I Run for Boston

This week has undeniably been an emotional week. Regardless of whether you are from Boston or are a runner, the tragedies of this week have impacted everyone. 

Running for me has always been an escape, a "place" where anyone can be anything they want, or dream, to be. It's where I wrestle with bad days and tough situations and it's how I stay grounded when things get stressful. When I came home from work on Monday to see images of the world famous Boston Marathon and heard how an event that celebrates average people doing incredible things was shattered, it left my heart broken for so many different people and reasons. It was just pure unfair. How do we grapple with these things that happen for, really, no good reason? Where can we go to let our guard down and just be, when the one place I've always been able to go feels tainted? 

Sindy sent me an article written by Matt Frazier from No Meat Athlete that helped me to begin to make sense of my emotions. I shared it with other runners who I knew would appreciate having their same feelings expressed so well, knowing we weren't alone. Maybe it's because I never played a team sport growing up, but I love the sense of community there is in what is typically considered a individual sport. 

I was unsure about how to proceed the rest of the week. We've all been affected in our own ways. I feel slightly uneasy about loudly proclaiming my love, and just as Frazier noted, I wonder how I can run for people I don't even know. Nevertheless, we have all been impacted by these events, and I knew I had to just run to sort through and process it all. On Wednesday, I finally did that.

It was raining on and off during the run, which felt just right. While I think often about the impact running has had on my life, I thought about more than just that...about the connections and the kindness it brings into the world, about how so many people have already committed themselves to ensuring that the Boston Marathon is not synonymous with terror or bombing, but with love, dedication, and community, declaring that they will run it next year. 

I've always loved a Kara Goucher quote about how running allows us to see how wonderful life is....and while it feels wrong to say it, I guess that's what this run did too. We will never forget the horrific acts of that day, but we cannot give up and be defeated. We must dust ourselves off and keep going to prove that we won't let acts of terror and violence dictate our lives. 

Three Years!

This week marks the third anniversary of my running/blogging - wow! This chance to reflect on the impact running has had on my life has been important. As always, life gets so busy, and it's easy to make excuses. I don't just mean excuses to not work out, but excuses to cut out things that are important to us, just because they're not linked to work or "being productive." When there's an endless list of things to do, it's easy to drop off the "me" time, which for me, is really what running is.

Yesterday, I ran in my first 10k and it was great! In a nearly game day decision, Ryan decided to run with me and it made what could have been a cold and nerve-wrecking race fun and fast. At one point along the route, we were running behind two older women who had just connected while running. One of them may have had headphones in (or was just really loud), so it was easy to follow their conversation. It went something like this:


Lady 1: There you are! I was looking for you all morning.
Lady 2: Hi! Good to see you. Keep going. I don't want to hold you back.
Lady 1: No, don't be silly. I'm staying with you. I want to run together.
Lady 2: No, No. Go ahead. 
Lady 1: I don't want to go ahead. I want to run this with YOU!! 

This doesn't even do the scenario justice - it was perfect. People run for so many different reasons and whether or not one of those reasons involves other people, the camaraderie and relationships built and strengthened out on the road are truly priceless. I've gotten so much out of running, but when I think about the runs I've shared with friends, I am so thankful for this extra time together. I have no doubt that I wouldn't feel the way I do about running if it weren't for them - thank you!

After the 10k yesterday, we went to see David Sedaris speak/read and it was awesome. He was hilarious, and aside from being unable to walk after from my knees being so tight, it was a lot of fun. After his reading, he took questions from the audience and someone asked how touring had impacted his self-confidence and ego. He talked about how while at first he loved the applause and positive reinforcement from his audiences, he quickly realized how easy it was to dismiss this praise - "Oh what do they know?!" He talked about how being a writer from The New Yorker was what really solidified his feelings about and confidence in his work. Regardless of what people said, no one, not even he, could deny the fact that his work was good enough for The New Yorker. 

I immediately related to this. It's so easy to dismiss praise and compliments from others if we don't believe in ourselves. While I pride myself on being self-reflective, it's a challenge to avoid being my harshest critic, overlooking what is undeniably there. Thinking about this, I decided to see how much I had run over these past three years. Aside from a few indoor runs on the track, most of my runs have been logged through a few different apps/devices, so I set out to collect and crunch the numbers. The purpose isn't to boast or brag, but to give myself solid evidence that even I couldn't dispute. 

And now I have it. In three years, I've run 1179 miles over 270 runs - WHAT! That's nearly the equivalent of running from my current apartment in Michigan to my old one in Philadelphia....and then back to Michigan. My relationship with running is still far from perfect - I still dread, avoid, and skip runs. I still struggle to find the motivation to get out the front door. I still have days where something I've done dozens of times feels like it's the first time. Nevertheless, the time I've put into running over the past three years has had an incredible impact on my life and who I am. For me, running is more than one foot in front of the other. It's all the things that come along with it - the memories, friendships, accomplishments. It's the new places I've seen and the old places I've seen in a new light. Here's to another wonderful year of all these great things....and some running too :O).

Zoom In, Zoom Out

When I was landing in New Orleans on Tuesday morning, I loved the chance to test my geographical knowledge of a city I have now spent a significant amount of time visiting. The curves of the Mississippi can make navigating New Orleans a challenge for out-of-towners, so it was exciting to be able to local certain landmarks and neighbors in the area as we began our descent.

On the occasion that a city’s airport is actually near that city, it’s a good feeling to be able to identify certain sites and appreciate a familiar place from a new perspective. As we began to near New Orleans, I realized that my two favorite ways to see both my favorite cities and new places are completely the opposite – from the air and on foot.

On several trips down to New Orleans specifically, I’ve had the chance to run in different parts of the city. When I visited with my family a few years ago, an early morning run that looped through some downtown neighborhoods left me a much better understanding of what was what and how it all connected. When I went back last summer, I was able to explore even more parts of the greater city, seeing things I most likely wouldn’t have had the chance to if I weren’t running it.

Seeing cities from the air can be the same thing. You see them in a different way – who knew there were so many pools around here? – and the big picture provides you with a much different feeling than when you’re up close.

I think about my relationship with Philly, a city I feel so connected to, but in a unique way, having not grown up there. I can easily think of a handful of routes I’ve run throughout Philly – our usual jams in Manayunk, running up JFK through Love Park and to the Art Museum, the Independence circuit, tackling the Ben Franklin Bridge, crossing the East Falls Bridge, the Kelly Drive loop – and I feel all warm and fuzzy. I am grateful that I have not only spent time doing things in these places, but having run them makes that connection stronger. While I no longer know all the curves of Kelly Drive, I am confident that running was an avenue for me to get to know the city better, both on a geographically surface level and on an I-love-everything-about-you level.

No longer living in Philly, I not only love going back, but I love flying back (especially since it means 10 less hours in the car). The airport is in the perfect location for me to see it all in one big, beautiful picture. While I know and love all the separate parts, when I see the whole city together as one frame, it feels like a deep, fulfilling exhale. I guess it’s hard to explain if you don’t love places like I do, almost like they’re people, but just as our relationships with people grow as we do more together, so do our relationships with places. Seeing them from different angles – by foot or by plane – can add to our appreciation, and deepen our love.

Taking Risks

Good morning from high above somewhere in Pennsylvania! I’m en route to New Orleans via Cleveland and after indulging in some back issues of Runner’s World during takeoff, have decided to update the old blogaroo.

Spring break started last week and I feel so fortunate to have this built-in time to visit with family and friends, both locally and back home. Without the stress of work looming over me, I feel more at ease to go out with friends and enjoy being in the moment, something I struggle with at times on a day-to-day basis. This time with people I care about has allowed for many conversations with loved ones and while they spanned topics and level of seriousness, I noticed a common thread popping up in many of them: taking risks.

When I started running and “racing” (the act of running in races) just about three years ago, I was terrified. I knew it was a huge risk to not only set out to achieve such a huge goal, but to incorporate so many people who mattered so much me. I started blogging about running and through fundraising for the Serious Fun Network, worked hard to spread the word about what I was doing. When for the first time ever, I was running 4-11 mile training runs, it was constantly a thought in my mind that I had a lot to lose if I couldn’t accomplish what I set out to – time, confidence, face. When I think back to that first half-marathon and take the time to relive those feelings, I don’t question for a moment if the risks I took in committing to a half-marathon were worth it. The high of the day and the rush of every part of it were invaluable.

As I reflect on conversations I’ve had these past few days in particular, both with others and with myself, I think about how the fear of taking risks can control us. We are afraid of the unknown so it’s normal to want to play it safe, but when I think about what there is to gain, the picture changes. Instead of jumping off a cliff, it feels more like a roller coaster. When we choose to care about someone or something else (such as rooting a college basketball team and immediately feeling sick with nerves, hypothetically speaking of course), commit to a race or physical challenge, or apply for a new job or position, it’s scary. The fear of the unknown makes taking risks a mind game, but we must think about the benefits of doing so. Some races won’t go the way I want, relationships may cause us pain or grief, obstacles we set out to conquer may leave us on the wrong side of the mountain, but instead of focusing on what might not be, I think we need to focus on what can be. In a world of half-full and half-empty, it’s been proven that a positive, optimistic attitude can yield better results – results that might not be possible if you never dare to dream.

In the roller coaster of life, maybe all we can do is be our own biggest cheerleader, thrive off the high of the peaks in the ride, and remember that after the clink-clink-clink of the incline and the stomach-in-your-throat feeling of the fall, we almost are always ready to push through the turn-style and ride it again. 

10k Update

Over the past few weeks, I've been training for my first 10k race. I think this distance is exactly what I needed and I'm actually really excited for the run in April. I wanted something that was going to get me back into running without feeling pressure to cut out the other things I've enjoyed adding in, like Body Core at the gym and yoga. Knowing the 10k is coming up has been motivating and I'm really looking forward to running a race again, without the (self-imposed) pressure that comes with a half. 

That being said, it's still hard to ALWAYS be in the mood or mental place to run. Last Monday, it was rainy all day, but literally as I pulled back in Ann Arbor after work, the skies cleared and it was beautiful. I ended up running nearly a mile more than I set out to, which is not something I ever really do. I was so thankful for the sun, because I know what a difference the weather makes...especially when the rain wasn't as kind to me today. I wanted to stay inside and enjoy some extra free time at home, but when it came down to it, I knew I would regret skipping. As soon as I got home, I got dressed, threw on a hat (which I never wear, so what a good excuse to use it!), and headed out. The temperature was just above freezing, so the spitting rain was definitely cold at first, but once I got going, it felt great....as it always does!

So overall, training has been great, or, more importantly, exactly what I wanted it to be. I was excited to reward myself with a new pair of sneakers - the Brooks I currently have and love - but when I went to buy them last night, I realized they were out of stock in my size. The shoe is marked down, so I think it's being discontinued, so I'm a little bummed, but I'm sure there's another pair of brightly colored sneakers out there for me...sigh. 

Seventeen Again

Prior to the half-marathon last October, I knew I wanted to take some time to explore different interests I had. I knew I wanted to utilize my gym membership more and try out more of the classes they offer, especially since I knew I would be interested in running outside in the cold. Right around then, we started to plan for our wedding...and naturally, this became a factor in my working out and a reason to be motivated. It hasn't taken over in an overwhelming or unhealthy way - I haven't done anything atypical over the past few months, but just like any big event or upcoming vacation, it's definitely stirs things up a bit. I'm not sure whether I put it on myself or it's placed on by society, but there's this talk about going nuts to look your best on your wedding day. Of course I want to look great - who doesn't? - but it has to be a balance. I feel like the wedding pressure hasn't changed my routine or schedule...it's changed my guilt factor when I stray from the plan. 

Watching one of my new favorite shows, Biggest Loser, the amazing kid contestants who are on this season talked about and signed a "Body Treaty Pact." I was interested in it and looked it up. I almost had to laugh - it was written by Seventeen magazine - but as I read through it, I realized that 10, and even 20, 30, 40, years later, we're not too far from where we were as self-conscious teenagers. I enjoy running and working out, because of the way it helps me to look, of course, but also for the way it makes me feel. If I feel like I need to skip a workout to take time to do something else for myself or to spend time with people I care about, that's okay.  One of the points of the pact says, "Remember that the sun will still rise tomorrow even if I had one too many slice of pizza or an extra scoop of ice cream tonight."   It's true. Everyone is different and everyone reacts differently, so maybe I just need to know myself. We just have to know ourselves. 

My relationship with running and working out has evolved tremendously over the past few years and it will continue to, and for that, I'm thankful. The purpose of it in my life is to help me be the best me I can be. Of course that involves my health, but it's not just physical. It goes far beyond that. Naturally, our upcoming wedding will have an impact on my workouts, just as it has on every aspect of my life, but that's just it. I don't want to miss out on these incredibly exciting months feeling restricted or guilty about being a person and sometimes missing a workout because I'm busy...or I just don't feel like it. These months and this wedding are about love, but in order for someone to love you so completely, you must love yourself. 

Snow Day

Like a little kid, the prospect of a snow day left me antsy and restless last night. I woke up around 2AM and couldn't fall back to sleep. When I received the phone call at 5:30AM telling me that school was cancelled, I was again left tossing and turning. I finally accepted defeat and moved to the living room. We have a big window in our main room and I love just sitting looking outside on a snowy morning, when it's still dark and everything is quiet and still. When it started to get lighter outside and the sounds of plows and cars sloshing grew louder, I already missed that early morning calm.

It's been an emotional few weeks as I watch the Hope Express team prepare for their 135-mile journey, beginning next Thursday night. For the past two years, I have been right in the mix, spending these last days trying to keep my excitement from making me crazy. I'm thrilled to have a friend from college on the team this year and it has been helpful for me to have someone that I can vicariously experience the event through. Part of my decision to not try to run this year was so others could have that chance, so the HE family could continue to grow, and its message and purpose could reach even more people. Thinking about all that she will experience helps me to handle the fact that I will be missing out on a magical 24 hours.

This week, I've thought a lot about the past two years' runs. There are many things - a certain song, rereading through mail from my family and friends, photos, recap emails from other runners - that bring me right back to those moments. I am not sure if there are many other memories I have that can so clearly draw upon. These aren't just stills in my mind; the memories are accompanied with genuine, raw emotion. Feelings I feel all over again.

Yesterday afternoon, I thought about how in one week, the team would be arriving in Hershey, hanging out on the 7th floor, counting down the minutes until the first runner takes off.  As I lay awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, I thought again about how in a week from that very moment, as the rest of our worlds slept, the team would be making its way to Penn State. The calmness that I love on an early snow day reminds me of the legs I ran in the middle of the night when no one else was around. It's rare to feel like you have the whole world to yourself. How many people can say they've had that moment? 

I haven't been running much lately and that's okay. I've been exploring other interests and enjoying the fact that I have nothing I need to train for. I do miss that reason to run in the winter though. Most normal people don't seek out opportunities to run in the snow or in these bitter temperatures, but when I had it, I loved it. When I see those crazies nowadays, I am obviously judge them quickly...and then remember that I've been there. I too once unexpectedly fell in love with these things - an excuse to be outside when most people are struggling to peal themselves out from under the covers - and I eagerly await the chance to do it all again. For this amazing reason. For the kids :O).

Training for Hope Express 2011 in Philadelphia