Category: Running

Kermit is My CoPilot

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After the run with KermitSometimes I think I appreciate my friends more than I tell them. I love them more I let on. That I know. Today I went shopping with such a friend. She’s the one who loads my arms up with the “try this on” stuff because, as she puts it, “it just might work.” She’s right about most everything. I never did tell her that the fur coat pinched my pits, but she’s right – it was funky. I could have spent all afternoon trying on the suggestions of a friend. I didn’t have one fat moment.
I tell you this because she convinced me I needed Kermit. Kermit, Aerosmith and a sexy dress with sunset colors. But, the bigger news is later that day I ran with Kermit. 5.34 miles in an hour. Yup. One freaking hour. I ran to random and found myself laughing at the more ridiculous moments of the week. One hour is a long time to think about sh!t on a treadmill, especially when you settle in and run at the same pace. With Kermit’s help I came to several conclusions. The best being this: My friend is right. No one, I repeat, no one tells me how to conduct my marriage. No one tells me what is or isn’t appropriate. I’ll let my husband be the judge of what he would or wouldn’t appreciate. I was stupid to be upset. I was stupid to care what someone else thought. Especially that kind of someone.

So, to my friend. Thank you for kicking my mental butt.

14 days until Darfur.

Run Not Done

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I could kiss my kisa for being so so so there. I was driving us home and without warning I blurted out how hurt my heart was. Broken, I said. He was patient, logical…comforting…as best as he could be. He offered advice I couldn’t take. “Call” he said simply. No. NoWayNoHow I countered. I can’t. I want to disappear. Really truly. Remove myself as if I never happened. Ever. I’m doing that slowly, carefully, despite Kisa’s “don’t do that.” I can’t help it. Can’t. Help. Despite being angry I am caught. Confused. Embarrassed.
So, I ran. For the first time this week. I know, I know. It’s Thursday. When you have two jobs and a need to catch up it’s hard to catch the run. It becomes less important. Sadly. So, tonight while dinner was cooking, I got on the tread…as an abbreviated 20 minute run – intervals. 12 minute mile (slow end) 6 minute mile (faster side). I found myself sobbing during the pounding parts. Everything hurt. Rob Thomas tells me there’s no getting back to good. Great. My “cool down” was 10 minute mile and it felt ridiculously slow despite not being able to breathe. This run is simply not done.

Dear You: I heard your music and could only think of swamps and being stuck. Damn him and his mind change! Hang in there.

17 days until Darfur.

Conversations of the Painful Kind

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I had a serious talk with my knees, ankles and hips today. I know some people talk to their cats, their Kenmores, and their shadows. Me, I talk to body parts; my body parts, interviewing each one, scrutinizing their replies. I can’t help but be suspicious. How are we feeling today? Are we ready to rock it? I listen carefully. Friday, my hip screamed at me, bared it’s teeth and threatened to bite. Didn’t like the stairs, I guess. Today, a much more subdued response came through, “I’m okay.” Good. Good. Knees and ankles replied in kind. Great. Except. Right foot spoke up just a little. Right where the stress fractures appeared nearly two years ago. Was that a growl? What now? Maybe it’s just a little tight.
I’m a situational runner. I run best when I’m angry, when there is something I need to work out. When the mind is on overload. Running in the gerbil cage forces me to stay focused. If the dryer is loud enough I run in time to the load’s cycle spinning. If the run is long enough I zone out, think of nothing but where this would take me if I was homehome. Would I be in the Cathedral woods or out on the cliffs? Would I be down by the wreck or beyond? More often than not I talk to my legs, asking them for another mile. I barter with my knees, promising a crazy good bag of frozen peas and maybe a steamy bath afterwards…if we get through it. The only one I can’t talk to is my heart. Stubborn and silent it stays. Maybe that’s a good thing. Because despite the silent treatment we usually work it out.

Rockin’ It Mexi Style

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We didn’t end up where we haven’t been so I ran. I promised I would. (thanks for messing with me). Truth is, the running thing is seeping back into my blood. I can feel it becoming as natural as time ticking. Except for this – it’s really hard to run on a full belly of burritos! Seriously. There is this small Mexi place right by where I used to work. Everything is authentic and good, good, good. I pity the person who is afraid to bite adventurously because there isn’t a bad thing on the menu. I could stand in front of that menu, drool coming off my chin, taking forever to decide just how hungry I am. I’m always biting off more than I can chew, more than my stomach can hold. In my greed for great food I gorge.
Last night was no different. We ate and ate. Later, I literally waddled up to the gerbil cage and said a prayer before rocking 3.4 miles in 35 minutes with warm-up. I’m proud of the pace. A month ago I was barely hitting 2.5 miles in that same time. I prefered a 12 minute mile over anything faster. Now, I’m comfortable with 10.5. What a scary thought. What a great feeling. So, B~ I didn’t get the 3.5 I promised you, but I came damn close – so damn close!
Someone pissed me off today and made me shut off my phone. The anger is enough to get me running again but I have to be smart. Last night I heard my hip gnash it’s teeth in pain when I climbed the stairs. Last night I ran hard and I ran happy. I never run stupid. I’ll wait a day. The anger will still be there, but the Mexi won’t. I wonder how far I’ll get?

Beating Up Bill

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I woke to rain and rolled my eyes. Of course it was raining. Of course. Today was race day. I had to run…and it was raining. At that point I wanted nothing more than to snuggle deeper under the covers and pretend I had a few more hours of snoozetime. It’s hard to take a stand when all you want is to let sleeping dogs lie. *sigh*
The park was buzzing with ipods and lycra tights. Stretching, jumping, running in place, people talking the talk of runners. PRs, last races, and strained hamstrings. Water, bananas and bagels. I got #779 and tried to figure out what happened in July 1979 that was good. Looking for an omen. Killing time with idle chatter to calm less than idle nerves. I heard a rumor the run was twice around the park. If memory serves me right, the park is only 1.1 miles around. Hmm? I anticipated a creative run…to say the least. At least it stopped raining.
Here’s what I forgot about running outside: Hills – up and down ones, gradual and steep ones. I wasn’t used to running down Duck Pond Hill. Weird on the knees. Gusts of wind. Cold wind. Patches of ice. Large puddles of really cold, dirty water. Larger than life piles of dog sh!t. I encountered all of it with shock and amusement. Ran right through all of it without prejudice. Baseball cap pulled low, low, low. Eyes on my feet the entire time. When I got to That Spot I cursed it. Fukc you and your pain. Even spit on it the second time around. Yes, even spit on it.
The creative addition to 2.2 miles? Running in a circle in the train station parking lot. I knew it would be different!
We finished running up Hell Hill. This, I’m used to it. It’s the only way out of the park, the only way home. I’ve done it a thousand times. Grind my teeth, focus on the feet and dig in. I found power and surged to the finish line. Before ‘These Are Days’ could get a minute of music, I finished. Technically, I finished on ‘Paint it Black’ – two songs earlier than I planned. I don’t have the official time, but I do know this, I officially finished. Beating up Bill never felt so good.

Bill’s Challenge Playlist:

  • Hotel California
  • We Didn’t Start The Fire
  • We’re Not Gonna Take It
  • Higher Ground
  • All My Life (kisa’s spur of the moment pick)
  • Lose Yourself
  • Paint It Black
  • These Are Days (didn’t hear)
  • The Scientist (didn’t hear)

Thanks 2 U

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musicIt’s the day before my first BackInTheSaddle race. A little 5k-er…in the snow (at least that’s what the forecast was predicting). I’m a little nervous. It’s o n l y 5k, but still…This marks the beginning of my road back to the run. Mentally, it’s a big, huge, colossal deal for me. Mentally, it’s all that I have. Having said all that, I think conditions are perfect. The race is in the same park where I trained for the half. I know it intimately. I love it well. Friends have gotten married there. I’ve seen Natalie perform there. I have so much history there…it’s also the same place where I first felt my knee give out. It’s where I fell to the ground. I know the exact piece of pavement I crumpled on. Half of me prays we avoid that spot altogether, but other other half wants to run over that exact spot with a fukc you vengeance, stomp on that spot…and keep going.

I asked people for input on favorite songs. I made it obvious that I want to make each list into a special mix just for that person, but what I didn’t make clear is that I want to take certain songs from each list and create my very first race mix. Two people emailed me privately with their choices, someone else sent me a text message…and my husband thought the task too daunting to just rattle off 10 songs. As he says, “I really need to think about that.” So, his choices will come later…much later – something for the next run.
So, here’s the 3/15/08 Bill’s Challenge 5k Run Playlist:

  1. We Didn’t Start the Fire – Billy Joel (Manda)
  2. Higher Ground – Stevie Wonder (Ruth)
  3. We’re Not Gonna Take It – Twisted Sister (Sarah)
  4. The Scientist – Coldplay (Heather)
  5. Paint it Black – Rolling Stones (Greg)
  6. Hotel California – Eagles (Rebecca)
  7. These Are Days – 10,000 Maniacs (ME 🙂 )music

My third motive for asking for music was to discover new music. I have some really, really creative people in my life and I am always looking for new stuff to listen to. I love the process of discovery, especially when the education comes from my friends. So, thank you, thank you, thank you for chiming in!

The Music Game

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I have a proposition to make. I’m exploring the idea of running on emotion. Right now I’m running by heartbeat. Bass and drums, bass and drums. Driving beats that match footfall. “Last night” I ran to Paint It Black five times because it got me where I wanted to go. That’s nice and all, but I want more. I need more. I found that I get more “fired up”, more “pumped” to run when there is a strong emotion behind it. Does that make sense? I’m looking to explore the idea of running angry (since I have so much of it, naturally), running happy, running with purpose. I’m thinking running angry will be a good substitute for energy since I’m less likely to have a surplus of that thing called energy, ha!  ipod
Last night I was discussing the “angry” songs with kisa. I think he was surprised to hear Gravedigger by Dave Matthews is on the list, but when he asked “1940 to 1992?” I knew he understood completely. It’s the line that gets me every single time. What’s The Matter Here? by 10,000 Maniacs goes without saying. How could any song about child abuse not get you pissed off? Uncomfortable by sirsy is another great one.

So here’s a question for you: if you could pick 10 songs; 10 all-time favorite, YOUR greatest songs ever, what would they be? How about if there were rules attached like one had to be from the 1980s (‘cuz I’m an ’80s child), one had to be a love song, one had to be personal (for whatever the reason), and one had to outside your comfort zone. Could you pick 10 and only 10? If you can do it, lemme have ’em!

Here’s my all-time 10 (don’t laugh)ipods

  1. These are Days ~10,000 maniacs
  2. Take Me To the Top ~ Loverboy
  3. Paint it Black ~ Rolling Stones
  4. Bulls on Parade ~ Rage Against the Machine
  5. Holiday ~ Scorpions
  6. Please Let Me Be ~ sirsy
  7. Thick as Thieves ~ Natalie Merchant
  8. Pretty Polly/Diver Boy ~ traditional murder ballads
  9. Grace is Gone ~ Dave Matthews Band
  10. Island Woman ~ the Merrymen

I think it’s pretty obvious where my inspirations are hiding. 80s song, love song, personal song, out-of-comfort-zone song. They’re all there. Those of you who know me will be able to spot them in a second. I doubt there will be any surprises. Your turn.

Lining It Up

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Now&ZenYoga

(Now & Zen Yoga: photo by Chris Szarek)

Back when I was training for the LLS Alton Bay half I was striving for The Trinity: a good running plan, a good eating plan and a good yoga plan. I’m one of those nutty people that earnestly believes that all these things go together. Especially yoga and running – I’m convinced they go hand in hand. Think about it. Let’s take the run first. Some people say a good run is mind-clearing. Others say it’s a good chance to relax. Okay – so the “relax” factor might be stretching it in terms of physical, but think about it from the mental for just a sec. I don’t know about you, but when I run, there is a cadence to my breathing – one deep count in, two long counts out. Slow & steady with the mantra “must beat cancer” right behind it. There is a rhythm to my running that parallels my practice in yoga.

Now let’s move onto a good yoga session and how it relates to a good run. Tight hamstrings, tight hips, tight anything is bad, bad, bad for running so… what better way to stretch it all out than with a session of yoga? Go on any running site (take Runner’s World, for example). I bet there is an article or two (at the very least) about good stretching. The Y word might even be thrown around a little. I know for a fact Runner’s World has a video of three yoga moves designed to free the hips, loosen the quads and stretch the calves.

My point of all this preaching is not to get runners to become yogis or vise versa. My point is all about me, myself and moi, actually. I wanted to outwardly vent about lining it up – the yoga, the running & the eating well. Only now I’ve added a fourth component so I’ll have to rename the Trinity as the Fantastic Four: running, yoga, eating well and…Hello Mr. Bowflex – strength training!

Bill, My First (not)

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CancerI sent in my registration today. It’s in the mail which means there is no turning back now…unless I want to commit a federal offense. I’m committed alright! Committed to the run. Bill, your challenge will be my first even though it’s your third. No. That’s not entirely true. I’ve run one other 5K in my life. Just as I’ve only run one other race besides that. So, come to think of it, your third annual challenge is technically my third race ever. Go figure.
March 15th. Mark my calendar in red. I signed up. I paid to play.
Here’s the deal: Look Park – twice. 8am. Bill’s Challenge III is sponsored by Cancer Connection. Bill was CC’s first client. He was so involved in Cancer Connection that after his death the 5K challenge was created in his honor. Somehow I missed the 2006 & 2007 challenges but thanks to my father-in-law, hello challenge 2008, here I come.

Here’s my deal. I am not running for personal time. I could care less about beating anyone else (least of all myself). I run to fight cancer, honor someone special, raise awareness for issues like domestic abuse, bring places like Darfur into focus…I could go on. I run to help. Always have, always will. If I’m not moving my feet for something good, it’s not worth doing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, show me the cause and I’ll find the fight.

Sole Sisters (for Sarah)

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0740757113_01__sx140_sclzzzzzzz_.jpgLin, Jennifer and Susan Warner. Sole Sisters: Stories of Women and Running. Kansas City: Andrews McMeel, 2006.

Here’s what I wrote on LibraryThing:
This is a book of inspirational stories about women running together, women running for recovery, women running for themselves. From personal goals of fighting cancer to group goals of running as a centipede in a marathon, every story comes together with humor and poignancy. There is the woman running to celebrate health and the one who runs to honor loss. Every woman has a reason for running and this book illustrates that point.

Yes, there is definitely going to be a definite split between LT blogs and what I put here. I think I explained that one well enough already.

My favorite lines:
“If I wanted to take orders from a man I would have married one” (p 12).
“She walks with a slight hitch, but she still lifts weights and runs 35 miles a week, just for herself” (p 14). Are you doing the math, people? That would be 5 miles a DAY, or 8.5 miles every other.
“The event was apologetically girly” (p 25). Never apologize for what you are.
“I ran to keep my heart beating” (p 59).
If you take that first step, do everything in your power to also take that last step” (p 92).

I read this because of Sarah. Thanks to her, it was the first gentle nudge towards getting back to running. I needed the nudge. I hope she doesn’t mind that I left it for another friend – to inspire & motivate.

I Found Fire

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I can’t stop thinking about this. I can’t stop the burning because truthfully, I found the fire. Here’s what I needed to do – all I really needed to do: simply talk to someone who runs like me – not perfectly, not professionally, not obsessively. Someone who understands stumbling onto the powerline of running and the electric desire to stay strong. It’s a balancing act to stay on that live wire. Believe you me. What dawned on me was that I had no one to talk to about MY run, MY pain, MY failures. I would try, but deep in my heart I knew the well-meaning ears would only half hear me and the well-meaning hearts would only half understand me. Bottom line – no one got my run. I was another puppet – talktalktalk – and I was probably boring as all hell. No one got me. I mean reeallly got me.
That changed when I got back from Florida. I’m not sure which words struck the match, but I have found the fire. Since getting back I have run five times. Each time no more that 31 minutes. 2.4 miles, 2.45 miles, 2.5 miles, 2.55 miles, & 2.75 miles. Every other day the treadmill calls my name and I answer. I’m running to stupid sh!t like “Cotton Alley” and “2am” but, but. But! I hope that will change when I actually break down and buy myself an ipod. I’ll make running playlists for 2.5 miles, 3 miles, 5 miles…(lawd, I’m a geek). I’m so obsessed about the song that in fact, I now listen to music with an ear on the run. Can I move my feet to this? Is this something that will snag the miles and drag me along? I’m asking for advice, listening to the bmps. Everyone says “Running Down a Dream” is one of the best songs. I still say “Paint it Black” and “Use the Force” are my anthems. For now.

Chourico Content

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For three months now I haven’t wanted to cook. I have come home feeling exhausted, worn down and depressed. Kisa asks a one-word question “pizza?” and my only response is another question “order out or make in?” I’m not feeling guilty about the laziness. We got a pizza stone and peel for our wedding and I truly enjoy making fresh pizza at home. But, but, but. It’s not what I consider cooking. I’m not really making anything when I lay down a crust with sauce and cheese.
Tonight, all that ended. I shook off the blues and I’m back in the kitchen. My first recipe to ring out the old year is chourico/turkey sub sandwiches in honor of the Saturday night Patriots game.
Ingredients:

  • chourico, red and spicy, stripped of casing and chopped small
  • ground turkey
  • sweet vidalia, chopped tiny
  • zesty tomato sauce
  • ruby red tomatoes, diced
  • crunchy, bright jalapenos (I cheated with jarred because I prefer my friend, Mrs ‘Fro), chopped smaller than small
  • dried oregano
  • sugar
  • black pepper (fresh cracked, of course)
  • tapioca
  • big black olives, sliced
  • monterey jack cheese, shredded
  • fresh, fresh, fresh rolls, guts taken out
  • crunchy tortilla chips (I like red hot blues)

I prefer to cook the turkey and chourico in batches, alternating between the two. End with a batch of turkey so it can soak up the crusty bits of chourico left behind. This method also gives the otherwise grayish turkey a deeper color. The whole thing stews for 6-12 hours so the flavors can have a lasting relationship and not just a one night stand. Serve with plenty of napkins and water for the wimps.

Slipping Up Slowly

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I wish I could read and run at the same time. When I read I feel guilty that I’m not running. And when I’m running….who am I kidding? I haven’t been running! There’s no guilt there! I just want to be reading more than running. Period. Such a sad state of affairs.
I think I’m slipping up slowly. A few weeks ago I posted a review without my favorite quotes. I had to go back and add them in today. What was I thinking? After adding them I then had to double back to LibraryThing to make sure I had linked the review (I had). Phew.
In the meantime I’m supposed to be working with a personal trainer. I won’t even get into it because it’s just fodder for laughter at this time. I can’t even take myself seriously. Yet, I plan to blog about it because I’m a glutton for punishment (and ridicule).
I let three birthdays go by this week without acknowledgment. Not that I did it on purpose. Time got away from me and it was late before I knew it. Late is par for the course. I hope they understand. Like I said, slipping up slowly.

Another World

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I’ve always thought I would like living under the sea, or in an aquarium…at the very least. The watery depths have always appealed to me. Maybe it’s because there is silence, pure silence. Inhabitants glide by, float by, dance by effortlessly, carelessly, and silently. Maybe because there is speckled sunlight near the surface but, for the most part, mostly there is only darkness. Murky and mysterious. It’s misleading but the ocean’s depths seem calm, quiet, even patient. What a contrast to the world above.
Me, I had contrasting worlds on Sunday. Sometime during the day I lost my energy. I put it down somewhere and promptly misplaced it. I spent most of the late afternoon in a self-induced stupor. Sleeping in fits, staring at the tv in a wide-eyed trance, eating things straight from containers. I watched nearly an entire season of “So You Think You Can Dance?” I got drawn in by the contestants while shoveling large spoonfuls of cottage cheese into my mouth; I put myself on the panel of judges and instantly became judgemental and sour. Surely she can’t win. He looks too goofy. Who am I to judge? One girl looked like she could bench press me with one arm and I was calling her a losing contestant?
Everyday has to have one redeeming quality, just one. Here it is: Earlier in the afternoon I ran over five miles after working out. Yes. What a contrast to the couch I just confessed to. I actually put hand to weight and lifted. And then, and then got on the treadmill for an hour! Imagine that! I know a certain someone will scoff at my paltry five miles. I can hear him now, “Five miles? An hour? Is that it? I’m just getting warmed up!” But, I’m proud of my five. Wait. Over five. I think it was more like 5.36 or something. Anyway. I’m proud of this run because it’s the first one that felt like me in a long time. The music between my ears matched the desire in my heart and fueled my feet to run. Then. I hit the couch. Go figure!
The contrast between treadmill and tv time is tremendous. One world colliding with another. Yet, both worlds are mine.

Time Tempted

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There are so many things crashing around in my head I couldn’t write a straight-up, this-is-my-life blog even if I wanted to. Like a maze of the brain I’m not even sure which way to start and it feels like there is no getting out. No way out.

The stupid things: there is a wasp buzzing in my office and there is a phone guy banging on my window. I don’t want the wasp to sting me, nor the maintenance guy to break the glass. I’m distracted by the worry of either (or both) of these things happening. I realize the wasp is just looking for a way out and the phone guy is just trying to rewire my office. Yet, I worry all the same. Don’t break my skin, nor my window.

The serious stuff: XCP needs registrations. I haven’t called the publics for liason capabilities. I just got the okay. ACE needs library interaction. We’ll set something up for the second week of school but it all takes planning. PALS starts in 3 weeks and I don’t think we are ready to serve our own public never mind theirs. I have a class in two days and I haven’t even looked at the schedule. Should I be worried that security clocked in but lied about where they went? Should I be concerned that I’m ignoring the vacation time I’m supposed to be taking? I don’t like butting heads with the clearly not here.

The other life: We bought a treadmill and I nearly ran 2.5 miles in 35 minutes. That doesn’t seem like much but consider this – warm up AND cool down are included in that 35. I’m getting there but I’ll blog elsewhere about the details. Grandad is giving up the fight. I hope he sees ghosts. My friend is pining for a married someone and she can’t walk away. Won’t let go. I don’t know who is hurting more. Cape Cod seemed a necessary journey if only to call it home. I recognize the damaged goods in myself. Thank you letters are not flowing from the pen like they should. What more can you say beyond simple gratitude? I got your letter. I’m just thinking of something to say beyond HowAreyou?

Time tempted: I made chicken tortilla soup last night. Red peppers and sweet vidalias sauteed with chunks of chicken, salt, pepper, coriander, thyme and cumin. Fresh salsa. Avocado, lime, tomatoes, cilantro, homemade tortilla strips seasoned with chili and cajun spices. Pepper jack cheese. Served with chili-lime corn on the cob and cold beer. Summer fiesta. Tonight I want to smoke pork chops in sweet apple wood chips. Serve them with crispy garlic green beans and chunky apple sauce…or maybe roasted broccoli and spicy apple rings made from Grannies. I don’t have a lot of time to think out meals.
Two nights ago I slept in fear of calf cramps. Last night the dreams were worse. I see you as I want you to be.