Tag Archives: thoughts on life

Perspective

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Did I blog yesterday? No.

Was I going to blog yesterday? Yes.

So what happened? Well, consider my lack of communication an act of sparing readers from my down-in-the-dumps-ness. Yes, that makes sense.

You see, I had big plans for some positivity, some weekend recap, and some random banter. However, life chose to thwart that plan a bit—and alas, my ability to even fake happiness yesterday was completely zapped away. I didn’t feel I should divulge my feelings to the Internet, so I decided to follow the mantra that Mom always says, “It will be better in the morning.”

And you know what? It is. Sure, things are still pretty damn crappy, but thanks to my unavoidable optimistic hard-wiring, I’m feeling about 700% better than yesterday. And heavily caffeinated, which is a staple in the RB recipe book of creating a good mood.

But let’s back track a bit. Because despite my resentment toward the shit that’s gone down, I cannot leave you hanging like that. Note that I am wary about reporting personal, non-injury related bad news on my blog, however this isn’t so private. So, onward.

On Sunday, BF, my friend Anna, and I were headed east to do some hiking. BF was driving my car, while Anna and I followed in her own. To make a long story short, BF started going 30 on the highway, pulled over, we screwed around with some engine starting and stopping, and it was concluded that we needed to get the car towed. We still managed to get in our hike thanks to Anna’s vehicle, but at the end of the day BF and I spent our evening getting my beloved Glinda settled at an auto repair shop in West Seattle.

Gooooooooood times.

(Side note: AAA can see right through it when you try to get a membership after you need their services. In summary, get AAA before you need them—it’s worth it.)

Anyway, yesterday I went back to the auto shop with some high hopes for a simple, fixable, not-too-expensive diagnosis for my poor car.

Can you see where this is going?

Take the opposite of those high hopes, and that’s exactly what the mechanic got to tell me.

Essentially, my car needs a new engine, which including the labor involved in installing it, is going to come to oh just a little bit less than I initially paid for the car. Super duper fun times.

So, after a lot of discussion over what to do (you know how those conversations always need to happen in crappy car situations), I decided to bite the very expensive bullet and get my car fixed. It’s really, really not an ideal situation—but that was the best decision to make, and so all I can is move forward.

Other than feeling really bad for my car (she’s my baby!) and being pissed at the blow to my bank account, I was mostly just sad for all the things I wouldn’t be able to do/would need to put on hold due to this super inconvenient circumstance.

In truth, I was really just feeling sorry for myself. I spent most of yesterday alternating between crying and racking up a list of all the things I need to currently buy, pay off, and save for that will have to go to the back burner.

You know, because adding up all those things was really going to make me feel better about the whole thing.

It was a pity party to say the least, and while I’m still wallowing over the set-backs this will undoubtedly produce—the truth is, these things happen…and it’s going to be okay.

Sure, it sucks, and as a young 20-something I’m not exactly the most equipped person to handle the financial blow of it all. But, it really is all about perspective.

I might not be able to buy the road bike I’ve been planning on for a little while longer, but you know what? I’m still healthy, I’m still clothed, I’m still fed (a lot), and I’m going to be fine. There are many people who would have had to cut their losses completely in a scenario like this. And with that said, there are many people who don’t even have a car—nor the means of retaliating from a situation like this. When I can shift my perspective in that regard, it makes the whole scenario a lot more manageable.

Am I going to be paying an extra, hefty monthly bill for a while? Yes. But, it’s not the end of the world.

When I began realizing that this situation is only going to be as severe as I make it, I began to draw the same parallel to my lingering injury. The fact is, I’m still in pain, I’m still not feeling like I’ll be long running for a while, and I’m still in and out of very pissy moods about this whole thing. However, when I can pull out my better-self and think about this injury in the grand scheme of things, much like my car, it doesn’t seem to be such a big deal.

I can’t run right now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t run again. I know I keep repeating this (mainly because I have to keep re-telling it to myself) but all runners get injured. You are almost as much a runner when you’re injured as when you’re busting out PRs…it just comes with the territory. When I think about all the professional and Olympic-bound (Kara, I love you) runners whom I admire and look up to, it’s comforting to realize that all of them, at one point or another, has been sidelined—and, obviously, that never stopped them from doing great things.

Being a great runner isn’t about always being able to bust out a marathon on a whim or running fast every single day. It’s not even about times, podiums, or number of medals hanging in our houses. It’s about having the mentality that no matter what situation we’re in, whether sidelined or on the race course, all we can do is our very best. If we do that, there’s nothing to be disappointed in.

The transition from the whole car perspective thing to my injury reflection was a bit janky, I realize, but I think the biggest lesson I’m coming to terms with is that no matter what the scenario…everything will really be okay. In the big picture, hiccups happen, but they are only as big as we make them out to be. Even when we’re feeling overwhelmed, sad, or generally pissed off at the things that have brought us down, it’s so important to remember that we are still in control—no matter our feelings to the contrary. Because we are…we just need to keep the reigns in our own hands instead of letting our emotions and stress take them away.

Okay, enough serious stuff. I will leave you with some pictures from the weekend, instead of detailing all the adventures. As I said on Friday, my friend Anna came to visit me, and we had a wonderful time. Here is some documentation of that wonderfulness in photos. Spoiler, there was a lot of food involved.

Ikea! Please note our new indoor tree. Name yet to be determined.

A trip to Via Tribunali in Upper Queen Anne was the ticket for our Saturday night feeding, and it did not disappoint in the least.

Whole bottle of wine at dinner, check.

…And what goes better with a bottle of wine than a huge floppy pizza? This was all mine, in case there was any confusion.

BF approves.

And obviously after you are full of wine and pizza…the next best move is for…

Molly Moons ice cream! No, both are not mine, this time…

 

So, obviously I have a certain tendency to take pictures at meals. No need to photograph our beautiful hike, or any other activities for that matter apparently…I promise to get better at this!

So, regardless of the car mishaps, my weekend was certainly fantastic, and I’m thankful to have such a wonderful friend who will venture across the state to eat, play, and laugh with me.

 

I hope your week is going well so far! And if it’s not, try taking some control over your situation, and remember that although things could be better, they could always be worse as well. And if all else fails, go find yourself a pint of B&Js, or a puppy to play with. Strangers’ puppies are perfectly acceptable. 

 

100 Posts

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Hello!

Thanks to my good friends at WordPress and their stellar programming math skillz, it has come to my attention that I have reached 100 blog posts.

Woo! Big numbers!

I realize in the blog and internet scheme of things, 100 is minuscule. However, it’s all relative…and for someone like me who really just figured out how Twitter and Facebook work,  100 is big.

In honor of 100 posts, I’ve decided to talk a bit about the things I’ve learned through being a part of this cyber blogging and running world. Some good, some bad, some ugly (see: missing toenails), but overall…I’ve gained a whole lot more than I ever thought possible from being a part of you people, and I’m happy for it.

Let’s hope to it then.

I’ve learned that I’m really not that crazy.

Well, okay, yes I’m that crazy.

However, for a while I thought I was alone. I thought that preferring to run many miles on a Saturday morning over a Friday late night bar crawl made me somewhat of a freak. And sure, maybe it does. But there are other freaks out there! Hooray for unity over hydrating and carbo-loading!

Occasionally, I do love a night out, a day off, and generally just being lazy. But, for the most part, I consider my love of consistently being active and ready to run very unusual, and before having a blog…I barely talked about it with my friends and people I knew. I wasn’t embarrassed, necessarily, but I didn’t want to feel like I was “showing off” or trying to get attention. Because that’s never been what my running’s about. Honestly, I would actually downplay my answers when people asked me how many miles I ran every week or how often I worked out, because I didn’t really feel like explaining myself away to people who just weren’t going to get it.

Not that there’s anything wrong with not getting it. But I was happy letting other people do their thing, while I did mine.

I was kind of a secret runner, I suppose you could say, and with this came a tendency to think of myself as a bit of an outsider.

Joining a community of running addicts like myself has really helped me to realize that I’m not all that strange at all, and in fact—marathon training and hard workouts can be something to be proud of. Sure, I do tend to feel gloaty sometimes and I still tend to shy away from discussing my training with other people…but reading about the running other women my age are doing really makes me feel like I’m part of something other than just my own seclusive habits.

I’ve learned that I really, really love to write.

In reference to the above “lesson” I’ve learned, you might be wondering…if I shy away from talking about training, why would I have a blog where all I talk about is miles and cookies and sweating?

Good question.

I actually started my blog primarily because I love to write. My love of writing has existed for much longer than my love of running, and it’s actually the catalyst for why I started my blog.

I began reading lots of books and articles all about running. I didn’t really realize that this literature on running was out there, and all at once it seemed it was all coming at me like wild fire. I loved it, I couldn’t get enough of it, and it made me want to run and train even more.

It was actually a book about running that really jolted me to run my first marathon. Not to sound like every other American recreational runner-turned-marathoner, but it was Dean Karnazes’ book “Ultramarathon Man” that made me think, “Wait a minute, I can do that!”

Not long after I did my first marathon, I somehow stumbled upon some running blogs. In all honesty, I never used to read blogs, and I kind of thought they were a place where people were more honest about their lives than they were in the real world or on Facebook…which, unfortunately, some people think of as “the real world.”

In a nutshell, I thought blogs were for internet shut-ins who would rather spend time in the virtual world than with their friends or family.

I was wrong.

I started finding blogs of girls who were runners, and they were exactly like me. I felt like I was reading my own writing with some of these blogs, and I found myself coming back to them every day. The more I read…the more I admitted the truth to myself: I wanted to start my own. Because if there’s one thing I love more than writing and running, it’s writing about running.

As you can probably tell at this point, I can get a little metaphysical and deep when it comes to talking about running, I will totally own it.

But it’s who I am…and it’s been through writing that I’ve realized that running is so much more important to me than just calorie burning and leg toning. In fact, when it comes down to it, those things are in last place on the list of reasons why I love running. Having a blog has helped me realize that…and it’s through all the writing and reflections that I’ve done about this sport that I’ve really broken down the true essence of why I love to run.

Additionally, I am convinced that having this blog has helped my professional writing as well. For those of you who don’t already know, I’m a magazine editor by day, meaning a lot of my job requires writing in all different shapes and forms. Articles, reviews, interviews, press releases, newsletters…you name it, I’ve written it. And I’m finding that the writing is coming easier to me than it used to, and I think that has a lot to do with the more fun, quirky ranting I do here.

Practice makes perfect no matter what it is you’re practicing, and writing definitely qualifies in that regard.

I’ve learned that it’s important to step away from our computers.

It’s not that I didn’t really know this before, but I’ve realized recently that while it’s fun and exciting to check in on our blogging friends via Twitter, new posts, Facebook, etc. whenever they have something new to share…it’s also really important to get away from it all as well.

It’s really easy to get super caught up in the on-goings of the virtual world. And why not? We start to feel like we know the people that we follow, and that follow us, so it’s easy to spend our time procrastinating looking for what everyone is up to. This is all fine and well, however I know I can warp myself into a little black hole sometimes by spending too much time staring at my screen’s reality as opposed to living in my own.

I catch myself when I’m out away from my computer and I find myself thinking about something or someone that I only know of because of my internet relationship. This, I am sure, is normal in this day and age, but frankly I don’t like that it takes me away from whatsoever I’m doing, you know, in my real life. I love my internet peeps, don’t get me wrong…but there’s something to be said for getting away from our alternate reality and just being.

It’s the same reason, on a lesser scale, that I like to run without music. Or, how BF and I don’t check our phones when we’re on dates.

Thanks to technology ruling both our working and social lives in the modern world, it is inevitable that we will spend countless hours engrossed in the happenings on a small screen.

This is not how we, as social beings, were meant to live, though.

So be proactive and take some time outs. Everything will be there when you get back, and I promise your Twitter feed is highly more enjoyable when you check it after a weekend as opposed to a couple of minutes.

I have learned that we’re really not alone.

When something good or bad happens, it’s easy to feel we are in a category all our own.

We run our first half marathon faster than we expected? Huzzah! We must be Superwoman.

We get hurt and can’t run for a few weeks? The universe obviously hates us and we were never supposed to be a runner in the first place.

(WTF tense was that? I don’t know. Leaving it. Lazy.)

Here’s the fact of the matter:

If you run your first half, full, or whatever distance faster than you thought…that really is super awesome, and you should consider yourself a Super(wo)man.

If you are hurt and can’t run, that really does suck, and I’m sorry.

But, reality check…there have been and will be many, many, many more people in the same scenario as you. It doesn’t make your accomplishments any less great, or your hardships any less easy, but the fact of the matter is you are far from the first to experience (fill in the blank____), and that’s okay.

Take some comfort in the fact that others can relate to you.

Injured and not sure what to do? The wonderful thing about the internet (and the blogging world) is that there are positively more injured people out there that would love to commiserate with you. They may even be able to help or offer some advice.*

*Take all injury research and advice via the internet with a grain of salt, as you may wind up self-diagnosing leg cancer when you actually have shin splints.

The same idea goes for accomplishments. We should  absolutely feel proud of the things we do that we worked hard for and ultimately achieved. Celebrate. Tell everyone. Go nuts.

But, don’t be disappointed when you read ten other stories just like yours. They don’t take anything away from you, and they don’t make what you did any less spectacular…they are simply a reflection that other people want to do cool things too. Instead, you should celebrate with those people. A party is much more fun when there’s lots of folks involved, so just as other people root for you and encourage you in your training endeavors…pay it forward, and join in on the virtual cheer-leading brigade.

On that same note. Let other people inspire you! I know that while I might be envious of girls my age who have already run Boston-qualifying times or competed in Ironman races, I can turn my jealousy into fuel. These stories inspire me to reach further, dig deeper, and I love getting new ideas for races or training plans from the bloggers I admire and who inspire me.

I’ve learned that following the training and racing of other people can be just as fun as doing it yourself.

I never, ever, thought I would be someone who regularly followed blogs or commented on the ramblings of other people. The extent of my internet exploration ended with Facebook and Gmail, and everything else was for people who were much more tech-savvy and social media smart.

Now, I’m still not tech savvy, nor too skilled at hash-tagging or making YouTube videos, however…I know that something I look forward to each day is reading up on the trials, tribulations, and sweat of the lady runners I follow. (Really wanted that list to be alliterative, dang.) I think it’s really exciting to watch someone’s progression from a 5k runner to a marathoner, or a marathoner to an ultra-marathoner.

No matter the level, I love to read about people who run. Running is the underlying thread that unites us all, and despite the different locations, interests, and ages, I love that the running blogging community is held together through the pure love of putting one foot in front of the other.

My favorite thing about running is the simplicity of it. It’s primal, it’s natural, and it’s the way we were meant to get around. People who write about running get this, and I love connecting, if even just through a comment box, with others who understand the need to run.

So there you have it. Some things I’ve learned through writing about running and a bit of my blogging story thrown in there as well.

After 100 posts, countless miles, injuries, races, comments, tweets, meet-ups, emails, etc. I want to say THANK YOU to every single one of my readers. Your words and feedback make this space so enjoyable and fun for me, and I appreciate all the advice, laughs, and random tidbits you share with me. I’m looking forward to much more writing, running, and reading with you—all with a heaping spoonful of cookie dough and a Nuun-filled water bottle on the side.

Happy Monday!!

Post-Race Reflections and Ramblings

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Slowly but surely (emphasis on the slowly, namely my walking speed), I am returning back to normal since the *excitement* from Sunday. I have done a little yoga, a little swimming, a lot of sleeping, a lot of horrific foam rolling, and drowned myself in frozen yogurt—all of which are helping to cleanse away the fear and the beating endured in the race.

A BIG thanks to those of you who’ve offered your support, condolences, and general affirmation after reading my lengthy race recap. I truly appreciate your kind words and happy thoughts.

There are many things that have been going on through my head since Sunday, and I think I have started to unwind from the pure shock of it all into some more grounded, realistic thoughts. However, I am still quite askew in terms of my rationalization of the whole thing, and while there are a number of words I could use to describe my current state of mind regarding running, marathons, etc., I think the one prevailing thing I’m feeling is frustration.

Now, before I dive into the specifics of this frustration, let me first say that I realize there are many different opinions on how I decided to run my race on Sunday. I have heard everything from ballsy and inspiring to reckless and stupid (I believe the phrase”psych exam” was in there somewhere), and I want to say that you are entirely entitled to your own opinion.

Personally, in terms of how I view it all, I think that I fall somewhere in the middle. On one hand, I know that I should have never put myself in that kind of danger, and I’m mad at myself for scaring my loved ones and myself by not realizing I’d reached my limit. On the other hand, and I say this with marginal reluctance, but the truth is—I can’t say that I would have run that race any other way. For better or for worse, my mind was stronger than my body on Sunday, and while I will absolutely need to keep this in check, I am also not surprised it happened.

It might be stubbornness, it might be idiocy, it might be determination, or it might be an alternative chromosome—no matter how you characterize my mindset during this race, all I know is that it is 100% who I am as a runner, an athlete, and a person. Which is part of the reason this race has left me feeling frustrated, among other things, and I’m having a hard time trying to reconfigure how to prioritize my goals from here on out.

Part of me wants to run for fun for the rest of the year; just running without regimin or goal time in mind—simply for the love of it. The other part wants to run so many marathons that I’m able to drown out the memory of what happened in Tacoma. I am certain I will land somewhere in the middle eventually. Frankly, I don’t like that a sport I love so much and a sport I hold in such high regard chopped me to pieces so quickly. I spent months preparing to run this marathon—I was ready for it, I was both mentally and physically chomping at the bit to do well, and in 3 hours and 44 minutes it punched those months of hard work right in the face. Well, in the IT band, the hamstrings, the quads, and the calves—to be more specific. It was my own fault, I know that, but at the same time I feel like I was cheated by the laws of all marathon running and general athletic endeavors.

Allow me to explain: Every single sports mantra, coach, PE poster, whatever will tell you, “Pain is weakness leaving to body,” “You’re stronger than you think you are,” and “To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift” (yes, I needed to include Pre). Since a very early age, we’ve heard all these mantras, and we’ve been told to believe that our bodies are much stronger than our mind allows them to be. Unfortunately, I internalized these ideas too much on Sunday—and I crossed over the line of my physical potential to my physical limitations.

The entire time I was running, particularly when it started to get really difficult, I told myself all these “mind over matter” sayings—I convinced myself that of course it was hard, it’s a marathon! I thought that the pain I was experiencing was the kind that everyone feels, and all I had to do was push it further—because I was stronger than any mental downfall or shortcoming. I knew I was in good enough shape to run a marathon, in fact I was in better shape than I was for my first 26.2, so the pain I was feeling must have been due to the hills and the speed—not to my own physical deficiency.

I realize how prideful this sounds, and it absolutely is, but more than anything it’s my obscene competitive nature. I am competitive with others, have no doubt, but my most fiery, ruthless competitive drive is with myself and my own goals. So despite knowing I was in more pain than I should have been, and despite knowing that running an 8:10 pace over 26 hilly miles was incredibly ambitious, I could not let up holding myself up to my highest standard.

I knew qualifying for Boston on this course was going to be miraculous. I said this to BF, to my family, and I thought that I knew it myself. However, I also knew, in the murky, victory-craving corners of my brain that it was still possible. I knew that if I had ideal conditions, perfect taper, and a little bit of race magic—I would be able to pull it off, even on a hard course. And…I suppose this was accurate, because had I not literally fallen at mile 26, there is a very good chance I would have qualified. However, instead of letting my training, the course, and the miracle come to me…I forced it, and that was my mistake.

I should have realized earlier in the race that should I qualify, the factors leading up to it wouldn’t be entirely in my control. Because despite how much we’d like to think it, miracle races (as BQing in Tacoma would have been) require a little something more than all the training and preparation we put into them. They require that certain race day magic that lights us up when we need it, and it’s somewhat intangible and undefinable. Unfortunately, I decided to forego the whole “let it come to you” notion and instead decided to make my own miracle happen. Once the image of myself crossing the finish line under a 3:35:59 clock got locked in my head, I couldn’t let it go—even though when I started feeling the wall around mile 19, I should have.

So instead of obeying the rules of “the wall,” something I had never before experienced, I decided to try and run right through it…and then when that didn’t work, I backed up and ran right back into it, over and over again. The funny thing though about walls is that they don’t move, and all that endless beating against my own wall ended up withdrawing every ounce of strength I had in me. I am sure that had I backed up my pace even a tiny bit, all the conditioning I knew I had within me would have regained a bit of control and I would have finished the race in a great time. I couldn’t accept “a great time” though, because I was chasing the 3:35 beast the entire race, and despite all the fire and poison it was spitting at me, I was determined to pin it down.

So, what do I take from all this? Well, there are many things—but more than anything, I think I have learned that on Sunday, my mental conditioning was stronger than my physical conditioning. So often our brains tell us to stop while our bodies have the ability to keep going—however, I experienced the opposite. I didn’t listen to my body, I brushed off my pain as durable, and eventually my mental stamina outlasted my body to the point where my body decided to no longer function.

There is, furthermore, a line between pushing to your limits and exceeding your limits—and this is something I had never really realized or grasped before. I’ll admit I’m a bit confused and worried about the line dividing “far” and “too far,” because up until Sunday, I believed we were capable of anything we set our minds too. Which I still believe…but now to a certain degree. I suppose what I will need to work on more than anything is listening to my body as opposed to pushing myself solely on brain determination.

At this point, I know I have the mental strength to get through a marathon…perhaps too much, and that is something I can still count on the drive me when the going gets tough. However, I am now going to have to work on deciphering between working to my full potential and working beyond my capabilities. Because, yes, I do have limitations…and despite the fact that my self-righteous subconscious would scoff at such a statement, it is the truth—as it is for everyone.

So where does that leave me? Well, I am going to continue to recover, reflect, and eventually I’ll get brave enough to put on my iPod and lace up my shoes. I’m actually still unable to listen to any of the songs I listened to on race day, and even seeing the clothes I wore gives me a bit of a shudder. No doubt, full recovery from this marathon—particularly the metal part—is going to take a while. However, I never shy away from an opportunity for self-improvement, and I’m happy to accept all the humility and re-prioritization it takes to get myself back in the swing of things.

 

I realize this post was rather stream-of-consciousness and didn’t have much of a thread running through it (I suppose not too many of my posts do though 🙂 ). However, this post was very expressive of the way my brain is working right now—just trying to process it all and regain a little composure. I ultimately just needed to get some of my thoughts down, and now that I have I feel a bit freer.

And now, because I am FASCINATED by this right now:

When is “pushing yourself” too much? Where do we divide the line between fighting through the pain and accepting it? Do you think runners are particularly susceptible to this kind of thinking?

Sharing the Miles and Marathon Week!

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Good morning!

To all of you who raced this weekend, all I can say is, “WOW.”

Based on my Twitter feed, Google Reader, and Facebook, this weekend was uber full of some  super impressive races, PRs, and general love for running. For everyone who ran Eugene, there wasn’t a report I heard that wasn’t super inspiring and impressive, and although a big part of me wishes that I was running into Hayward yesterday morning, I know my time will come in (less than!) 6 days. All the race reports and running-love made me so so excited to race this weekend, and I just wish I didn’t have to spend 6 days in nerve-wracking anticipation.

Actually, 5 days, 20 hours, and 33 minutes, if we’re being precise which obviously I am not.

Through all the absorption and admiration going on with so many fellow lady runners out there, my race-week excitement is full speed ahead. All I’m thinking about is race strategy, time goals, Body Glide, carbs, proper bib pinning, and a dynamite playlist. All these thoughts go through my head, and then they just repeat themselves in a slightly more detailed, fleshed out version. (You know, as if I didn’t already think about running enough.) It’s a scary place to be, but all-in-all I am just feeling psyched.

I trust my training, no doubt, but at this point I’m really trying to fine-tune my mental game. I know that if there’s one thing in which I have an advantage, it’s my ability to push through the hard parts. I think it’s a combination of being super stubborn and super competitive, but whatever it is— it typically works toward my advantage when the miles get tough. It’s what gave me three sub-8 minute miles at the end of my first marathon, and it’s what I’m hoping will carry me along the hilly Tacoma course.

I can’t wait.

Well, I’m going to have to, but fortunately there are some fun things happening along the way!

For starters, my birthday is tomorrow, which is definitely fun to have on race week. Although I would like to celebrate with a long sweaty run, I’ll have to dial it back to a shorter one—but it’s all worth it in the name of proper tapering. Also, today I’ll be going to my first practice for the Girls on the Run organization, which I’m really excited for.

GOTR is a non-profit that gives elementary school girls the opportunity to train for a 5k with an older “running buddy.” Their mission states: “We inspire girls to be joyful, healthy and confident using a fun, experience-based curriculum which creatively integrates running.”

Good stuff, obviously something I am in full support of, and I can’t wait to meet my new 5th grade friend today 🙂

And in a completely appropriate yet unplanned transition, I want to share with you the Runner’s World quote of the day from Friday, which really spoke to me. I totally didn’t actually see that transition coming, it just worked out. Isn’t that nice? Good job coincidental blog structuring.

“Running is not, as it so often seems, only about what you did in your last race or about how many miles you ran last week. It is, in a much more important way, about community, about appreciating all the miles run by other runners, too.”

Now, I know that quote is dripping with Kumbaya cheesiness, but it really is true, and it’s one of the reasons I wanted to join the world of running bloggers in the first place. I think it’s really easy to get consumed in our own training regimens, our own goals, and our own routines (weird I know…humans, self-consumed creatures?!). And although these levels of focus are fine, I’ve found that reaching beyond my own running schedule and learning about the lives of other runners has been one of the most enriching and inspiring aspects of this sport. It’s why I get so giddy and excited by reading race reports of bloggers that I follow: following their training schedules and their progress is so intriguing and inspiring, and it helps the rest of us step outside of our own routines.

I really love this “sharing” nature that most every runner seems to have. Almost all the runners I’ve come across, both in my real life and around the virtual-running world, are always willing to talk about running and exchange as much information as possible with other runners. It seems simplistic, of course runners love talking about running, but what I really love is just how interested and encouraging the running community can be. A lot of people in the blogging community have never even met each other in real life, and yet everyone is so excitedly amped about each other’s running reports.

And sure, strangers exchanging enthusiastic, “Kill it!”s and “So proud of you!”s throughout cyber space may seem a bit strange, but as a runner—I really think it stems from one root commonality we all share: a pure, unconditional love of this sport.

Running does something to us that cannot be matched in any other vacinity. It takes us to our happy place, the place where we can shed all the other skins and hats we wear in favor of being totally and completely  ourselves. Once we discover this existential love for running, it cannot be broken, and we become completely enamored.  The only outlet for this love, besides writing poetic/creepily obsessive blog posts and sending up love and praise to the run gods above, is to talk about it with other people who feel the same way.

A love for running is a tie that binds no matter who we are, and I love this about runners. I love that despite how super competitive and consumed with our own goals we become, we are almost equally willing to share enthusiasm, encouragement, and advice to all other runners out there—no matter what level they’re at.

So, with that said, all of you out there whom I have been able to share my trials and victories with surrounding this sport, I thank you so very much for your support. And those of you who have shared your journeys with me—thank you for inspiring me every single day. I have loved sharing all your miles right along with you. Blogging and reading other blogs, books, and articles by other runners has given me so much more love and respect for this sport. And the best part? I feel like it’s just the beginning.

And in case you didn’t think I woke up this morning thinking, “RACE WEEK, RACE WEEK, RACE WEEK,” let’s take a look at what I subconsciously put on to wear today:

I woke up approximately 6 minutes before taking this, so please accept my "I'd rather be horizontal" sleepy eyes.

PSYCHED. Tacoma, get ready.

 

Did you race this weekend? How did it go? Or, why is it you think runners perpetually geek-out over long runs, Nuun, and race numbers together?

My Year Without a Scale

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I’m going to do something that I normally really dislike doing. It’s something that I very actively and purposefully try and not talk about both on my blog and in real life, and there are a number of reasons why. This topic-that-shall-not-be-named revolves around an issue that we, namely females, inevitably think about all too often, whether we like to our not.

What we weigh, how we look, and the changes we think “need” to be made to our bodies.

As runners, these are issues we face in a somewhat different way than the average female. Fortunately, I think most of us know that we need proper fuel, and we understand that our bodies are only going to work most effectively if they are fed and fed often. However, at the same time, we want to maintain a lean, strong physique so that our speed and endurance stays high. So, although our activity level typically allows us to concentrate a bit less on being uber-healthy all the time, and more on extra pasta consumption, we are still faced daily with “body thoughts.”

And to be frank, I really don’t like body thoughts, and I don’t like that this topic seems to be all girls talk about when they get together.

I will 100%, totally admit to being victim of the looming thoughts of what if I gain weight, what if my jeans look tight, or if I should really have another piece of candy. I’m not going to pretend that I’m somehow past all these tendencies, and in fact I’m far from them. However, this does not mean that I think we, as women, should be incessantly, communally discussing these things.

I think constant body talk between women is one of the most toxic scenarios we can engage in, and it’s a slippery slope to go from simple talk about workouts and favorites foods into diets we “should” be doing and why we’re somehow not up to par with the perfect arms, the perfect stomach…you get it. I think it’s way too easy for women to get caught up in these discussions (myself included) because unfortunately we are hardwired (Thanks, every women’s magazine on the market) to think them each and every day, and when we’re offered an outlet to free these thoughts—we jump at them. Conversations of substance and self-fulfillment are completely drowned by our tendency to jump on “What I Ate Today” talk, and personally I very actively avoid fostering these conversations.

I have been around them, I have vehemently participated in them, and I have realized that I no longer want to be around them. This is one of the biggest reasons I don’t tend to talk about these things on my blog, and I try and surround myself with people who would rather talk about margaritas and fro-yo than diets and losing 5 pounds.

I haven’t always been this way though, and I do still contradict myself. But I am making very purposeful strides in surrounding myself with people, both in real life and in my virtual readings, that focus on all the great things going on instead of all the things they wish they could change.

So, with all that said, I’m going to delve a bit into this topic I dislike so very much. But I promise, it will have a dignifying ending and it will be chalk-full of lessons I’ve learned myself and I think other people could benefit from as well.

Yesterday marked a one-year anniversary, and one that I am quite proud of. It has been exactly one year since I have stepped on a scale. That seems NUTS to me! I’ve never been super intent on weighing myself, however I can guarantee I have never gone this long in my life without any precise knowledge of what I weigh. Well, in my post-pubescent life I suppose. I remember the last time I was on a scale so precisely because it was at a doctor’s appointment for my hip injury, and I can conscientiously remember at that time thinking, “If I hate getting on the scale, why do I always look at it when I’m at the doctor?”

Now, in no way am I shaming anyone who likes to keep tabs on what they weigh. For a lot of people I think it has some good accountability effects, and it helps keep their fitness goals in check. However, I am willing to bet that there are very few females out there who have a “healthy” relationship with the scale. One number off from where we’d “like” the reading to be can throw us into a panic attack about what we’re doing wrong, what we should be doing more (or less) of, and essentially all the reasons why we are failures. We step on the scale hoping for justification, either a number at or below what we imagine to be “ideal,” because if that number appears we feel justified and successful.

Again, there’s nothing wrong with feeling a sense of success if you are actively trying to lose weight and there’s a certain number you want to scale to read. However, for the rest of us, those of us who eat healthy enough, exercise frequently, and try and maintain an at-least somewhat healthy lifestyle, I think the scale can be your absolute worst enemy.

If you are proactively living a healthy life, why should you need some number to define that success? If you feel healthy, if you feel good, then that should absolutely suffice as a means of self-satisfaction. Scales are completely variable, and the number can be altered by any assortment of factors; how much water you’ve recently drank, when your last meal was, when you last went to the bathroom, how much sodium you have in you, etc., etc. I could weigh myself on two back-to-back days and the scale may say something entirely different depending on the number of chips and guac I ate, or simply the clothing I’m wearing.

{The number of chips and guac I consume in a sitting can most often be defined as “all of them,” if you need some clarity}

The point is, the scale tricks you, and you are a much more reliable source of information regarding your current state of self-content. Many people think that numbers on a scale are more tangible and specific than, say, the way our clothes fit or—gasp—how we feel about ourselves. Thanks Cosmo, Women’s Health, Shape, and every other “credible” health news source for constantly berating us with this memo. I believe that it is the thought that you are only as good as the number on the scale that has completely given numbers and scales all the power, and I think this mentality is completely backward.

I remember when I was in my mid-to-late teens I would sometimes ask my mom how I looked, if I looked like I’d gained or lost weight, etc. Now, there were definitely times when the real answer was, “Robyn, you are a freshman in college and you’ve been living off alcohol and dorm pizza for a semester, what did you expect?” But, my mother, bless her, did not say this. In response to my pleads for if I looked like I had gained weight, she replied, “Well, how do you feel?”

And this is the question I still ask myself, as an alternative to stepping on a scale—and it has become a much healthier and freeing way to live. When I finish a long run, and I’m caked in sweat and salt and desperate for a huge bagel, am I thinking about what the scale says?

Hell the F no.

I feel fantastic, I feel accomplished, and I feel healthy—all completely independent of whatever number the scale would say if I stepped on it. By deciding to not weigh myself, I have started to regain the power over my self-satisfaction and established a valuable understanding of how to be my own judge.

Are there times when I’m curious what I weigh? Sure. Having gone through two marathon training cycles, I am marginally interested to see if there’s been any affect. But that interest is rooted in the part of me that still subscribes to Women’s Health and thinks about how I could probably afford to stop eating desserts every night. Instead, I prefer to think about it like this:

I have legs that can run 26.2 miles in a row

I have arms that can do more push-ups that any Barbie-arm girl could ever think of.

I have a stomach that always enjoys cookies, beer, and bread baskets.

I have feet that look like a car ran over them, and all semblance of pedicured toes has been gone for years. But it’s because they’ve spent hours stuffed in running shoes, pounding on the ground, and carrying whatever-it-is I weigh up and down hills, through the snow and rain, and over hundreds of miles.

And guess what? I love these things about myself. I love them more than any “ideal” number on a scale could ever say, and whenever I start to think that there’s a certain standard I’m unable to reach, I remind myself that the body I do have is the one that has given me so many more rewards and accomplishments than I could have every hoped for.

My year without a scale has also been a year when I became a marathoner, when I started to rid myself of toxic conversations and acquaintances, when I started a blog, and when I realized that if I eat healthy, stay active, and focus on the positive—why should a certain number of pounds matter? I don’t think this is a coincidence. I think that by letting the scale rest in the metaphorical cobwebs, I have begun to unlearn the self-deprecating habits that unfortunately hold almost every female in our society captive.

It is this new mentality that has made me very adverse to discussions and blog posts regarding weight loss, weight gain, and body talk in general. Again, I’m not immune to it and I probably have at least one “I wish this was different…” thought every day. But, by ridding myself of the scale and focusing on what my body can do as opposed to what it’s not doing, or looking like, I feel much more free and in control.

So, what is the underlying point to all this? Well, I’m not telling you to stop weighing yourself or to throw your scale in the dumpster (although such a move would be epicly super-female-empowering-movie-esque, and you should send me a picture). But, I am encouraging all my lady friends, relatives, and readers out there to concentrate more on all the things we do have going for us, as opposed to all the things we wish was different. Because this much I know is true: The way you “think” you should be is frequently not your opinion at all; it’s the opinion we have been forced to believe with every goddamn ad, magazine, movie, tv show, and photo out there. If you are living a healthy life, you are exactly the way you’re supposed to be, and that is absolutely something to be fist-pumping proud of.

Sometimes I get really You Go Girl about things, and this is one of them. If you disagree with some of the things I’ve said, that’s totally fine—I realize a lot of these thoughts are my opinion and you’re welcome to think differently. But, no matter what you believe, allow me to please encourage you to think about how you measure your self-worth. More likely than not, you’re going to discover the unfortunate reality that we rely very heavily on pop-culture “information” as our instruction book for self esteem. This isn’t right, and I think we owe it to ourselves to regain the power in the battle each of us faces every day. Because we do have that power, and it’s our’s for the taking if we choose to redirect our energy and attention in more constructive and positive lights.

 

Have you ever broken up with the scale? Do you think there’s any value in them? Is there anything to be gained by discussing our body issues with our female friends? This is the only time I’ll ever ask these types of questions, so speak loudly!

Reconsidering the “Racing Factor”

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Hello!

I’m currently writing from the sunshine filled land of Pasadena, California- quite literally; I’m sitting outside on my grandparents’ back lawn soaking up some rays and basking in vacation relaxation. Things have been quite lovely so far in Spring Break world, and I’m happy to say that I’ve been very conscientious to work on something that is often times very difficult for me: chilling out.

If you’ve read this blog before (thanks for returning, by the way!), then you have probably gathered that I am the type of person who always likes a fully developed and refined plan, agenda, or schedule for every moment of the day. Sure, this helps keep me on track, but I’ve realized throughout this past year that it also leaves very little room for spontaneity and being present. I began noticing that the more I focused on “What’s next?” the less I was concerned with what was happening around me.

Additionally, I found that this mode of operating can actually lead to some unfortunate disappointment. If I’m so focused on exactly how my day will go- who I will see, what we will do, what we will eat, etc. then there isn’t any room for imagination. Everything is expected and planned out to a point where the reality is a bit of a let down. Sure, this isn’t always the case, but I have definitely been conscientious about not being so methodical about orchestrating each and every day according to what I think will yield the best possible outcome. Because the truth is, we need to leave room for the element of surprise to whisk us away from our routines and surprise us with something unexpected. I think some of the best times I’ve had have been when I’ve jumped into something without prior planning or organization. Relinquishing the reigns of control to the randomness of the universe is often times the most exciting mode of operation.

I have a point to all this rambling- I promise. You see, this trip I have been catching myself wondering what the entire scope of my day is going to look like. This is understandable, because on vacations you make plans for fun things to do, right? But I’ve been realizing that plans are what I make and obide by all the time, and what would happen if I just let the present dictate my decision making?

My family is fairly laid back in regards to daily routine- which is very helpful, as they help to balance out my own scheduling compulsions. When I’m with my family, I love that I’m able to take a step back from the pre-determined stuff and focus more on the little moment-to-moment joys of life. And you know what? There are a whole lot of them.

One of the reasons I’ve been thinking on this idea of presence versuses planning is because of the derailment/rearranging that’s needed to happen with my running. My knee is slowly but surely getting better, but I am most definitely outside of the training schedule/progress that I expected to be in. I ran 9 miles yesterday, very slowly and somewhat uncomfortably, and I’m coming to terms with the fact that despite all the effort I’ve put into this Eugene Marathon planning and dreaming, it might not pan out the way I had hoped. And I’m realizing…it’s ok.

I do still think I’ll be able to do the race…all 26.2…but it might not go exactly as I had planned. Truthfully, I have had my eye on getting a BQ this time around; my training runs were indicating that I had a decent shot at it, and I was just sort of feeling that it could definitely happen. I was prepared for it to not happen, but I was going to go for it.

At this point, it’s becoming less of an ideal. Sure, there’s still a shot, but this hiccup in my training has taken my expectations down a notch. I’m not necessarily relieved (because trust me a BQ is high on my must-get list!) however I don’t feel like I’ll be all that disappointed in myself if it doesn’t happen.

This injury/break/slowing down of my training has tweaked my perspective a bit, and I’m realizing that it’s okay for a perfectly formulated plan to not go, well, according to plan. I’ve been so focused and determined to refine my training in order to get that BQ that I lost perspective a bit on just enjoying my daily runs, no matter their pace or distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and believe me there’s nothing I’m gunning for more than knocking out a 20 miler, but for right now- for today- that’s not going to happen. I’m still in “recovery” mode and I’m more concerned right now with taking care of myself than crying over a race that hasn’t even happened yet.

Because the fact of the matter is- racing or not racing- running is still the best part of it all. I think as marathon, half-marathon, 10k, and 5k racers, we get so focused on our times and PRs that we forget that running isn’t meant to be about hardware and bibs- it’s about enjoying ourselves, pushing ourselves, and appreciating the potential of our bodies. I love racing, and I don’t plan on stopping, but I do appreciate this new-found realization that being a runner, to me, is more about the feeling I get when it’s 6:30 in the morning, the sun’s coming up, I’m listening to my breathing, and I feel totally and completely myself. That’s the reason I push myself to get up out of bed, and that’s the reason I will always come back to this sport.

Racing is a fantastic way to work toward a goal and maintain a running regimin, but ultimately- it’s really just another run. A plain, simple run- just with a lot more running buddies and water stops.

I suppose the point that I’m getting to is that for me, someone who is by nature uber competitive and incredibly planning-oriented, sometimes dropping the “racing factor” out of running helps bring the greatness of the sport back into perspective. It stops being this monotonous, check-list item that is only working toward a singular, far away goal, and it becomes once again a daily joy and privilege.

So maybe I will BQ Eugene, maybe I’ll just simply finish it. Maybe I’ll have to drop down to the half, or maybe I won’t even make it at all. I’m not really sure at this point in time, but for now I’m going to savor the mornings that I do get to lace up my Asics and run, no matter how slowly, until I’m fully better and ready to push myself.

I love having goals, and there are many futuristic running goals that I’m excited to take on, but I also love being able to take a step back from those goals and focus on the wonderful things that are already happening around me, running related and non running related.

________

Have a great week! And if you care to share…was there a point in time when you realized you were too consumed with one end point?

Habits I’m Never Going to Stop, and I’m Okay With It

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It feels like we are constantly bombarded with messages of self help. Everywhere I look recently, I see a new way to improve upon the way I live my life—how to work out better, how to eat better, how to cook better, how to be more sustainable, how to be more organized, how to save the whales, on and on and on. This stuff overwhelms me, and while I like to think I take it all with a grain of salt, every so often it gets in my head a little.

I start questioning my daily practices, and when I try to compare my lifestyle with all the mantras of “the right way to do such-and-such,” I get intimidated. Because frankly, it feels like I’m doing just about everything wrong.

Sure, I know that these are mostly just marketing schemes, and I can dismiss a great deal of them, however I’ve been realizing lately that there are certain “you should do”s that are constantly lingering in the back of my head. And once these ideas of “changes I should be making but haven’t yet” get planted in my brain, I have a really hard time letting myself off the hook.

I beat myself up over the fact that I “know” I should make a certain change, but never do. Some of these things are small, some are bigger; some are personal habits, and some are driven by the All Powerful Voice of Society. And the fact of the matter is—some of these are changes that actually should be made, I will fully admit that. That’s not what this post is about though.

No. This post is about accepting the fact that there are habits I will never change, and I’m going to forgive myself for it.

The thing is, a lot of the things I shame myself for are completely harmless and distinguishable only to me. They aren’t necessarily right or wrong, they are just small habits that I’ve decided to spend way too much energy stressing over. And why?

I’ve decided to let myself off the hook and focus my attention on more important matters—like the changes I can make that would actually make an impact. I’m finding it incredibly self-centered to spend so much time trying to tweak the way I live my life so it fits in this perfect little mold that our culture deems “worthy,” when in fact that mold is going to change again next week when there’s another way to organize our desks or eat our cereal or lift weights.

I’m thinking that maybe if I break up with these nagging notions of bettering myself, I’ll be able to exit the confines of my head a bit and focus on more important matters.

So, with that said, I give you Habits I’m Never Going to Stop, and I’m Okay With It.

–Consuming Dairy

Oh ice cream, I will never forsake you. Don't worry, this relationship is fo life.

I have heard every single argument about why humans shouldn’t eat dairy, and to be honest I agree with some of them. And way back when during injury days, when I needed something to focus on besides being depressed about not running, I did a 3-week cleanse where I gave up a whole lot of stuff—dairy included. Truthfully, I felt great. But is this for life? No.

I don’t have very much dairy—I drink soy milk in my coffee and use almond milk in my cereal—but the fact of the matter is I love yogurt, ice cream, and cheese, and I’m not going to give them up.

I am always hard on myself with this one, especially since there have been points in time when I’m surrounded by “OMG why would you poison your body with…cheese?!?!” people. No offense vegan friends, but I consider myself a healthy enough eater to keep dairy on my plate. So I will enjoy my fro-yo and my grilled cheese sandwiches, and I will not feel any guilt about it.

– Eating dinner in front of the TV

Alex, you're kind of an asshole, and you definitely fake bake, but I love the way you narrate trivia to me nightly.

I know every single study and their mom screams at everyone that “You eat 500% more when you eat in front of the TV.” Blah, blah, blah…I understand. However, the time I spend having dinner and watching Jeopardy with BF is one of my favorite parts of the day—and considering we don’t have a family of people to catch up with and together spend plenty of time conversing during other parts of the day, this one is gonna slide.

Sure, this might come to a stop someday, but for now I will shout out answers to Alex Trebek’s questions with a mouth full of food.

– Not wearing real clothes every day

Best friends who prefer shorts and fleeces together, stay together.

My definition of real clothes means something outside of yoga pants, half-zips, and running shoes. This is, as you can probably tell, the combination of attire I put together quite frequently, and I always get so down-and-out about it. But hey—guess what—I work from home, and this is probably the last point in time in my life that I will be able to work in whatever I feel like. I need to give this one up and accept that Starbucks doesn’t care if I’m not completely put together every day of the week.

–Taking samples out of the bulk bins at grocery stores.

Andddd there goes my self-control... and my law abiding actions.

You can judge me for this one, it’s okay. Except that we’ve all done it, and yes—as a 23-year-old adult I still do it. And I’m not going to stop. There’s something so fun about a mini snack while grocery shopping.

And on that note…

– Choosing grocery stores because I know there will be samples

Strawberry shortcake sample. Tell me how this could not make your day?

As I’ve mentioned probably many times before, I love samples, and I fully believe that all grocery stores would benefit from providing a few samples throughout the day. With that said, I always think I’m a mooch/fat kid for going to grocery stores because I know there will be a sample available. However, after discussing this with a few people, I’m learning I’m not the only one who does this—and in fact,everyoneloves samples.

The sample-motivated grocery shopping stays.

– Shopping at BP in Nordstrom

For those of you who don’t know, BP is the junior’s section of Nordy’s, and I feel embarrassed every time I go in there. I’m at that weird age where the junior’s clothes can look too young, the women’s clothes can look too old, and I’m armed with a credit card that is really only looking for things on sale.

Now, I will fully admit that my wardrobe can grow up a bit. However, I believe that I can still spend my shopping hours in the BP department, so long as I make non-high-school clothing decisions. I can afford BP, and I like to think I can make it look older than the girls who shop their with their mommies.

So until I can hire a personal shopper, I’ll stick with what I know—and oh, do I know BP.

– Not buying expensive jeans or shoes

See? I can even ride a bike in my non-designer-yet-still-acceptable jeans!

I’ve heard it over and over and over again. “Expensive jeans will change your life,” and “You’re ruining your feet with cheap shoes.” I know, I know…and I actually think I’m in the minority for not owning any Sevens or Pages or whatever those $200 denim wizards call them. I’m not buying jeans from Forever 21, but I don’t think I need to shell out a ton of money for a decent pair of pants. I’ve had the same two pairs of jeans for almost two years now, they are in great shape, and they were each under $100.

As for shoes, this does not apply to running shoes. Give me a comfy and dependable pair of sneaks and I’ll hand you all the money in my wallet. But as for heels, flats, boots, etc…no, sorry, I just can’t do it. I’m not a total cheapskake with shoes, but I cannot justify spending the amount of money some people do for shoes. I’ve tried—and all that happens is I think of all the races I could register for, the cookies I can buy, and the money I could put toward all my loans, and I just can’t do it.

And it’s okay. I’m forgiving myself for not shelling out for “the good stuff,” no matter what all you fashionistas say about it.

–Reading celebrity gossip magazines

Oh Britney, you've come so far. I will always "Help" you, never fear.

As an English major and lover of books, I always scoff at myself for reading and (gasp!) buying gossip magazines. I always think, “You should be reading a book, listening to a news podcast, writing in your journal” instead. This is chronic; whether I’m reading an US Weekly on a plane, or flipping through an In Touch at the gym, I am so incredibly self-aware and embarrassed.

But guess what? I love these magazines, no matter how shameful I feel. And when I go to the airport, I look forward to a trip into Hudson News and selecting the most enticing publication featuring rich content such as Kim Kardashian’s Workout Secrets, The Truth Behind Justin’s Proposal to Jessica, and The Oscar’s Best Dressed. I love that shit, and I’m not going to stop.

I love nonfiction, fiction, biographies, plays, and the gossip of Hollywood’s rich and famous. It’s who I am, and I’m going to hold my head high.
_______________

After beginning to compile this list, I was frightened at just how many things there are in my life that I stress over. I’m realizing more and more just how much our marketing culture capitalizes on the fact that humans are so frickin’ self-serving, and as soon as we hear a message directed toward “us” we immediately become consumed with egotistical thoughts.

I know it’s human nature, and we’re all 100% guilty of it, but I think if we start to question the “what to do” and “what not to dos” a bit more, and forgive ourselves for the small nuances that don’t really alter our character, we can focus our energy more outward.

It’s a lot easier to appreciate the people, places, and general joie de vie around us when we’re less stressed about the things we so often get hung up on. Forgive yourself for the habits you have that you obsess over. Chances are, they add to the things that make you you.

 

What is a habit you aren’t going to change and be okay with? What are you going to forgive yourself for?

 

Then and Now

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I’ve been thinking a lot recently about where I was last year around this time.

As I’ve mentioned before, last spring I spent three months completely unable to run. I had a torn hip flexor, and I could barely walk without being in pain—and running was not only out of the question, it was physically impossible.

I don’t want to continue bringing the subject up, but it’s feeling particularly relevant right now—especially because it was exactly one year ago that everything came crashing down for me, or so I thought.

One year ago, I was devastated, panicked, and felt completely and totally lost. I had lost myself in running, and when it was taken away I didn’t know in what direction to turn. I was also, frankly, pissed at running. I had given it everything I had, and it turned around and kicked my feet out from under me.

Again, or so I thought.

Looking back, I can really tell how my mentality in regards to running and being “a runner” has changed. As I sit out these next few days, nursing a mystery knee pain, I know I’ll be thinking a lot back to where I was last year, and how it’s affected where I am now.

So while I’m definitely not thrilled about this (hopefully) small set back, it is encouraging to think back on where I was a year ago, and where I am now. And yes, I do think it’s ironic that “injury” would strike at the exact same time, to the week, both last year and this year—but hey, when the universe offers up some time for reflection, why not take a gander eh?

Last year, before I even got hurt, I honestly wasn’t running anymore because I loved it. I had become so obsessive about it, and addicted to it, that I wasn’t doing it because I wanted to—but because I needed to. I had whittled my interests down so much that the only way I could achieve a momentary sense of accomplishment was by running, far, every day.

And, as is the nature of the running beast, it fought back. It saw my recklessness and my lack of respect for it, and it broke me down. It sidelined me and forced me to reevaluate my priorities and my reasons for running.

Now, looking back, I can honestly say that despite all my frustration and sadness, I am thankful for this eye-opening experience of being completely unable to run. It helped me to understand that our bodies aren’t indestructible, and in order to do the things we love we need to give ourselves TLC, and that means things like resting, stretching, cross-training, and maintaining balance. These were all things that I never did; I thought running as far as I could as often as I could was the means to being the best, the most disciplined.

Since then, I’ve found that it’s quite the opposite.

Being a good athlete is not all about having physical and mental fortitude, it’s about having humility and understanding of how to take care of ourselves. Respecting our bodies includes knowing when to back off, and that’s something I hadn’t figured out back then. I’ll admit, it’s still hard for me to not want to go hard most every day—but I feel so much more complete and satisfied with my ability to embrace balance.

And all the while, amidst learning how to take better care of myself, I reestablished my love for running. My respect for the sport has reached a whole new level, and at the same time my love for it and my confidence in my own abilities has increased as well.

Which brings me to today, one year after having a complete mental breakdown over being hurt.

Instead of fighting through the pain, and ignoring this pang in my knee, I am deciding to relax this week and wait until Friday to run. Even if running isn’t the culprit for this annoying knee ache, I want to make sure that it doesn’t irritate it any more. I’m thankful that I’m far enough along in my training that a few days off really isn’t going to hinder my progression, and I’m hopeful that the whole “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” adage is true in this case.

And truthfully, with all this training that’s been happening, I think a few days off could really help reinforce my dedication to my runs and the enjoyment I get out of them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, friends.

So, one year ago, I was beaten both mentally and physically. As cheesy/strange as it might sound, running had broken my heart, and it took a good long time to realize that it was actually the kind of tough love I really needed.

One year later, I’m listening to my body, I’m being cautious, and I’m not letting my animalistic must-run-now instincts keep me from being smart.

In retrospect, I’m grateful that being sidelined forced me to reconstruct my relationship with running, and I’m happy to have been given the opportunity to put those lessons into practice.

Sure, part of me is all, “You hear that universe? I’m seeing the error in my ways and acting upon it…so can my knee feel better now?” But, I know that time is what’s necessary to ensure proper TLC sets in, as well as sleeping in and loading up on ibuprofen.

 

What are some running lessons you’ve learned? When do you know it’s time to back off?

Injury Psychosis, or “My Irrational 10 PM Panic Attack”

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Last night around the time I was supposed to be basking in a post-long-run comatose, I was actually having a panic attack. It wasn’t loud, aggressive, or filled with tears (can you guess how these normally go for me?) but it definitely happened, and it kept my brain a-flutter for far too long.

To summarize, in the space of about 3 iPhone internet searches, I self-diagnosed myself with a stress fracture and resolved myself to a fate of another spring without running and no more Eugene marathon.

Let’s back up a bit though.

Yesterday, I ran 18.5 miles for my long run—a bit longer than I intended on, however I felt great the whole time. Despite a brutal head wind that never seemed to go in the right direction, conditions were ideal for this run, and I was thrilled to be out in short sleeves again. There was really only one thing irking me, and right from the get-go it didn’t really make sense: a shin splint.

I’ve had shin splints before, however that was back when I was running track, and I don’t think I’ve actually had one from running since then. Therefore, I was really confused how after all the mileage I’ve built up and training I’ve done, one persnickety little shin splint would choose to show up out of the blue. It didn’t get worse or anything throughout the run, it just kind of hung out not wanting to go away. After I was done, I noticed that flexing my foot to push the pedals in my car was irritating it—and this put me on edge a bit.

I’m very paranoid about any kind of injury (as most runners are) but I think that I’m particularly wary when it comes to any ache or pain in my body. I go right into prevention/recovery mode whenever I feel something’s off—ice, pain killers, stretching, etc. Last night, the pain still hadn’t subsided, and although I was completely fine in terms of weight-bearing and walking, I still had a pang whenever I would flex my foot.

So, after BF had fallen asleep (yesterday he ran the furthest he’s ever run before—14 miles!), I decided to do what I believe is one of the biggest mistakes runners can do: I went online and tried to figure out what was wrong. Now you see, shin splints and stress fractures are quite interrelated in terms of their similar symptoms, their location, and their frequency in runners. Therefore, when you start Googling anything related to shins and running and pain, you get a very wide range of possibilities for the culprit. This would be the part of the story where I go straight to the worst case scenario, deciding not only that I have a stress fracture but that I can no longer run the Eugene Marathon and must resound myself to swimming and spinning for 6-8 weeks. Not only that, but I actually thought about how sad I would be to read other runner’s blogs and how I would need to try to stay positive in my own blogging. Oh, I also thought, “Maybe I’ll still be able to do the half? But then I’d be so depressed seeing people do the full…and why would my family come if I was only doing the half?”

Okay.

Yes, all those thoughts did go through my head.

No, I don’t have anything near a stress fracture.

Once I woke up this morning and regained a better grip on reality, I realized two things: It’s actually not running or impact that irritates this feeling in my shin (it’s flexing my foot), and I’ve had this pain before—and it definitely wasn’t a stress fracture then either.

After a little more logical and thorough investigation with my sports doctor known as Dr. Google, PhD., I got a little closer to what I think is going on.

Ready for some fancy name-calling? Tibialis Anterior Tendonitis. AKA: Really bad shin splints.

In a nutshell, one of the muscles on the front of my leg has some tendonitis, and it hurts to bend my foot.

So yes, it’s too bad and I’ll be taking all the proper precautions in the mean time, but no…it’s not the completely debilitating injury that my pre-bedtime brain decided it was.

Now, I know many runners are super hyper-aware about getting hurt, and understandably so. However, I do think there was a particular reason I so quickly and dramatically decided that this pain meant the worse case injury. You see, it was almost exactly one year ago to the weekend that I got hurt last year. I actually think it may have been the exact same weekend; I had run my half marathon PR, and like a really super smart person decided to run 9 miles the day after. Thus began the week-long downward spiral of my hip flexor, which ultimately would end up torn and disabling me from being able to walk, let alone run. I couldn’t even run 10 feet for a solid 2 months without my hip seizing in pain, and it would be 3 months before I could run more than a mile.

Those were fun times. No, actually they sucked. However, despite it all I did learn a lot about myself as a runner, and more importantly about my limits.

So, what does all this have to do with my panic attack about a stress fracture?

Well, I can’t be entirely certain, but I do think a part of my brain—that mysterious subconscious part that enjoys playing tricks on you—is in full-force protection mode right now in regards to injuries. Because last year my spring was so wholly down-trodden due to my limping gimp status, I think part of me is really bugged-out scared about the possibility of something like that happening again. And, sure, it’s for good reason—no one wants to get hurt—but for me that period of time is not entirely pleasant to think back to. I have such high hopes for this spring, for this upcoming marathon, and for the plans I have for the summer, and it cripples me to think of them going wrong.

As a runner, I do need to realize that injuries do happen—it’s all in the nature of the sport. I have internalized this, and I feel better prepared for if and when something happens again, but this little bout of panic I had last night made me realize that maybe I’m more afraid of it than I consciously think I am. I know I got through it last time, I know I could get through it again, but I also remember the feeling of disappointment that lasted for months. And that feeling is what I’m most afraid of. Disappointment in myself for not training smarter, disappointment in not being able to cross another marathon finish line, and overall disappointment in missing the glory of a good run.

So I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I’m feeling a bit vulnerable right now, and I know it’s because at this point—I do have a lot to lose.

And in reality, that’s a really good thing.

Sure it’s scary to think that one little slip up could take everything away, but I’m a big believer in the idea that it’s when you’re happiest that you tend to feel the most vulnerable. When you’ve built up a great deal of strength(both literally and figuratively) in your life, you cannot help but feel exposed and be fearful that all your hard work will come crashing down.

It is better to feel like you have something to lose rather than nothing to lose, though. When you have something to lose, in this case—training and mileage build up—it’s because you’ve put dedication into something; you’ve taken time and care into making something happen. The thought of those hours and grueling efforts going to waste is horrifying, but I think we/I should remember that they actually will never go to waste. Sure, if I were to get hurt, there would definitely be a loss in morale and my marathon registration fee, but it wouldn’t take away from the hours I’ve spent on the pavement, loving the feeling of running, and soaking in the greatness that is a runner’s high.

I’m going to try and remember this, as I nurse this pesky shin splint, but also as I think about the future of my running career. This momentary lapse in my better thinking made me realize that part of being a good runner is internalizing the fact that injuries happen, and I need to trust myself a little more. I’ve done everything I can to stay healthy, and if my body doesn’t choose to cooperate—well then, there really isn’t anything I can do about it.

Of course, as with most tough things, this mentality is easier said than done, but I am going to try and focus on the reality of being a runner instead of just the ideals of it.

Obviously running a PR in every race and having a great run every day would be awesome, but it’s not the nature of the beast. Sometimes, we need a little dose of fear to help us realize that running isn’t a submissive mistress. She keeps you on your toes, and you need to listen to her demands in order to maintain a steady relationship.

 

Icing, ibuprofen-ing, massaging, and resting until this bugger subsides. I’m considering waiting until later in the week to run again, but we’ll see how things go. Thanks for reading my attempts at narrating the complexities of my brain. Sometimes I feel like it’s trying to be an announcer for a 20-person trapeze show…not a cool task.

Questions: Tell me something fun about your weekend! Or, if you’re feeling deep, tell me about your thoughts on the psyche of injuries.

 

Good Intentions

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There are so many things that we—very consciously—intend to do. The saying “good intentions” is true for many reasons, namely because that’s typically what our intentions are aiming toward; being good, doing good, and generally filling our lives with good-ness.

Unfortunately, there’s something that happens all too often with our good intentions.

They are (to bring in another saying) much easier said than done.

Now, if you are someone who 100% takes on their endeavors as soon as you make them, then I commend you, and you are not part of this discussion.

I, however, am the queen of setting forth fantastic intentions for myself and my life, basking in the idea of them, and eventually forgetting about them only to remake the exact same intentions about 3 months later.

Confused? Here’s the perfect example: I always want to be the person who’s on time to everything. Even better, I want to be the person who’s 5 minutes early. I have this vision of allowing cushion time no matter where I’m going or who I’m meeting and never worrying about being late to anything, ever.

You can probably guess why I have this intention… I am religiously 5 minutes late. Always.

I blame this on two things: The fact that I try to cram as much as possible into unrealistic time frames, and my genes. Sorry mom, but I’m using you as a scapegoat here.

Anyways, I always decide—normally after almost getting in actual trouble for being late—that enough is enough and I’m going to turn into Princess Punctual.

So why is it, no matter how often I try, these very do-able intentions simply fall to the wayside? Is it laziness? Habit? A subconscious fear of change? I think it’s probably a combination of these things—but I find it so interesting that, as far as I’m concerned, almost everyone has things in their lives they’d love to change but simply don’t. I think many would claim that they “can’t,” but  we all know that’s not true. We can do anything, but it’s a lot easier to imagine the way we’d like to be than actually taking the steps to get there.

Now, I might have a bad habit of tardiness and leaving too many half-full water cups around the house, however I do like to think I have a good work ethic. I couldn’t be a runner if I didn’t have willpower, and I know I’m capable of some pretty satisfying outcomes when I actually commit to something. I was thinking about this on my 10-mile run yesterday: How is it possible that running 10 miles at 6:00 am became normal and routine when keeping my car clean has been on my to-do list for months?

Obviously, we pick and choose where our priorities lie, and frankly I’d prefer to log miles than to make sure my car floor carpets are vacuumed. However, I am realizing I need to strike a better balance. Obviously, running is one of my number one commitments, but I think that my constant focus on fuel, sleep, strength, speed, etc. could be taking away from all the other good intentions I revisit over and over again.

And the truth is, good intentions aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. Making my bed every day, replying to emails faster, reading more books instead of watching tv, and trying recipes other than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches aren’t going to take away from running whatsoever. Sure, if I had the intention to become an Olympic shot-putter, that might put a damper on my marathoning career, however I’m realizing that the nature of intentions is that they’re veryaccessible.

Intentions aren’t the same as goals: Goals we know will take time and work, therefore we instinctively know that we cannot expect immediate results. We know, however, how easy fulfilling our good intentions are, and that’s why we get a temporary high thinking about how much more tidy and joyful our lives will be once we practice them.

But, this is where we get caught. I think that it’s the temporary high that blinds us to the fact that in order to change, we actually need to be proactive. We have to change habits that have led us astray from our good intentions, and—once again—it’s much easier to say we’ll change than actually do the changing.

My mom, despite her questionable punctuality, is fantastically and annoyingly right about just about everything. She passed on this quote to me a while back, which I think speaks exactly to the issue of good intentions:

“It’s a lot easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than to think your way into a new way of acting.”

Good one, huh? It kind blows your mind a bit.

The fact is, it’s easy to think. We let our imagines run wild with all the endless ways we can make our lives better. And sometimes, we convince ourselves that thinking about it is improvement enough.

“I want to do more charity work, therefore I’m a good person.”

“I thought about going to the gym, so that counts for something.”

“Oh I’m going to read that book I’ve had by my bed for months on vacation on the beach, you know, because I want to save it.”

In NO way am I excusing myself from these brain tricks. I am guilty of having them all the time. However, I am starting to realize that action is a necessary counterpart for any thoughts we might have. Our ideas might be fantastic, life-changing, or all-around groundbreaking, but the fact is that they are quite literally nothing without action.

It’s harsh, but it’s true. So that is why I’m setting a new intention for myself; an intention to change the way I typically approach all my “good intentions.” I’d like to tackle my daily life ambitions with the same mindset as I do my running: by just doing them.

Despite it’s simplicity, Nike had it 100% right when it came up with its motto. Thinking about doing something only delays the actual action from happening, so instead of wasting our lives thinking, pondering, and imagining—why don’t we just do it?

Most of the time, I don’t even question if I’m going to run or not: I know the rewards of doing it are far better than the extra 1.5 hours of sleep I’ll get, and I know that if I don’t get out there I’ll spend my whole day questioning why I didn’t just do it.

So, why not infiltrate this mentality into my everyday life? Why not stop the constant recreation of the exact same goals over and over again, and just make them my routine? I know a clean house makes me happy, I know that arriving early helps me focus, and I know that drinking enough water will always make me feel better. These things are accessible, and easily integrate-able into my life. And in fact—they are easier than running, and easier than a lot of the things I do fill my life with.

So there you have it. An intention to do away with intentions and start with some action. Again, I know this is so much easier said than done—old habits die hard, etc. etc. BUT the only way to defeat the cycle of having unfulfilled good intentions is to just start doing them.

I want to act my way into a new way of thinking.

WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE BEST WAY TO HOLD YOURSELF ACCOUNTABLE WHEN MAKING A CHANGE?

WHAT GOOD INTENTIONS DO YOU FIND YOURSELF COMING BACK TO?