Running - or not - on vacation

Usually I manage to fit in running when I travel, but the past week we put 3146 miles on our motorcycle, and I only fit in three short runs. Three is better than zero, but the lack of running made me cranky and sitting in one position on the motorcycle for 6-16 hours each day led to cramps in my feet, calf muscles, and hamstrings.

I like to run outside when we travel so I can scope out the area and find neat places to visit. This trip we stayed in hotels right off the Interstate, and running on the highway is never my idea of fun. One night I used the eliptical in the hotel fitness center (I wonder why they don't call it a fitness closet, because that's what it resembled?) and forced myself to grind out 30 minutes.

Two days later, in another Insterstate hotel in a different state, I ran on the treadmill. This fitness center was a bit larger, but it had to be over 90 degrees inside. I ran one of my favorite speed drills:  5-4-3-2-1 or 5 minutes fast; 5 minutes easy; 4 minutes fast; 4 minutes easy; etc. I drank water during each easy run and managed to crank out 45 minutes total. The experience wasn't any fun at all, but at least I felt better with some type of exercise.

We stayed two nights in a hotel in Missouri that didn't even have a fitness closet. I made do with stretching, push-ups and sit-ups in our room. Some exercise is always better than no exercise, right?

The best run was outside - of course. We stayed in Valparaiso, Indiana, at my stepmother's home and I ran on the wooded path that winds through her neighborhood. Finally I enjoyed the run, even though it was hot and my legs were sore. As I ran I remembered how our boys used to love playing in the dry creekbed that snakes along part of the path, and how my father would entertain them with stories of Alex the Bear. He created Alex the Bear when we were children, and the stories continued with another generation. One year during our visit the creekbed was muddy, and of course the boys came back to the house covered in mud. Another year they joined their cousin Jackson in tieing ropes to the small footbridges on the path. My sister Diane and I run on this path when we visit, and through the town remembering each house where we lived, the schools we attended, and the park with the memorial tree and bench for our parents.

Why is it so much easier to run outside, when my thoughts skip from one topic to another, than to run inside with the noise of a TV in my head? Why do I prefer the outdoor heat and humidity to inside airconditioning? Why would I rather end up with frozen eyelashes when the temperature dips toward zero than pound out miles on the treadmill in a warm gym?

I think it's because running outside doesn't really seem like work. It's time to myself, opportunity to listen to the birds or my own breath,  a chance to once again hear my father's voice as he tells stories of Alex the Bear.

Long run = hills = fun (OK, fun AND sore legs)

I decided that this summer I would challenge myself with long runs packed with hills, weekly speed workouts, and cross-training on my bike and in the pool. From June 1st through at least September 30th I want to push myself a bit harder just to see what happens. Maybe I'll get faster in the next marathon, the Top of Utah in September. Perhaps I'll finish higher up in a sprint triathlon this summer. I'd love to nail the hills in the 100 on 100 relay.

Ghandi's thoughts are driving me this summer:

“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

 

I want my destiny this summer to be strength, confidence, and courage. To start that process, I'm focusing on positive thoughts when I'm running. Instead of telling myself the hill is too steep, the weather too hot, my legs too tired - I'm barking out motivation that my drill sergeant at Ft. Bragg would have loved (but without as many expletives).

Long runs this summer include hills, lots of hills. Today's run starts downhill on East Manchester Road, which of course means I have to run UP this hill on the way back home. That's the plan, right? Center Hill waits just after mile 2. Piece of cake.

A gradual uphill on 7A, until a steeper section before the left turn onto North Road. Lots of positive thoughts and old Army chants gear me up for the assault on Overlook, a 1.3 mile steady climb to Morse Hill. My quads get an even better workout running downhill on Wind Hill, then another right turn back onto North Road for two more hills before Route 30.

Manchester West Road is a series of three fairly steep hills followed by a long, more gentle decline into the Village. I navigate the steep downhill section on Union Street by running on the golf cart path instead of the road. There aren't many golfers out this morning, and no one seems to notice as I lean into the downhill and promise my quads I'll reward them with a cold shower.

2.5 miles to go as I turn onto Richville Road. There are two more hills before I reach home, and I fortify myself with the last of my Gatorade and start chanting as I head up the first, steeper hill. Ghandi echoes in my mind:  beliefs - thoughts - words - actions - habits - values - destiny. I believe I will run without walking up this hill. I AM running up this hill. Running up hills with a light, springy step is my destiny - fueled by a whole bunch of hilly, determined miles.

I sprint down the last 1/3 mile of our dirt road toward home, willing my legs to turnover faster. The cold shower I promised my quads feels great. Another hard run completed. More hills conquered.

Tomorrow I plan to ride my bike UP Union Street, something I usually dread. The first trail run of the Pine Hill Park Summer Sunset Series is tomorrow night, and of course that means lots of hills. No dread allowed this summer; Ghandi's thoughts are going to push me up Union Street in the morning and the mountain bike trails at sunset. Bring it!

A tale of three marathons

October 2011 was the start of our journey toward completing a Spring marathon. 29 women ran long miles together every other weekend, got up at 4am to fit in miles before work, pounded out miles on the treadmill when necessary, battled illness and injury, and developed lasting friendships.

Troy, Alisa and Kim after 18 miles in March

We learned to run with frozen eyelashes, to tuck water bottles inside our jackets to prevent them from freezing, the warmest way to layer clothing, and that chocolate milk is a perfect recovery beverage no matter what the weather throws at us.

Patty, Mandy, Linda and Jen finish 20 miles

Four of us started the three marathon journey at the Flying Pig marathon in Cincinnati. This race has long been on my to-do list, because who can resist a medal with the front - and back - of a pig on it? My sister from Houston decided to join me, along with Fern, Troy and Jill who thought a marathon in Ohio sounded like fun. It WAS fun - lots of pig-related waterstops like the Hawg Wash where they gave us wet, cold towels to drape around our necks, or the Big Bad Wolf costumed teens who chased the little piggies all the way home.



Diane and I with volunteers at the pasta dinner



Our local marathon, the Shires point-to-point race from Bennington to Mancheste,r was next up for 10 women from our group. Last year they ran in a downpour in 50 degree temperatures. This year we had a heat wave, with relentless sun and temperatures in the 90's. The theme for the day was 'ice, ice baby' as ice rubbed on the neck and wrists, dumped into cups of water and Gatorade, and stuffed into running bras and calf sleeves saved the day. It was brutal yet empowering:  if I can run 26.2 miles in this type of heat, I can do anything.

before the Shires marathon

The final marathon for our group this Spring was the Vermont City marathon in Burlington, VT over Memorial Day weekend. 11 women from our group ran with the thousands of other relay team members and marathoners, steadily climbing up the steep hill on Battery Street and winding along the bike path next to Lake Champlain.

showing off Vermont City marathon medals

7 months. 29 women. 3 races. Hundreds of miles on the roads between Bennington and Manchester. Rain, snow, mud, sun and every so often a perfect running day that made us want to keep running longer. Blisters, lost toenails, sore knees and quads, IT band issues. Thank goodness for compression tights, ice, fuel belts, and Honey Stingers. Hours of conversations about children, work, spouses, running, and does celery really increase sex drive?

The driving force behind the miles was friendship. We trained together, we took a Pilates class together, we made pizzas together at Mandy's house with the help of master baker Jed (who also finsihed the Vermont City Marathon with us), we enjoyed post-run meals at Chauney's together. We often ran on our own during the week, but there was always the encouragement of the rest of the group to keep us going, especially when we posted about the run on Facebook, or watched Mandy's videos of our long runs or along the course in Burlington.

Thanks for a fantastic, amazing, wonderful marathon training and racing season my friends. We trained and ran the marathon - Because we can.

T-shirt tales

I have a stack of race t-shirts in my closet that appears to multiply exponentially all on its own. 2-3 times per year I cull through the stack, giving away ones that don't fit, or aren't in a favorite color, or don't inspire me. I have a cotton t-shirt from my first marathon in 2008, all three from the 100 on 100 relay, a favorite long-sleeve from the Marine Corps Marathon, a bright purple zip-neck from the Fargo Marathon, and a very worn cotton t-shirt from the 2001 New York City marathon, only 2 months after 9-11. My sister ran both the Marine Corps and NYC marathons with me, and wearing those shirts reminds me of the bond we share as sisters and as runners.

Because each shirt has a story to tell, I asked the women in the marathon training group to wear a favorite race shirt to our last 20 mile run on Sunday. Some of the stories were short, a couple were long, and all evoked smiles.

Andrea wore a short-sleeve shirt from her first triathlon, where the water temperature was 58 degrees, she rode an old mountain bike, and her only training runs were on the treadmill. She not only survived the freezing water, she's gone on to do several more tris.

Linda wore her beautiful blue long-sleeve shirt from the 1st Wineglass Half-Marathon, and proceeded to give us a tour-guide's thumbnail  sketch of a fantastic weekend spent wine tasting, dining, traveling - and of course completing a half-marathon. Several women in the group are already making plans to join her for the event this year.

Gail wore a red fleece jacket from the 2011 Marine Corps Marathon, completed just one month after the 9-11 tragedy. The course was re-routed to circle the Pentagon, with the only sound the soft slapping of the runners' shoes as they contemplated the unthinkable events of that day.

Kathy wore an orange shirt from this year's Hooter's Half-Marathon. She didn't bring the medal, but we had a lot of fun imagining what it must look like!

Laurie wore the shirt from the Warrior Dash, a 5K romp through mud and over obstacles including jumping over fire. She didn't wear the warrior hat with fur and horns, much to our dismay and disappointment.

Mandy wore one of the many Training for More t-shirts she's earned over the past 5 years of running with the group. Several of the women putting in their 20 miles Sunday met in one of those groups, at a time when 13.6 miles seemed like an unachievable distance, and today is an easy run.

Alisa wore her first race shirt, earned just last weekend at the Plattsburgh half-marathon in freezing cold weather. She and her friends arrived only a few minutes before the race started, leaving home in the dark hours of early morning to drive to the event. They only had shirts left in size small and extra-large. Luckily for her, she wears a small!

I wore a black jacket from the Marshall Marathon I ran in November last year. 75 members of the Marshall University football team died in a plane crash in 1970, and the marathon remembers them in several ways throughout the day. The race not only finishes on the football field, but a volunteer handed me a football to carry as I ran the final yards. Even tired legs had to sprint to the finish in the endzone.

Race organizers look at their shirts as a way to promote sponsors and advertise their event. I'm not sure they understand the powerful memories that are embedded in those shirts.

Relay races are about more than running

Running Mary to the finish

Yesterday five of us from our Training for More running groups finished the inaugural Old Route Relay, a 50 mile loop run in Hinesburg, VT and the surrounding area. Gail, Fern and I are relay veterans, having completed at least one of the 100 on 100 (100 miles on Vermont Route 100) relay races over the previous three years. Mary and Faith were our 'relay virgins', ready to complete their first relay race.

A relay event is more than simply taking turns covering a 50 mile course. We started at 11am on Saturday when we met at Fern's house to load up her car with overnight essentials, gear for the relay, and food - lots of food. Relay teams are self-sufficient, providing our own water, food, Gu, sports drinks, etc. We plan ahead for any possibility and operate with the idea that more (food) is always better.

Along the drive up to Hinesburg we talked about past races, our current training programs, family, travel, work; the talk never faltered and there was lots of laughter and fun. As we drove the course, the temperature dropped almost 30 degrees and a light rain started to fall. Perfect running weather! We noted the hills, the transition areas, the possible places to pee, and where we could stop for more food if necessary.

Fern took us to one of her favorite running stores, Fleet Feet in Essex Junction, where we resisted temptation and purchased only new flavors of gels and old-standby sports drinks. Dinner at Three Tomatoes involved lots of pasta and water to fuel the next day's run. We were in bed by 9am, with a 4am wake-up call.

The day of the race we loaded up the car at 4:30am and drove the 11 miles to the start in complete darkness and temperatures in the low 30's, glad that we scouted the course the previous day. Fern, our first runner, had no time to be nervous as the race director lined up the group starting at 5:30am, gave us a few instructions, and yelled "Go!".

A relay is a complex undertaking. Each of us ran in order:  Fern #1, Gail #2, Faith #3, Lynn #4, Mary #5. As Fern started running to the first transition area 7.2 miles away, the rest of us took a few minutes for one last visit to the restroom, climbed into the car, and drove off in search of Fern. Whenever we passed a runner, we rolled down the window and cheered them on. We drove to the first turn, parked the car, and as we saw Fern run up we spilled out of the car, cheering her on and making sure she made the correct turn. Then we climbed back into the car, drove ahead, and repeated the process until we reached the transition area.

Hundreds of times during the day we repeating the following:  climb in the car, drive ahead of the runner, stop and wait for the runner, cheer them on. Sometimes the routine varied:  we stopped for gas, to purchase scones and muffins at a bakery, to use an indoor bathroom. We changed out of cold and wet running clothes in the car. We drank chocolate milk, ate energy bars and pretzels, shared hard-boiled eggs and string cheese, and drank water constantly to refuel and get ready for the next run.

The only quiet time was when I was running. This was the first year of the Old Route Relay, and there were only 32 teams. We ran by ourselves the vast majority of the time, periodically seeing other relay teams and exchanging hellos and information. Most of the route was along rural roads with very little traffic. The weather stayed cold and overcast, with fog and clouds obscuring any possible mountain views. As I ran along, pushing the pace faster than usual because this IS a race, after all, I noticed the cows in the green fields, the smell of fresh manure, and the daffodils blooming by the farmhouses. Periodically the silence was broken by the sound of our car coming up behind me, and my teammates cheering out the windows. "Are you OK?" "Do you need any water?" "You look great!". Then it was back to listening to my feet crunch in the gravel as I continued the run.

Tradition holds that everyone on the team runs the last few yards together. This was easy for Mary, our last runner, since she had built up speed running down the hill and had the finish line in her sights. The rest of us moved more slowly as we tried to work the kinks out of sore, tired, and cold joints and muscles. We managed to cross the finish line together, cementing the fact that we were a team.

Mary, Gail, Fern, Faith and Lynn after the finish



The day wasn't over! We drove south toward home, looking for a restaurant with hot food after a long day snacking on food from our cooler. The conversation continued, this time telling stories of the various routes we ran that day, the other relay teams we met, and of course more laughter. We pulled back into Fern's driveway at 5:30pm on Sunday, 30 hours after we left.

Running is often a solo endeavor as we fit time to run into busy lives. The running groups give us the opportunity for weekly group training runs, and we often go to races together. Even if we run alongside someone else during the race, it's still an individual experience.

A relay is a group event from start to finish, changing and enriching the entire race experience. After so much time spent together, we appreciate the details of each other's lives. Our friendships deepen as we cover the miles. Add another medal to my collection, another t-shirt to my drawer, and memories to be savored as I run again this week.

Hitting double digits for the first time

the 8am group

the 9am group

Today the half-marathon group put in their first double-digit training session:  10 miles. Not only did they walk or run 10 miles, they were 10 HILLY miles. We started up a hill within the first half mile, and the hills kept coming. We then ran down two steep hills, just to add in a bit more fun (along with some very loud complaining from our quads). The last half-mile was as flat as it gets in Vermont.

Nearly everyone is nervous about covering 10 miles. It seems like 10 miles is a whole lot longer than 9 miles, even though as my friend Mandy likes to say:  "you just run 1 mile. 10 times."

Wrapping your head around 10 miles is daunting. It's not quite 10 miles from my house to Dorset, but that seems like a long way. It's 3 miles to the grocery store, but I never think about running to the grocery store; I drive to the grocery store. Even bicyling 10 miles seems like a good amount of exercise.

Today we ran or walked 10 miles and when we're back inside Cornerstone, talking about the route, the hills, the sleet, the hail, the icy marble sidewalks and the slippery dirt roads; 10 miles doesn't seem so far.

We have 4 more weeks in our half-marathon training schedule, and now that we've covered 10 miles, 13.1 miles seems reachable. In fact, today Lilibeth asked:  "What are we going to train for next?" - and this was before we started off on our 10 mile jaunt.

These ladies are strong mentally and physically, they're having fun, and they're putting in their miles. After they finish the half-marathon on April 1st, 'next' is whatever they want it to be.

We run to eat

Last week I was doing a fartlek (speed play) run with Fern. As we sped up the steepest hill, our heart rates zooming up into the highest zones, she started reciting the ingredients in the salad she prepared for lunch after she finished the run. While I was trying just to breathe and keep moving forward, she merrily sang out:  "avocoado - huff, huff; chicken - huff, huff; favorite vegetables". The vision of the beautiful, delicious salad powered her up the hill. After we caught our breaths and flew down the other side of the hill, we laughed about the motivational qualities of food.

Saturday the marathon group planned breakfast/brunch/lunch after finishing 18 miles. Cups of hot coffee warmed cold hands, glasses of chocolate milk refueled our muscles, and eggs, sandwiches, and Chauncey's house specialty - home-made potato chips - satisfied our hunger. The meal wasn't just about the food, although eating was definitely a priority. The time together to talk, laugh, and get to know each other better fueled our minds and emotions as we replaced our energy stores.

We decided to skip dessert.