Almost a “Real Runner”

During the past week, I’ve had a few things occur that make me feel as though I am making the transition to “real runner:”

I needed a calorie boost while running!

During last week’s ten-mile adventure, my sugar dropped about mile seven. I happened to put a pouch of Justin’s Almond Butter in my running belt. Good thing I did; I needed it! As I picked at it, I felt like a real runner. Mike joked that I was taking nothing more than Nutella shots while exercising. Shush! I was refueling!

My favorite running pants are discontinued

I love Athleta pants! After trying several pairs, my loyalty fell towards their Relay 2.0. I love the pants because of their multiple pockets. Anyone who knows me knows my unhealthy love of pockets. The Relay 2.0 have the back zipper pocket and two front pockets that are big enough to hold my phone. Hands-free running! I visited the store Sunday to purchase another pair only to discover the Relay 2.0 are being replaced with the Up for Anything pants, which do not have the back zipper pocket. I was able to find a pair of my beloved pants on eBay. While I was sad that Athleta discontinued my favorite running pants, my sadness associated with this made me feel like a “real runner.”

I have my first real injury

Oh, Providence Bagels, how I love you so!

I have known for years that I have a touch of arthritis in my knees. I am careful to stretch before and after running. I take two yoga classes and at least one weights class weekly. When my legs hurt after running, I alternate applying ice and heat. I know I am doing everything that I am supposed to, yet the pain remains. I have an appointment with my doctor next week. Hopefully, it is something simple that a few PT and chiropractor sessions can fix. This wish is mostly because I love running but also because I enjoy eating like someone who runs fifteen miles weekly.

I genuinely look forward to my long runs

I’ve always enjoyed working out, especially in group classes. I like the camaraderie and friendly sense of competition, even if it is just with myself. (“She’s using that weight; I can, too.”) The thought of not going out this weekend makes me sad. I am hoping my knee cooperates. Like most people, my days are pretty busy; I love getting lost in my thoughts or a good audiobook and letting the miles go by.

I have an awesome running group!

Running can be a pretty lonely sport. I’m glad that I am a part of something bigger than me. I have someone cheering me on, encouraging me, and reminding me that it’s not always difficult. We laugh and cry and celebrate together. They push me out of comfort zone. And that, my friends, is where the magic happens.

The Mondayest Tuesday Ever

Monday can only be categorized as a comedy of errors. It started off great! I woke up before my snooze when off, Liam and I made great time getting ready and out of the house to walk Banjo. Banjo was well-behaved on his walk. During our walk, a second button fell off my coat. I managed to find the button and planned to take it to the tailors after school to have them put back on. It’s going to be warmer for the next few days so I can go without my heavy winter coat.

We have a great routine in the morning. Liam takes Banjo outside and plays with him while I put lunches together and do the last few things around the house before we head to school. My plan to quickly put clothes in the dryer turned into a debacle. I couldn’t find the first lost button. They were major problems, but they were slowing me down and getting me frustrated.

Because it was warmer, I did not go outside and warm up my car. When it was time to walk out the door, I proudly remembered ice cream I had to bring with me that morning. Because I had been used to starting the car early, I was used to not grabbing keys on the way out. It wasn’t until I got to the car that I remembered the keys were on the hook inside the house.

We kept a spare key under a rock in one of our flower beds. Because Banjo has been running all over the yard, he knocked over the rock and dug up dirt in the garden. I could not find the key. I called Mike’s best friend, who lives one street over from us. He had already left for work. I continued to search, but finally gave in and called Mike, who immediately left work. I kept searching, eventually remembering we have a metal detector in the sunroom. It took about five minutes because the nails in the fence kept giving false readings, but I found the key after fifteen minutes of searching.

Through all of this, Liam was amazing! He kept me calm, even when I wanted to cry out of frustration.

After school, I called a local shoe repair about my boots. I dropped them off five weeks ago to be resold with the promise that they would be ready four days later. It’s been over five weeks now and I’m getting ignored calls, unanswered messages, and when I stop in the shop, excuses. The owner has already cashed my check; I just really want my boots. I wish he had just admitted he didn’t have time to do them when I dropped them off to be repaired.

For months, I have tried to have at least some of my student loans forgiven. In February, I was told I was all set as long as the school department verified my position. Yesterday, I received a letter saying it was not going to happen.

So it was the Mondayest of Tuesdays. When Mike got home, I told him I was eating a mug cookie for dinner. No regrets. Well, none at the time.

Here’s the thing about Monday Tuesdays: they help you put things in perspective. As I played with Liam and Banjo outside, the warm sun assured us that spring is finally arriving. We went for a long walk with Banjo and enjoyed each other’s company. I went to yoga, laughed with my friends, and accomplished a more difficult than usual workout. I returned to snuggle on the couch with Mike and Banjo before climbing into my warm bed for the night. Yes, it was not a perfect day, but I am still a pretty lucky person.

Six Weeks to Go and Double Digit Runs

I need to start by bragging that this past week was a week filled with PRs!!! During Monday’s strength class, I PRed my deadlift: 210×3! Yes, it was only by five pounds, but a PR is a PR! Tuesday, I ran with Banjo after school. His energy is contagious! We ran 2.11 miles in 23:52, coming in at an 11:20 pace. My second mile was 10:57, my fasted yet! I’d love to sometime run a ten-minute mile; this is a start!

Last week, I was able to get out for three short runs and one long training run. The plan called for a nine-mile run, but I was excited to break double digits and went for ten. Two miles in, I stopped to tie my shoe, pausing my FitBit but reminding myself that there will be no pause buttons during the actual race. I resumed my run, making good time. A few minutes later, I began to wonder why I hadn’t heard the “three miles” announcement from my FitBit interrupt my audiobook. Turns out I didn’t hit the “resume” button hard enough and ran a third of a mile paused. Even with my pause, I was determined to make it to ten miles. So my ten-mile run was really 10.3 miles. Mentally, this run was not as bad as last week’s run. I’m proud that I was able to reach the next goal.

That being said, my left knee started to hurt about mile seven. I’ve known of arthritis in that knee for five years now and use it as another reason to keep active. I had attended a morning yoga class as well as a conditioning class before the run; I knew I had warmed up plenty before the run. I iced it twice yesterday and went to Rhode Runner to purchase a knee brace. I wore it around the house yesterday and on our walk with Banjo. The first run with it is tonight. Let’s hope it helps! My thought has always been to as much as I can to help before heading to the doctor. If I do more stretching, icing, and Advil and it still bothers me, then I will head to see the doctor.

Also during mile seven, my sugar dropped. I’ve read a little bit about gels and, honestly, I feel like they are beyond where I am right now. I don’t drink caffeine so I am hesitant to try them. When Stop and Shop and Justin’s Almond Butter packets on sale a few weeks ago, I bought three to keep in my car in case I ever needed a quick boost. Something told me to grab one before heading out Saturday. Good thing I did; it saved me when I felt myself getting woozy! While taking little bits of it during my run, I felt like a “real runner!”

It doesn’t seem real that this half-marathon is only six weeks away. Since it is the day after Liam’s first communion, the next few weeks will fly by! I have another half scheduled for October so I know I have to keep up with training. I am really wondering what comes after this. I’ve spent so much time working towards this that I am wondering what life will be like the following weekend when I don’t “have” to go out and run for two hours on Saturday afternoon.

Thanks to training, I have been enjoying the benefits of having a lot more freedom in my diet. Last week, I ate a Providence Bagel Thursday morning and stopped at Knead Donuts yesterday (after buying the knee brace at Rhode Runner). I still managed to lose weight this week. I could imagine how toned I would be if I really was disciplined in my diet and continued to work out this much, but that just seems silly because I love food and have finally found a good balance instead of being “all or nothing” when it comes to dieting.) Yesterday, I had eggs and turkey sausage for breakfast, yogurt for lunch, and an old-fashioned sour cream donut for dinner. It’s all about balance, and I am finally managing to do that.

This Saturday, I will complete another ten-mile run, this time with friends. I am actually looking forward to. Five weeks later, we will finish a half-marathon, many of us for the first time. I am eternally grateful to the people who inspire me to become stronger, to push myself in ways I never considered possible!

Seven Weeks to Go!

Oh, no. This is starting to get real. Back in November, signing up for a half-marathon seemed like a great idea. It was six months into the horizon, providing ample time to train and zero excuses not to be prepared. It was so cold over the winter that any thoughts of completing the long training runs were non-existent. February brought the official beginning of the twelve-week training program. It started off pretty easy, without much difference between what I was already doing. Week five of training requires an eight-mile tune. This week’s training includes a nine-mile run.

I was excited to run seven miles, signifying completing more than half of the half-marathon distance. Eight miles represented steady progress. For my second eight-mile run, I set out on a completely different route, a huge square around the airport, forcing me to finish the run if I wanted to get home. Next week, I can take a different way home to add an extra mile.

The run itself wasn’t too terrible. I started out struggling to find my motivation, but I was okay by mile two. I almost immediately regretted wearing a second pair of pants. Even though it was 23 degrees with the wind chill, by my second mile, I was sweating. Many times, I considered taking off the extra layer, hiding them in a bush somewhere, and returning for them after I finished my run. I smiled to myself as I ran past the local Irish pub that we used to frequent. Even in the early afternoon of Saint Patrick’s Day, the normally quiet pub was packed. Ten years ago, Mike and I would have been there. Now, I am running past the pub rather than sitting in it. Funny how life and priorities change as we get older. I enjoyed going a different route; it made the run a little more interesting. Instead of my normal mindless or easy audiobooks, I listened to White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America. It’s interesting and informative, sharing parts of history that I had never yet heard. While it is definitely heavier than A Man Called Ove and Scrappy Little Nobody, I’m thankful for the time to exercise my mind and body. By mile six, I was tired and sore, perhaps because unlike last week’s long run that came three days after having a wisdom tooth removed, I had not taken three Advil before going out for the run. Because I was two miles from home, I didn’t have any choice but to run home. My plan to hold myself accountable worked!

I came home on Saturday afternoon feeling pretty accomplished. For a second time, I had run eight miles. Not only did I run the eight miles again, my pace was three seconds faster per mile! If I kept this pace throughout the half, I’d reach my three-hour goal. (Last week, my pace was 13:45, setting me up for a three hour and one second completion time.) I was feeling pretty good about myself until I started doing the math. Over eight miles, three seconds equals twenty-four seconds, not even the length of a single commercial. Yes, I had just run eight miles, but on race day, I will still have to run another five. I have been working so hard, yet I still have so far to go. As an English teacher, the stereotype is that we are supposed to hate math. At that moment, it was a reality; I hated math because it let me know that I had a lot more work to do. It spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to have a full panic attack. Why did I think I could do this? Before signing up for the race, I had never even walked thirteen miles over the course of a day. (According to my Fitbit, my best day ever was walking twelve miles and change over a whole day.) Now, I thought I could run thirteen miles… in a row! Seriously?!

The novelty of training for this is gone. This is hard! That being said, I set a goal and I am going to accomplish it. I don’t care if what I have to walk. I know there will be tears when I cross the finish line. I will reflect and complete the process again at the Newport Half Marathon in October. This experience will become another reminder that I can do anything I set my mind to! That still doesn’t mean that I have to love every minute of it!

Eight Weeks to Go!

My coworkers and I just began our second round of Biggest Loser. I lost ten pounds during the first round, which only sounds impressive if I fail to mention gaining eight pounds between Halloween and New Year’s Day. That leaves me minus two pounds. The final weigh-in for the second round is May 7, the day after my first half-marathon. The long weekend runs should be advantageous through the contest.

We took a week off between sessions. During this time, I had an ear infection and unexpectedly had to have a wisdom tooth removed. As a result, my diet could be described as that of an unsupervised toddler. I left the oral surgeon’s office and went to Stop and Shop to full the prescription for mouthwash and pick up a few items to eat and drink during the next few days. I took a picture and sent it to Mike. You can only see four, but I actually purchased five types of ice cream: two half gallons, two pints of (low-calorie Moo-licious) Ben & Jerry’s, and ice cream sandwiches. Add three boxes of Mac and cheese, and you really have a feast meant for a three-year-old. (In my defense, I drove myself to the appointment, had a wisdom tooth removed with nothing more than some Novocain, drove myself home, and went to work the following day. I deserve all the ice cream I can fit in my mouth!)

I was able to get out for short runs Monday and Tuesday. Because I had not completed a long run last weekend, I was determined to get out this weekend. The weather is promising 12-18 inches of snow, making running much more difficult for the remainder of the week as well. Sunday was my only chance to go for a long run for at least a few days. I planned to go for at least five miles and see how I felt. It may sound weird, but my mouth had been throbbing while walking Banjo, something about walking along the road was incredibly painful. I took an extra Advil and hoped for the best. Maybe it was the Advil, but I felt good enough to

I managed to run eight miles! The sun shone, making it feel warmer, and the winds feel less harsh. I listened to a cheesy book along the way, making the miles go by easily. Towards the end, my legs got heavier and my pace slowed, but I completed the eight miles! After my strength class yesterday afternoon, I met up with BGR to complete short run. With the storm, I will probably not get out for another run for a few days.

I’m thankful that I signed up for the half-marathon six months ahead of the event, allowing plenty f time to prepare. As I get stronger, not necessarily faster, but definitely stronger, I know I am capable of completing the race in May!

Running is a “Get To”

Banjo and I during one of our spring-like runs last week!

My students often ask if they “have to” complete certain parts of assignments. My reply is always “No, you get to do that part.”

“Get to?”

“Yes. Get to.”

When we read I am Malala, there were many conversations about the importance of education. I remind them that the educational opportunities so many students here resist are the same ones Malala and her friends are willing to fight to receive. During our Socratic Seminars, we discuss the concept of education equaling freedom. Even before reading Malala’s book, directions have always been explained as “get to” rather than “have to.”

I had to remind myself this as I am getting deeper into half marathon training. I get to do this. I get to push myself, set a goal, and complete it. I may not reach that three hour goal the first time around, but I am nine weeks away from putting a “13.1” sticker on the back of my Subaru. (Yes, I am going to order it ahead of time and put it on my car before I leave the race!)

When I tell people I have been running, many times I hear reasons why they can’t, past injuries, bad knees, etc. I get to do something that many people cannot, even for short distances. As I go deeper into training, the goal is to run at least two short runs and one longer run each week. I’ve been managing two two to three mile runs after school and completing a long run during the weekend. Last Saturday, I set out with the goal to complete at least five miles, allowing enough time to shower and get ready for Liam’s first penance at 10:30. We experienced a Nor’easter the night before, leaving 150,000 people without power. Once I got to the fields near the airport, strong winds whipped my face. I’ve run in the cold; this was a whole other beast. I wasn’t feeling well. Also, I was sick and was having difficulty taking deep breaths due to a terrible sore throat. (A trip to the clinic Sunday revealed an ear infection.) I felt like it would be a failure if I turned around. However, running is a “get to.” If I miss a workout, it will be okay. The world will not end. I will not forget how to run. I called Mike to inform him I was on my way home. I managed to get out for two short runs later in the week.

Yesterday, I had a wisdom tooth pulled. (Yes, it has been a week!) My goal is to try to get out and run today after work. If it happens, great. If not, life will go on, and I will get in my long run Sunday. The world will be okay. I get to run. It clears my mind, makes my body stronger, and reminds me I can do great things.

What a Difference a Year Makes!

Last night, I went to Lippett Park for the next round of Beginning Runner’s Group. Exactly a year ago, many of us were meeting for the first time. We were nervous and timid. This time, hugs and laughter filled the air. Last night, we were the ones assuring nervous first timers that than can absolutely do this, that they will be able to run a 5k in June. All of the things that seemed unsure or impossible a year ago are part of my everyday life. I can run a few miles without stopping. I can run (interval) seven miles… in a row! I can set goals and know I will achieve them.

I love the support BRG provides. Without that support, I never would have been able to become a “real runner.” The thought of training for a half marathon would be as unfathomable as trying to hitchhike to the moon. Running has taught me that I can set goals, work towards them, and achieve them.

Running has taught me to appreciate what my body can do. Every Saturday morning, I track my measurements. While I have only lost five pounds during my year of running, I’ve lost ten inches. My feelings about food have changed dramatically; I no longer look at food as a reward or exercise as a punishment. For the first time in my life, I think I have managed that healthy, it doesn’t have to be all or nothing attitude towards food. While I would like to lose another ten pounds, my focus lies more in changing what my body can do rather than what it looks like.

Running has taught me that positive friends make all the difference. I’ve written about my awesome groups several times. I would never have the confidence to attempt a lot of my favorite memories from the past year if it weren’t for the encouragement of the people around me. I’ve stepped out my comfort zone countless times this year. I would never have done so without people cheering me on, keeping me accountable, and filling the training with laughs and conversation.

Running had taught me the importance of not just setting goals, but also being vocal about them. For years, I dreamed of being a runner. I was able to make that happen. When I signed up for the half marathon, I didn’t really tell people, still questioning my ability. Mike proudly started bringing it up in conversation with friends, “Tell ________ what you’re training to do.” Nervously telling people makes me more determined to reach this goal. I publically set my goals at the gym, writing them down for all to see. While talking about training last night, conversation leaned more towards how excited we were to crush this goal than how worried we were about running thirteen miles. Setting goals keeps me motivated and accountable.

By this time next year, I will have completed two half marathons. If they go well, I am going to throw my name into the New York City Marathon lottery, letting chance decide whether or not a marathon is in my cards. At this point, I would love to be able to tell my grandkids that I ran a marathon. I would love to be able to cross that goal off the bucket list. If it doesn’t happen, I will not beat myself up over it. I am too proud of what I can do to get hung up on where I haven’t made achieved (yet).

Perseverance

There’s a meme that makes the rounds every so often about working out not just for yourself but because your kids are watching. I love that Liam sees me as an active person. Last Mother’s Day, his class made “All About Mom” books. He wrote that I enjoy yoga. He knows that I run and train. I take classes in the adult side of the gym while he takes ninja classes. Most importantly, he watches me try to become better. He hears me talk about runs or races that didn’t go as planned. Last Monday, I talked at dinner about my failed attempt to PR my deadlift. When I ran seven miles last weekend, he hugged me, “Congratulations. You’ve never run that far. That’s a huge accomplishment.”

We often talk about the “power of yet,” the idea that it’s not a failure, you just haven’t succeeded yet. We remember things that used to be difficult that are easy now: climbing the wall at ninja class, place value, borrowing numbers in subtraction, etc. I’m so thankful that he understands that not everything goes your way the first time around.

This week, my college’s alumni association hosted an event at the Alex and Ani Ice Skating Center downtown. We never go out on weeknights but decided to make a special exception for a special occasion. Our first stop was the bumper boats, a new edition this season. Liam loved them! They were a lot of fun! We were paired up with a nice group and had a lot of laughs as we bumped into each other.

The second part of the evening was spent ice skating. I had only ice skated one other time, but I grew up roller skating and roller blading so I was able to skate around pretty easily. We rented Liam a snowman to help guide him around the ice. Because he had never even roller skated, he didn’t realize the basics. It took a few minutes to get him to realize he needed to push his skates to the side rather than one in front of the other like he as he went. Much like teaching him to ride a bike, there were a lot of steps involved that most people do without thinking.

Liam wanted to give up, but he didn’t want to leave the event. He kept at it, holding on to his snowman, the edge of the rink, and eventually skating on his own. A younger Liam would have cried and given up. This Liam kept with it, listening to feedback, watching me, and trusting that I would not let him get hurt. By the end of the night, he could on his own. He wasn’t fast. He wasn’t smooth, but he could do it. I am so proud of these moments when he is willing to struggle.

By the end of the night, he was done with pictures!

What I Should Have Said Two Weeks Ago

Two weeks ago, my friend’s mom passed away after a long illness. We were very close in college, grew apart after graduating, and recently reconnected. I was unable to attend the wake and have been rattling words inside my head, trying to think of the right thing to say to help ease the pain. This is a sampling of the randomness:

There is nothing I can say that will help you feel better. However, knowing that you are not alone in your grief is comforting. Sometimes, people will tell you that your mom is no longer suffering. That doesn’t make you feel much better; you wish you still had your mom here and that is okay. It is your grief, no one can tell you how to handle it. Other times, people are afraid of saying the wrong this and say nothing. If I’ve learned anything, saying something, acknowledging the pain, is always helpful.

Grief is going to hit you out of nowhere when you least expect it. This isn’t like a cold that you can nurse better in a week or so and go on with your life. Years later, something great/sad/silly/amazing will happen and you’ll think about telling your mom, only to have the sinking realization that you can’t. When my mom was in the nursing home, I used to call my mom every afternoon when I was getting on the highway after work. Eight years later, I still take different backroads to get to the highway, simply to avoid the reminder that I can no longer call my mom and tell her about my day. While spending Thanksgiving with my in-laws, I always think of my mom’s burnt dinner rolls, look at my mother-in-law’s perfectly cooked rolls, and tear up that I will never be able to make hockey puck roll jokes with my mom ever again. You will be able to resume day to day normalcy, but grief will come out of nowhere and hit you when you are not thinking about it.

For a long time after she’s gone, you’re going to remember your mom as perfect. It is okay to also recognize her flaws. I tell Liam about his Nana, who fought so hard to stay alive long enough to meet him, keeping to myself how angry I was when she told everyone I was pregnant long before I was ready to share my news. Freshly remembering the pain of discovering I was pregnant only to have it go away, I didn’t want to jinx myself or have to explain to people I was no longer pregnant if that happened again. My mom couldn’t help herself, sharing the good news with everyone she could. As time passes, things that used to drive you bonkers about your mom will become nothing more than entertaining quirks.

Signs are going to come when you expect them least and need them most. Don’t question how or why they happened. Appreciate the signs that a loved one is still watching over you.

I keep putting together these words, hoping for the courage to write them on a card and send them. I don’t want to appear like I am an expert on your grief. Your grief is different than mine, which is why there is not one magic formula for recovery. Knowing that you are not alone makes all the difference.