Road to the TCS NYC Marathon: 5. Letting go of the Cram

I am a crammer. Is that even a word? I look at the time I have ahead and attempt to schedule in absolutely every single class, meeting, training session, and activity that I can within that allotted time. And the end result? Sleeping through an entire beautiful afternoon because I cannot seem to move my legs and all I really want to do is scroll social media. In 94 days I need to be ready to run 26.2 miles and in less than three weeks I am back into my full schedule. So I train and train and then crash. But maybe there is a case for this approach? Maybe if I take 3 fitness classes a day and run then when I head back into my normal routine things will feel easy? Or maybe I will crash and burn. There is one way to find out! Even though my unbalanced approach might not be the best way to go it is working for the moment. My running partner Luna is the subject of the picture below. This is her after a run!

Road to the TCS NYC Marathon: 4. Running with Luna

It is this face that gets me out the door each and every day. It is this face that keeps me on pace (excepting squirrel fartleks and olfactory explorations). 

For most of my running career I have been a solo runner, maintaining a run streak for the past 2641 days by waking before the sun and heading out the door, flashlight in hand. But on May 31, 2000 I brought home this 8 year old husky shepherd mix from our local shelter. She has been my running partner pretty much every day since (minus the few weeks after she leaped over the open tool box slicing a tendon). Both of her dominant breeds (husky and shepherd) are on Runner's World's list of best running dogs and rightly so. Both breeds are active working dogs. We jumped right in the day after I brought her home (she did not need much in the way of training) and have been partners ever since. There was a near miss the other day when we came upon a porcupine neighbor, but she has made training that much more enjoyable, if not interesting. Do you run with your dog? Post a picture below!

Road to the TCS NYC Marathon: 3. Training in the Moment

It is summer and I am a teacher. Which means that I do not have income coming in, but I do have hours of free time to focus on my training. Less than one month from now I will return to my hectic schedule: waking at 4am to attempt a morning run, a full day of teaching followed by coaching, and concluding with an evening of planning and prepping for the next day of classes. Which leaves me very little time for marathon training. And even though I still have almost a full month of smart (stretching, biking, icing, massage, and yoga) training, my mind is already thinking ahead to the days when I might not have the time to complete those activities that keep me happy and injury free. For example, I have been sleeping 8 full hours per night. I have been warming up for my runs and stretching afterwards. I have been cross training and foam rolling. In other words, I have been training the smart way. And it feels good. Injury pain has subsided a bit and I have energy throughout the day. The question is: How does one take care of one's body and work more than full time while training for 26.2? In the absence of the answer to that question, I also need to know how I stay in today, enjoying every minute of self care and recovery that the summer months afford? 

The Berkely Institute of Well-Being has a great blog post about staying in the now which includes 14 tips to stay present. The article by Tchiki Davis can be found here. Davis explores ways to practice mindfulness, and includes videos and exercises to help us to stave off anxiety and return to the present. One of her tips is to practice gratitude. This simple act of fosusing on what one is grateful for returns us to the present moment. Today I am grateful for this working computer, the ability to write and share my journey with you, this porch on which I sit, and the glorious summer day I have in which to write (and train). While practicing gratitude for the present moment this summer day, I can also look at how I can lessen my work load a bit, so that I can continue the healthy habits I have cemented during my vacation. Can I assign fewer gradeable assignments for the first few months of the school year or do I really need to be coaching in the Fall? What might my life look like if I attempted balance? To be continued! 
 

Road to the TCS NYC Marathon: 2. Taking it Easy and the Dreaded Ice bath

I have the coach. I have the PT. I have three new pair of colorful Hoka One One Rincon lined up and set to go. I have a hotel room booked and will arrange a sick day. Now the training begins. The marathon is not just a race; it is a way of life for four months. I have not run 26.2 miles since November 2019, and I believe my longest long run has hovered around 15 miles (Vegan Power 25k Virtual). In a previous post I wrote about asking for help, a huge step for me as I never want to admit that I even need help. Self -sufficiency has been a point of pride for many years. After all, I am the woman who went years without calling in sick, going to the dentist, and have self diagnosed more running injuries than I would like to admit. Yet here I am with the coach, and the PT. Asking for help. 

The goal this year is to run relatively pain free. Yes it will hurt, it is a 26 mile race, but I would like it to hurt the way it is supposed to (tired and sore muscles) and not because of my litany of running- related overuse injuries that have been following me for the past ten years. So I am cross training, strength training, eating strictly vegan food, sleeping, and the hardest of all, icing. And you know what? The injuries are subsiding because I am...wait for it...gasp...taking it easy. My coach recommended that I run not for distance but for time on feet, adding 15 minutes per week to my long run and possibly topping off at 15 miles. This will be marathon # 11 for me and my body knows what to do. Well, my tendons are a bit behind, but my muscles can run the distance. So now it is about taking it easy, listening to my body, getting rest and fueling my body with nutrients. 

In the next few weeks I am hoping to get my GoPro up and running, to test it out so that on that morning this November when I line up at the Verranzzano - Narrows Bridge, I can record the experience and post it here. For now though I will put my feet in a bath of ice, ignore the discomfort, and know that my body will thank me for it.
 

Road to the TCS NYC Marathon: 1. Asking for Help

I have done it before and I will do it again. The New York City Marathon. It was not my first marathon, that was Hartford in 2009, but in February 2017 I decided on a whim to put my name into the lottery for an entry. Had I run longer than 13.1 miles since 2009? Hell no! What was I thinking? I was thinking that there was no way that I would be one of the 11% whose name would be drawn for the run through the five boroughs in New York City. Flash forward to November of that year and I was slogging through the rain after successfully making it to the starting line on Staten Island. Yes I finished and might not have been able to walk for a few days, but the following February I put my name in again. 2018. Yes. 2019. Team TCS Teacher contest winner. 2020. Covid. 2021. Deferral from 2020. 

It is time to start training. I am beginning to build a base of fitness despite a history of running related injuries from a calf strain to Achilles and Posterior tibial tendonosis, to the newest addition to the familiy: calcaneal bursitis on both heels. I am keeping a physical therapis in business and have a share of the compression sock market. But there is a difference this year. Oh, I know I can do it, but this year I am asking for help. I have a running coach making me a training plan. I have a physical therapist making sure I stay straight to stave off injuries, and I am working with a strength and conditioning coach. I have my nutrition under control because of work with a plant based nutritionist, and I am taking time to, gasp, rest. I would love to continue to writing about this journey within the confines of this blog, to share images and maybe even video if I take the plunge and purchase that GoPro in my Amazon shopping cart. I would like to be held accountable for taking care of my body so that this year maybe I can run this amazing race with minimum pain. here we go.

Rough Road Ahead

I stumbled upon this sign on my run the other morning, and I started thinking about how nice it would be if life came with warning signs. "Warning: Bitter Divorce Ahead," "Death of Beloved Pet Soon," "Job Loss Around Corner." Would I live my life any differently if I knew when the rough patches were coming? In 2008 when I quit my job to go back to school and work toward my Bachelor's degree, I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I could never have foreseen the years of looking for a job after college, or the second degree I needed to obtain to be gainfully employed in my chosen field. The journey was harder than I thought: four years of financial hardship and juggling school, commuting and raising my son, followed by four years of looking for a full-time permanent position in my chosen field. Maybe if I knew just how difficult before embarking, I would have never taken the leap into the unknown. That leap positively changed my life, however. I now have a career, a brand new job working with supportive people and two degrees. My college experience provided me with a challenge that my intellect craved, introduced me to areas of study I would have never known existed, and forced me to grow up. The job search forced me to completely turn  my life over to God, and the results were beyond my wildest dreams. I went from cleaning up after people and animals to teaching The Canterbury Tales. Would I have braved the rough roads if I knew that they weren't merely bumpy, but filled with tire-bursting craters? Probably not, fear of the unknown, and the comfort of the status quo would have kept me in place.  When do I let go of my brilliant plans and allow life to be a surprise? 

I passed the sign, continued down the road; the road that was freshly paved. It was not, like the sign had warned, rough. The mist lifted as I rounded the bend, revealing freshly baled hale and red-winged blackbirds. The scent of pine, grass and summer wildflowers hung in the air. And I was running. And it was good.

Creating a Spiritual Practice

Creating a spiritual practice is much like painting a masterpiece. You sit down at the canvas and just pick up

the brush. Where do you begin? First some colors must be gathered, mixed, prepared...then maybe just maybe you feel as if you should start painting with cerulean blue. Just take a dab of paint at first, try not to go too heavy handed in the beginning. Now remember, this will not be done overnight. I have been creating a spiritual practice for years now. Layers of paint have added, colors mixed, a little turpentine comes in handy when something didn't work.

I am writing this as I am reentering society, "reality" as some might call it, after a week on Cape Cod. I spent this week running, attending spiritual group meetings, walking my dogs, daily yoga classes, eating healthy vegan food, and relaxing on the beach. Most of the week was spent in silence, on my own. It was a beautiful week, and by the end, I began to feel like a person again. It was a week I would have never been able to take had I been hired at my "dream job." It felt as if my spiritual practice was supercharged. I already have a daily practice: prayer in the morning, running meditation, and spiritual meetings with others. I also write a daily gratitude list and eat vegan food (a practice of non violence.) But the week on my own, near the ocean and an abundance of yoga classes and running trails, allowed me to, as Emeril would say, kick it up a notch. And today, as I have no full time employment as of yet, I can continue this daily practice. But what happens when I find employment? The hour of yoga and two hours of running, followed by prayer and meditation and an evening walk with the dogs, might not fit so well when working 8 hours and commuting. Plus, I am adding too much to my daily practice at one time. I have noticed, that a habit sticks when I add one at a time, and a doable goal. If I were to say, plan on adding a full yoga practice while increasing mileage and meditation time while simultaneously juggling a life, a relationship, a grown child, animals, a household and family and friends, I might internally combust. Or the new routine would just not stick.

What color can I add to my canvas today? Might it be a gentle stretch in the morning while I am brushing my teeth, and maybe a few minutes of alternate nostril breathing to calm my mind with the goal of continuing to take at least one yoga class per week?  I would love to end each day, feeling just like I did while on my retreat. But life is what happens when we are making plans. And a full immersion in a complicated spiritual practice might not pay the bills or make my partner happy. Just for today I will add a few small pieces from my retreat into my daily practice, see how the color looks on my already paint splattered canvas. I can always add more paint later. And it only takes a small shift to make a change.

Running Downhill

Uphill takes forever and no matter which direction I run, there always seems to be more up hills than down. Why? I guess because we take longer to run uphill. Downhill I speed up and it is over quickly. Same with life, the harder hills seem to take forever, but once you crest you can cruise down. It all comes down to this: is it worth the climb? If you ski, you might say yes. When I am running full speed down a hill, the wind in my hair and a smile on my face, I say hell yes. There are always going to be climbs, times throughout the journey where it is just so hard, when you are breathless and ready to collapse. For me, my mind wants to give up right before the crest, but I know if I just hang on, the view will present itself. I reach the top, legs sore, lungs burning, and slow for the descent, the delicious, glorious descent. The descent is why we run, that feeling of being alive, the absolute joy of losing control. It is over soon, and life returns back to normal, maybe a few gentle bumps, some flat open spaces, and a few twists and turns. What I need to remember, while in the midst of a life climb, is that the crest will appear, and the freedom of the downhill only comes after I climb. I worked hard to earn my college degrees, and the feeling of freedom, of joy and accomplishment after receiving that diploma...that is why I brave the hills. Today, jobless, I slowly make my way up another hill. I send out resumes, I search online databases, and I ask for help. I climb. I don't know when the crest will come, but for this one moment, right here and now, I believe I will make it up that hill, maybe with sore legs, but the downhill will be so much fun.

Am I a Republicanophobe?

I am scared to write this post. First I am afraid to admit that I am prejudiced. But more importantly I am afraid that you, the reader, might be a Republican, and Republicans scare me. Why? Because, like other people who are prejudiced, I have an all or nothing mentality. Now is when you might get angry with me. But please don't yell, I am attempting to come to the root of my prejudice and abolish it. This morning, on Facebook, someone told me not to go all "right-wing" on him. It was, to me, a staunch tree-hugging, animal rights supporting, pro-choice, educated woman, an insult.

When I picture a Republican, I picture a gun-toting, anti-woman, racist,  homophobe. And people with guns scare me, and sexist, racist homophobes scare me. Therefore, Republicans scare me. And it all really just comes down to fear, fear of the unknown. I have tried to understand Republican economic theory, but I am a child of the 70's and I watched as the trickle down never trickle down. I read about huge corporations paying nothing in taxes and hiding their billions in profits in off-shore accounts. I watch as so-called Christians ignore the poverty stricken in this country, "they should work harder, they are moochers." When I picture a Republican I picture a person, devoid of compassion for those less fortunate. I watch as Republicans vote against the Equal Pay Act, as they cut assistance for needy children, and as they demonize women and teachers. This is what I see, hence my all or nothing mentality. I am no better than a racist, I let fear of the "other" guide my opinions. It comes down to the fear of the unknown. As a woman living in a sheltered community, I do not come in contact with many Republicans.

How can I abolish this extreme prejudice? It all comes down to the "us against them" mentality. If I focus on the differences, how can I begin to find compassion for the other, that person who holds different beliefs than I? After all, the world would be a boring place if we all believed the same things. The first step then, is to find common ground. So, my dear Republican reader, kindly help me out, help me to find common ground. I am a runner, I know, left turn, bear with me. As I runner, I race. When I go to races I run with thousands of other runners. We connect through our mutual similarities. I have no clue what political party my fellow racers belong to, we come for the common joy of running. When I pass a runner on the road, I am kind, I connect, I wave, I move over or slow down, after all it is a fellow runner. Turn right again, what commonalities can I find with my fellow Republicans? If I can find this, I might be able to soften around my opinions, my fears and my Republicanophobia.

From: http://www.informationisbeautiful.net/visualizations/left-vs-right-world/

Running for Meg

I ran five miles today, nothing out of the ordinary. But today I ran that five miles for Meg, a woman who was struck by a drunk driver on her morning run this past Monday. We runners have all had close calls, we have all jumped out of the way just in time to avoid the distracted driver barreling toward us. But this week we lost one of our own. I do not know Meg, but I know a little about her.

I am her: I am a mother, a daughter, a friend, and a runner. I know what it feels like at the end of a run, when all of my limbs are tingling. I know what it feels like to reach a goal, to shave a few minutes off a race time, or to meet a new mileage goal. I know what it feels like to have something to work toward. I know what it is like to stand at the start line with thousands of others, with one purpose, to run. I know what it is like to run through the finish, with bystanders and faster runners cheering me on. Today, I, along with a whole lot of other people ran for a woman we don't know, and will never meet. We ran because that is what we do when we are sad, when we are anxious or when we need to work through a problem. Runners run. We ran after the tragedy at the Boston Marathon. And we will run the next time we lose someone.

Today I also ran for those who have never experienced the silence of a country road after snow. I ran for those who don't pay attention, who have never noticed the bluebirds sitting atop swaying stalks of milkweed, or great blue heron waiting patiently for a fish. I ran for those who have never stretched out sore muscles, who have never felt truly alive as their bodies moved in time with breath down a back road. I ran for those who don't understand. 

Today I attempted to find compassion for those who value their destination or their text messages over my life. I tried to forgive those who find it amusing to scare me by swerving into my path or those who just don't care. I thought of Meg, and of Jim, and of all the others who have been killed or injured doing what they love to do, run. Today I am grateful, I am grateful to have been given the gift of this day, to run, without my headphones on the back roads of Berkshire County, with snow silently falling. I ran past rabbit tracks and a family of deer. I ran because that is what I do. My thoughts go out to family and friends of Meg today and it is an honor to be part of an amazing, supportive community.

Megsmiles Website

And they appeared, as if by magic

Autumn has slipped in, the leaves are already changing here in the Berkshires. This morning I took to the Appalachian Trail for the first time in a few weeks, and it was like slipping into a different world. Birch leaves covered the trail, roots seemed to have sprung (my feet had forgotten where they were.) It even sounded different, songbirds no longer called, here and there a word or two; instead the air was filled with the rustling of falling leaves. Light filtered through already bare patches where evergreens were absent. The woods smelled like wet dog in certain places, others, damp moss. Fungi grew, popping up overnight it seemed, bright red, brilliant white, round and bumpy, the mushrooms hinting at a world invisible to the eye that waits to explode when we aren't looking. I stopped at the stream to pray, the water rushing from our overabundance of precipitation these last few weeks. Cattails had started to brown. As I stood on the rock that crosses the brook I started to see spider webs appear, as if by magic. They hung from birch branches and spanned the distance between cattails and other tall grasses. The longer I stood, the more came into view. I have been forced to slow down recently, this morning was no exception. No calls to work were received, so I have a day, a brilliant autumn day to run and read and try to listen for answers. What is the next step? The spider weaves a web and waits. Has my web been woven? What is the proper mixture of work and meditation? I know that when I force situations to occur, the end result is less than desirable (I still regret the grammatically flawed resumes sent by the dozens.) Nature has her season of work and her season of rest. Now she is cleaning up, purging and preparing for a little quiet before the rebirth. Today the leaves fall, without any real effort, they are no longer needed to make sugar for food. The songbirds do not need to attract a mate. Today the webs come into focus, as long as I am quiet and pay attention. Is it my season to slow down, sit back and allow, or do I need to go out and grab for what I need, gathering nuts for a long winter? I am not sure. But I do know that if I take care of what needs to be done today, exercise, prayer, meditation, writing and a little grocery shopping, the next steps will appear, as the webs did, as the sunlight hit the morning dew. 

Taking Flight

This morning I set out for a run, choosing the trail behind my apartment which weaves through rolling fields, past a pond, over a brook and by some pine woods. I hadn't been running in a few days and my lungs felt it,  and my legs were a little shaky, but I ventured on, determined to add five miles to my running tally. As I passed the pond a Great Blue Heron took flight, he was invisible to my eyes until he made his move. It jarred me from my meditation. Herons transition between water, land and air, and although it appears that their bodies may be heavy as they take off, once they are airborne, their flight is smooth. It occurred to me that over the last few months I have been considering myself to be in a transition period, graduating from college, and waiting for the next adventure to begin, that new job or writing project. I have been focusing on getting someplace, finding that source of income, making a contribution to society. When that didn't happen this summer, my first instinct was to run away, to start over in a new place, because maybe just maybe I would actually get somewhere then. But today as my lungs reminded me to stay present and the heron reminded me to pay attention, I realized that I haven't been in a transitional limbo. This is a necessary part of life. Just as winter isn't the transitional period between autumn and spring, the last few months haven't been the transition between school and employment. Winter is essential. Without it there would be no opportunity for new life to sprout. Life is cyclical, each day is necessary, not just another 24 hours to get through in order to get to the good stuff. As westerners I think we value the active life, the workaholism, the doing doing doing. Meditation and quiet seem unnecessary in the scheme of life, because nothing gets done. But watch a heron as it stands completely still in the water. In that stillness is action, without it the fish would never be spied. When the time comes I will be called to action just as the heron will move to spear its prey, but just for today this stillness, this so called "transition" period is exactly what I need to be experiencing. When I ran this morning, what mattered wasn't my starting point (my house,) or my ending point (my house,) but the grass, the mud, the cattails and heron between the two points. That is the journey, that is the point.

Running

I posted a one liner on Facebook a few months ago, "May you always run downhill." This revelation had come after I had completed a five mile run with a few difficult hills followed by the blessing of a downhill sprint. I love running downhill, the wind in my hair, the quickened pace, the joy. But if I am always running down, I never receive the benefits of the climb, number one being stronger legs and being able to squeeze into my jeans post washing. I also don't get the exhilaration when I finally make it to the top, the challenge having been met. Yesterday I ran Blue Hill Road, a one mile incline, an endless incline where at every corner the hill gets steeper. I ran, I didn't stop, and at the top I felt elation, I had done it, I had spanked that hill. If I can do Blue Hill, what else can I do in life? Maybe ask for help when it is scary, or publish a book and actually hand it to someone and say, "here, read this, these are my words that I received while in meditation or prayer. These are my intimate moments with God, put down on paper." Maybe I could just do that. Maybe I could do anything that scares me, because I was able to make it up that hill, me - ex smoker, ex gym class reject. So today my perspective has changed. "May you run downhill after you have had the opportunity to run up."