her become a runner!  I simply cannot resist a challenge, so it’s Game On!   I’m hoping to post updates of our progress here! 

I really hope you get the chance to stop by Charlie’s Place and enjoy her slice of life.  I know I did.  And I’m sure I burned plenty of calories from the laughter, too!

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When starting something new, I tend to be kind of quiet about it, waiting to make Grand Announcements about my conquests until there seems like there might be some kind of potential for success.  Chris, on the the other hand, is a different kind of gal.  While I would have preferred to start my running program under cover of darkness, hiding my outta-shape self from the perceived criticisms of others, my buddy Chris was one bold cookie.  She posted and chatted and talked about our adventures until now, quite unexpectedly, I was publicly committed to this journey as well.  Back doors were quickly being closed, boats were being burned behind me.  Quitting was quickly becoming a non-option.  So we set out on a course for success.

Now, whether Chris actually knew at the time that by virtue of being her wonderful self, she was shutting down my every excuse to bail out of our running gig, I really don’t know.  But I’m really glad that she is who she is, because I wouldn’t have made it through the early stages of runningville without her.

It was through Chris that I was (re)connected with my friend Shelly and connected with my new friend Jamie.  Shelly had run a half marathon earlier in the year and was training to run a full marathon later in the year.  She was a Serious Athlete who was training for her marathon with Team in Training.  And she saved my bacon many times, with her timely advice and words of wisdom.

Without someone who already knows what they’re doing, how do you know what equipment is important and what is a waste?  How do you know which training programs work and which ones are worthless?  Shelly is one example, but I’m amazed how people in the running world share their information and their tricks of the trade so liberally, how encouraging everyone is.  (Of course, I’m no threat to anybody’s records and I have a looonnnggg way to go, so I may just be really easy to encourage, too!)

So it was that when Shelly suggested we all run a half marathon together in 2010, I said, Sure, without really thinking about it.  We are now the Capital City Half Marathon Babes and will be burning up the course on May 1, 2010! 

Since I’d barely been able to crawl 7.3 miles, I knew I’d need a training program.  Enter Dotty, another new friend and adult-onset endurance athlete.  She was full of great advice regarding midlife training and coaching.  She recommended the book that helped me figure this whole running thing out  (at least so far).  And she talked about a very cool half-marathon in Virginia Beach

Virginia Beach?  Hmmm.  My brother had just moved to Virginia.   Thoughts of visiting with him and trying my first half marathon swarmed through my delusional head.  I mentioned to my brother that I was “just thinking” about coming out and running the race and he surprised me with his response: “as long as you’re just thinking about it, why don’t we run it together?” 

That’s all it took.  The matter was settled.  I was going to see my brother and run in my first Big Race with him.  Never mind that he was already an endurance athlete.  Never mind that his legs are so long that his inseam reaches up to my armpits.  Never mind that I was still hobbling from my first 5K walking and 7.3 mile trail experience.  Never mind that the race was the first Sunday in September, less than four months away.  Never mind that it was absolutely impossible. 

Somehow, after more than a decade of neglect, within weeks of getting my feet back into my running shoes, having never in my life moved my body more than ten miles in a given effort, I had committed myself to TWO half-marathons.

It was official.  I had lost it for real.  And my craziness was evidence that I was truly on my way to becoming an actual Runner.

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Who’s to blame for this running thing ?  I can think of lots of people, lots of circumstances.  (Me?  I might be to blame for it?  Nah, what fun would that be?!)  Many seemingly unrelated events and coincidences spiraled together to push me over the edge into this adventure, but I’ll have to blame give the credit to my friend, Chris. 

See, Chris found me on Facebook and we decided we’d be workout partners.  Frankly, it was a pretty weak agreement on my part because at the time I was talking about working out without any intention of actually moving anywhere but to the refrigerator. 

This was in early May.

A few days later, Chris suggests, “Let’s run in the Mahomet 5k together in August.”  Sure, I think.  August is far enough away for my superior procrastination skills to be well-utlilized.  No problem.  Registered for wish-race.  Check.  (Still no movement, however.)

A few days later, Chris suggests, “I know it’s only 11 days away, but let’s do the Memorial Day 5k together.  We can walk it.”  At this point, I know that walking it is the ONLY way I’m getting across the finish line in 11 days, since I haven’t run a step in about a decade.  (Nearly falling off the elliptical machine does not count.)  So I commit to running walking the race in 11 days.  (Still no movement, but trepidation has begun to set in.)

I decide to see if my body can even move for 3.1 miles at any pace on its own power without the need for medical attention.  About one hour and one gallon of sweat later, I discover that I have lived to tell the tale, but am confident only in the fact that I have my work cut out for me. 

We survive the 5k walk (daughter, N, has run it and finished LONG before me, and daughter, M, is still waiting at the finish line, jumping up and down and holding a pink parasol, shouting, YAY MOMMY, very cute, but leaving me nowhere to hide) and I discover that my muscles and bones have a unique way of protesting this new thing called exercise:  they stop working.  Knees locked up, I hobbled to the bathroom after crossing the finish line.  How in the world had I let myself get in this terrible shape?!

Hobbling back to the crowd and watching the svelte lionesses get their lightning speed awards, I notice that Crazy Chris now has flyers for MORE RACES in her hand.  The next one is a FIVE HOUR see-how-far-you-can-go race put on by our local running club.  Yes, heaven help me, I’ll do it with you, Chris. 

Knowing at this point, it’s train or die racing, the movement begins.  Slowly.  But it begins. 

And over 400 miles later, I’m still running.  (Thanks Chris.)

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