Just Breathe

Last year, I started going to a yoga class once a week in addition to my running to supplement my training with a little strength and flexibility. I was absolutely horrendous at it. I had weak arms, awful balance, tight hamstrings (and, well, tight pretty much everything), erratic breathing, and, maybe worst of all, an overactive mind that I just couldn't seem to get a hold of. I had avoided yoga like the plague up until that point. First of all, I hate doing things I'm bad at, and I was decidedly bad at anything that required me to be bendy. And second, I was not into all of that breathing and feelings mumbo jumbo that I thought yoga was about - looking back now, probably because I was uncomfortable trying to even get a grasp on all of that. But, regardless of my disdain for what I thought yoga was and would be for me, I started going at the urging of several friends who touted the benefits to their running routine. I certainly didn't love it, but as I continued to go, yoga started to slowly grow on me, and grow on my running.

The first benefit I noticed from yoga was a surprising one for me. It wasn't strength or flexibility related at all (though I did notice an improvement in both over time), but rather it had to do with my composure. Where I would sometimes feel my breathing become hurried and stressed during a run, I started to experience calmness. And where my breath went, my body seemed to follow. I started to feel a release in where my muscles normally tensed and gripped during a run, and the more I felt this way, the more easily running seemed to start coming to me.

I'm lucky now to take a yoga class taught by my wonderful friend and former college roommate, Meghan Meade. I credit Megs with getting me on the running bandwagon back in college, and now, I can credit her with my actual enjoyment of yoga. Yes, that's right, I actually like going to yoga now. In last week's class, we were doing crow pose, which, if you aren't familiar, involves balancing on your hands with your knees propped up on your triceps (if that makes no sense, here's a picture). Anyways, I have been oh so close to being able to hold myself up on my arms for a couple of weeks now, and this week, Megs said something that all of the sudden made everything click. She said "Smooth out your breathing. When your breath is smooth and controlled, your body will relax and will know that what you are doing is okay." And literally, I did just as she said, and next thing I knew, there I was, in crow, balancing, not falling on my face - of course until I realized that I WAS DOING IT! and I fell out of it. But the point is, that advice, that your body follows your breath, was something that I had not really thought explicitly about since I had first started yoga and had noticed that initial benefit to my running.

Fast forward to Tuesday. As I mentioned in my blog, I wasn't exactly wild about going to my track workout on Tuesday night. But, I went, and was fortunate to run with two teammates who both run at a challenging pace for me, but not so fast that I am dying trying to keep up. We worked together really well throughout the workout (12 x 600 meter repeats), hitting pretty consistent splits that were a good deal faster than I've been able to do on my own or in previous workouts. I was feeling good through 8 repeats when my teammate suggested that we do our next two repeats in the same fashion as we had been doing the others, but for the last two, we should try to speed it up a little. Uh Oh. I was seriously in doubt that I would be able to do any repeats, even two, faster than what I had been doing. Nevermind the fact that for the first faster repeat it was my turn to lead our group. Great.

I took the lead as we came upon the beginning of repeat number 11 and did my best to channel my inner Shalane Flanagan. For anyone who doesn't know, Shalane just won the women's olympic trials in the marathon, but she is also a killer on the track. I dug deep and tried to push as hard as I could. After the first lap (of 3) I wasn't sure I'd be able to sustain the speed, and then my crow experience from yoga the day before popped into my head. Control your breathing. So I did, I concentrated as hard as I could on the breath going in and out of my lungs, breathing relaxation into my neck and shoulders as my legs pushed on below me. When the repeat was done, we had shaved almost 10 seconds off of our previous ones. I was wiped out, but exhilarated.

I certainly don't expect simply concentrating on breathing to get me through the entire marathon. But as someone who often times mentally has a harder time with running than I do physically, what I've learned in yoga class has helped me to partially separate the mental from the physical when I run. I truly believe that will help me get through the 26.2 in April when I reach that point, often around mile 22, where I become overwhelmed and unsure of my ability to finish.

Back at it

For some reason, this afternoon I was compelled to pop on over to the old blog. I'm really not sure why. I certainly knew that there wasn't going to be anything new there - after all, I have barely even glanced at the thing since 2009, never mind written anything. But regardless of reason, I found myself looking back at some of the old posts and thinking to myself about how, at least in the beginning, I really enjoyed blogging. Not to mention, I have this great record of training for my first marathon - how it was hard, how it was great... really, how it all changed my life.

This year, after running Boston, my 5th, I'm planning on hanging up the old running shoes. Well... that's sort of over-dramatic - more specifically, I'm planning on hanging up my Boston Marathon running shoes. Honestly, I'm not sure I'll actually follow through with that plan. But, after 5 years, and over $50,000 raised for Dana-Farber, I think I'm ready for a new challenge. Don't get me wrong, I will always support Dana-Farber, and DFMC. They are two things that will always be an important part of my life. But, looking towards next year, I'm looking forward to the possibility of maybe not having to plan 4 months of my life around long runs and training. Yeah, that's right... I said maybe. Like I said, this is all a "plan," I haven't always been known for ability to follow through on said plans.

Which brings me to now, here, writing this blog entry. After realizing what a wonderfully transformative experience my first marathon was through re-visiting my blog, I've decided to document my "last" marathon in similar fashion. Sure, maybe I'll run other marathons in the future, but for some reason, number 5 seems like a good time to stop for now. We'll see.

Anyways, I've managed to miss documenting the first month or so of training... I'll fill you in: I ran. A lot. It got cold. It got weirdly warm for awhile. It got cold again, and then it snowed a ton. Now it's warm again. And tonight, I am off to my second track workout. You know how I love track workouts...

Here's to DFMC Number 5, and a successful year of training and fundraising. I look forward to seeing what this year brings, and recording the memories as I go.

Time to celebrate

It's been over a month since I last posted... maybe almost 2 months now... I don't know, I've lost count. Regardless, it's been awhile. And it's funny, up until the last couple of weeks, I haven't had the urge to write at all. Blogging is like running that way- while you're in the habit of doing it, it's east to keep it up, but as soon as you stop for any length of time, it sure is easy to forget about all together. Like Jack says, it's the law of inertia- objects in motion will stay in motion... objects not in motion... well, you get the idea. Anyways, long story short, there has been no blogging, and I've been a-okay with it.

Last year, I felt like I needed my blog. I needed to write (type) everything that happened to me because it was new, because I wasn't sure how I felt as it was happening, because I didn't want to forget a thing, and most importantly because I needed a release. I was so far out of my comfort zone, experiencing something that I wasn't quite sure how to handle, that I needed to do something to let it all out... enter, my blog. The thing about my blog was that I basically used it as a journal- a very personal journal, that I just so happened to publish on the internet. I wrote it just for myself. It didn't matter to me who read it, if anyone. In fact, in my head, I preferred to believe that no one was reading- it made it easier to just let my thoughts out, even share a few (emphasis on a few) feelings.

Regardless, something changed. When I first started training for Boston this year, I tried to share my experiences, I tried to write things that would matter, things that would mean something to anyone who read them. I started focusing on how I was writing, and what I was writing about, rather than why I was writing it. And that's when it started to become a chore... Sure, there were a few times when I managed to sit down and just let it all out, but those times were few and far between, interrupted by weeks of my trying to write the "perfect" blog post (is there even such a thing?) I lost any and all inspiration for writing- and, like I said in the beginning, once I had stopped blogging for an extended period of time, it was really easy to just keep not blogging.

Well, not anymore- with the marathon only 2 days away, and months of training on machines, successes, setbacks, good runs, bad runs, frustration, sadness, happiness, and good times with the DFMC running crew- I've got a lot of pent up feelings and thoughts, and I'm just going to write- for no one but myself.

This has been one hell of a training season- emphasis on hell. I have spent more hours than I will ever care to actually count on a God-forsaken machine, working myself to the point of exhaustion and dizziness, I have spent months in pain- both running and walking, and I have watched with almost uncontrollable jealousy as new DFMC buddies had the opportunity to experience all the marathon challenge has to offer for the first time- the new friendships, the first long run, the first time climbing up the stairs at Crossroads after a cold run in from Newton- all while I have begrudgingly slaved away at the gym. I spent a good portion of my training season depressed and angry at my body, wondering if I really could pull it together in time to actually run the marathon. Was it worth all of the hard work I was doing? Would it even pay off? Was I torturing myself on a daily basis for nothing? Was I being crazy to think that this was even possible? For over a month, I walked the fine line between dedication and perseverance, and completely losing my mind- never quite sure which side I would eventually lean too far on.

I guess, despite all of the near-mental breakdowns I had, I ended up on the dedication and perseverance side because here I am, more or less injury free, gearing up to run my second Boston Marathon. Funny thing is, even though I've done this before, even though I pretty much know what to expect, even though my injury is mostly gone and hasn't given me trouble in awhile, I am more nervous this year than I ever could have even imagined being last year. My stomach has been full of butterflies since last week, I haven't been able to eat, the knots in my back muscles from stress have formed knots of their own, I have a near constant headache from holding the worried look that seems to be plastered on my face, and to top it all off, I seem to have quite literally worried myself sick... or at the very least my allergies have started kicking in. 

I have spent the last two weeks just wishing the marathon would be over. I would have given anything for all of the stress and anxiety and build up be over. And then a couple of days ago, I was talking to a friend who said something to the effect of "I wish the marathon was tomorrow and then we could just get it over with." I surprised myself by thinking in response, "I don't." It occured to me that, as much as there is a part of me that would just like the race part to be over, there is so much to look forward to during Marathon weekend- lunches and dinners with friends, my dad coming into town, the race expo, the buzz around the city, watching the finish area being set up, the T being full of runners in their new marathon jackets, the fresh coat of paint on the finish line, the DFMC pasta party, one more chance to hang out with Kori and her family before the race, the pep talks from Jack- why would I ever want to wish all of that away? All of the sudden, the marathon wasn't something I just wanted to get over with, it was the culmination of a weekend that is filled with wonderful and unforgettable experiences. Finally, what Jack has always said to us- that we should think of the marathon not as the final exam, but as the graduation celebration for months of hard work- made total sense.  This weekend- the expo, the pasta party, the friends and family- is all about celebration, and the marathon is merely the final stage of the party (well, the second to final... there is always dancing to be done at Shifter's after crossing the finish line).  So, let the celebration begin!  I'm putting my nerves aside and I'm going to enjoy every minute of this weekend.  After spending the amount of time I did on the Arc Trainer this winter, I think I deserve it.

A good week... finally

Lots of exciting things have happened this past week. I'm too lazy to attempt to make some sort of cohesive blog post out of them all, so I think I'll just do this one list style... here it goes:

Exciting thing #1: I finally got my act together and sent out my fundraising letter! (I probably should not be admitting this) I would be lying if I said that the fact that I have been injured didn't play a major role in my lack of motivation to get this done. But I also have to admit that writing this letter for my second year on DFMC was much more difficult than last year. Last year I relied heavily on the "WHOA! Lauren is running a marathon... I'd pay (or rather, donate) to see that!" factor to pique people's interest, make them aware of my cause and bring in donations. This year, me running is old news. But this past weekend, I had an epiphany. Me running a marathon may be old news, but cancer is most certainly not. And with that in mind, I wrote my letter, got my first round of emails out the door, and am well on my way to raising $17,000 (fingers crossed) for cancer research.

Exciting thing #2: I ran! I ran 3 miles, no stopping, outside, and with very minimal hip pain! If you could have seen the smile on my face as I came into the final stretch of the run over the Charlestown Bridge... a 3 mile run has never made me quite so happy.

Exciting thing #3: I walked down the hill the morning after my run with no pain! While this doesn't seem like much, trust me it is. Every morning, whether I'm going to work or going to get coffee on the weekends, I walk down the same hill and feel like a 90 year-old woman hobbling around on my bum hip. There are days when the pain has been so bad that I have to inch down the sidewalk, making what should be a 2 minute walk into upwards of 5. It was to the point where I had forgotten what a normal, pain-free walk downhill even felt like. And then Sunday morning as I prepared to hobble down for my coffee, my hip greeted me with a pleasant surprise... nothing! I felt like a normal person walking down a hill- sad that this is exciting.

Exciting thing #4: On Sunday afternoon, I did my long "run" on the Arc Trainer at my gym. Now, I think I've already made clear my dislike of this machine, but with the marathon fast approaching, I put my hatred aside and spent the next 3 hours rocking out to my ipod, kicking my own butt on the AT, and receiving strange looks from nearly everyone around me. Sure, 3 hours on a machine is a little crazy, but when I'm in training, anything goes. I left the gym feeling a little woozy, a little crazy, and a lot of proud that I managed to stick it out.

And finally, Exciting thing #5: Despite some hard workouts and some running, I have been pretty much pain free for the last 5 days or so. What does this mean? Well, I'm hoping it means I'm on the road to recovery, and more importantly, just on the road in general. I talked to Jack last night at track and he gave me the okay to try and get myself ready to run the New Bedford Half coming up on March 15. Of course, this is all dependent on the fact that my hip continues to feel good, but the prospect of maybe, just maybe, being able to run 13 fishy smelling miles (walking through the water stops of course... see Jack, I did listen!) in 2 and a half weeks has got me feeling positively giddy! (I cannot believe I just admitted that, remember when I hated running?)

Anyways, all in all, it's been a good week, and I'm in good spirits... here's hoping it stays that way. Between New Bedford, fundraising and Boston, I've got a lot of work ahead of me , but I'm ready for it (and so is my hip hopefully). 1 month, 22 days to go...

I'll admit I've sort of fallen off the face of the earth lately. I've been busy dealing (and not very well) with a seemingly endless hip injury that has kept me off the roads for nearly a month now. It's been taking up a lot of my time between thinking about how miserable I am not running, going to physical therapy, and spending countless hours on indoor workout machines. But this past Saturday, while boring myself to death on the elliptical machine as my dear DFMC teammates enjoyed the bliss of a cool, crisp morning long run, I had a sudden realization about training and my state of injury. It is time to make a decision. If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to try and get myself better and try to run this marathon, I had better suck it up, stop wallowing in my body's inadequacies, and work my ass off for the next two months.

Now, this isn't exactly news to me. I knew what it would take to work hard through an injury and still run the marathon. I was so aware of what it would take, in fact, that I have always said that I would probably quit before doing such a thing. Clearly, I underestimated my own stubborness. Despite the fact that I have kept pushing on through my injury though, I honestly cannot say that I have been giving it my all. Physically I may have been pushing myself as much as possible, but I've been putting my body through the motions- my heart just hasn't been in it. Even though I've continued my training on the machines since my hip has become a problem, I have merely been putting in the time and logging the "miles." Sure, the time and the miles are important, but that's only half of the equation for running a marathon- in fact, for me, it's probably more like only 20% of the equation. Being a mental runner whose biggest opponent in running is my own head the vast majority of the time, the physical aspect of running has never really been my problem. That's not to say that I can go out and run any distance, any speed with ease (which is quite obviously not the case, even when I'm healthy) but I have learned that when my head and my heart are in it, my legs are nearly unstoppable.

In the past year I have continually pushed myself past what I thought my body was capable of. From the half marathon in New Bedford, to the marathon in April, to track workouts and races throughout the summer, my heart and my head have carried me faster and longer than I ever thought I could go. Now, in the face of injury, I need to push my heart and my head- to be smart, to not give up, to accept that not everyday and every workout is going to be perfect, to work hard, and most importantly, to believe that I can do this. On good days, it is relatively easy. On good days, I believe that I can train indoors, get my hip flexor to cooperate, and be out there on April 20 lined up to run 26.2 miles with 25,000 other crazy runners, confident that, while I may not have the best race of my life, I will finish. On bad days though, that all seems far fetched and... well, pretty impossible. On bad days, it makes me sick to my stomach to think that I will be sitting on the sidelines and watching as my friends experience that euphoria that only finishing a marathon can create, knowing that nothing but my own body held me back from that same elation. I know that if I have any hope at all of running in April, I have to put thoughts like that out of my head- they only obscure the view of my goal to get better and to run, and right now, my head needs no distraction from the task at hand. I certainly have my work cut out for me over these next two months, and I know that it won't be easy, but I think... no, I know, I'm ready to take on the challenge.

No matter how much work I do, how dedicated I am to physical therapy, how hard I push myself in training, there's still a chance that I may not be able to run in April- but I'll never know what I'm capable of unless I put everything I have into training for the next two months and give it a shot. My body has surprised me countless times before, and with my heart and my head pushing it along, who knows what it will be able to do this time. I certainly will never know unless I try.

Krzyrunner

So remember yesterday when I mentioned the crazy runner inside of me who rears her ugly head in the face of injury and forces me to keep running? Well, she was back with a vengeance last night (probably in response to me bad mouthing her on my blog), and I thought I'd give you a little glimpse into exactly what I'm dealing with here.

Last night after work, I went to the gym with the intention of doing an easy workout on the arc trainer- something to just get my legs moving but hopefully not aggravate my hip further. I went and got changed and came back upstairs to the workout area to find complete and total mayhem all around me (I hate New Year's resolutions for this very reason). Every single machine, even the lone arc trainer, which no one but me ever uses, was occupied. With the exception, of course, of one treadmill. I told myself that I could get on the treadmill, which was conveniently located right next to the arc trainer, and do a gentle jog until the arc trainer freed up. It seemed harmless enough, so I hopped on and started to jog. For the first 20 or so strides, I was in a lot of pain, but as my hip loosened up, I started to feel really good. About half a mile into my jog, I noticed the girl starting to get off of the arc trainer... and that's when it happened. The crazy runner inside of me (we'll call her, Krzyrunner- clever, I know) came out.

Krzyrunner: You can't get off the treadmill now, you've only run half a mile. You should at least finish a full mile to make it worth it.

Me: I don't know. I mean, I just wrote a blog all about taking care of yourself and not running through pain. I should probably stop running...

Krzyrunner: Don't be a baby! Do you feel any pain?? I certainly don't, and we share a body. Come on... one mile never hurt anyone...

Me: Ok, just ONE MILE. I'll just run this mile and then hop on the arc trainer.

So, I kept running. And, of course, someone else got on the arc trainer with about one tenth of a mile to go.

Krzyrunner: (evil cackle) Well, now that you're stuck on the treadmill why don't you at least make a workout of it. No sense in just jogging the whole time.

Me: I don't know, I don't want to mess up my hip anymore than I already have.

Krzyrunner: I don't feel anything wrong with our hip! It feels fine- let's do some mile repeats!

She was right, my hip was feeling remarkably good.

Me: Ok, I'll just do a couple of miles at a faster pace- it won't hurt anything.

So, I did. I ran a second mile, and a third... and a fourth and a fifth. And I felt good, and I felt strong the whole time. But as the mile counter crept up towards 5.5 miles, my arm serendipitously knocked my ipod off the treadmill and it went flying off the belt behind me. I paused the treadmill and jumped off to grab it, only to feel a surge of pain in my hip flexor. Crap.

I grabbed my ipod, and at the urging of Krzyrunner ("only a mile and a half to go and you can consider this a worthwhile workout- don't wimp out now!") I hopped back on the treadmill. After a few painful and creaky steps, I felt my hip warm back up again and the pain melted away. But then, suddenly it occurred to me that this was just not normal (no, not the conversation with a non-existant person in my mind part... the hurting part) and I hit the STOP button. Krzyrunner was screaming at me in my head, but I knew that it would be better for me to just get on the arc trainer (which was finally unoccupied) and finish up my workout there. And I did. And I felt pretty good once I was done.

So, that's what goes on in my head when I'm fighting the urge to run even when I know I'm not supposed to (it's pretty frightening, right?) Obviously, Krzyrunner doesn't have to be all that persuasive to get me to run, because, as much as I hate to admit it, I want to be running. But, I have to keep reminding myself (and Krzyrunner) that I really want to be running in APRIL. And at the rate I'm going, I may not make it that long. So here's hoping Krzy cooperates from now on and I can get this injury cleared up. There's a long road of training ahead, and if I can take care of this now, then there will be plenty of miles that she and I can run together in the future.

Learning the hard way...

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I was blessed with a relatively easy and painless marathon training season last year. Maybe it was because my body was in complete shock at what I was doing the whole time, or maybe it was shear luck (probably some combination of the two) but either way, training went about as smoothly as one could possibly hope for it to go. This year, on the other hand... well, it's only January and it's already been rough. That being said, what doesn't kill you will make you stronger, right? Well, I'm still kicking (so far anyways) so by the time all is said and done, I'm hoping I'll be approaching superman status.

But, in all seriousness, since I started having issues with my hip (first my adductor, now my hip flexor) I've been bombarded with advice and ideas of how to help get myself better. Some of it I listened to, most of it I didn't... you see, I like to learn things the hard way. But, luckily for you, because I have a tendency to be extremely difficult about following advice I don't like, you can learn from my mistakes. Some of this may seem like common sense to a normal person (probably most of it), I know that. But there's this crazy, stubborn person deep inside of me that takes over in the face of injury and sends me on a path to self-destruction (does this really only happen to just me??). That crazy person tells me to ignore common sense and JUST KEEP RUNNING, it doesn't hurt that bad. And next thing you know, I can barely walk. So anyways,... here are some of the things I've learned the hard way in the past couple of months:

- There is no glory in "playing through the pain"- I mean, it would be one thing if I hurt myself in game 7 of the NBA finals and played through my broken wrist to finish the game with a triple-double and the game winning free throw- but, let's be honest, I: 1) don't play in the NBA, 2) would probably be too much of a baby to play with a broken anything, and 3) am still only in training to run a marathon, not running the actual thing. There's a difference beween running through pain in a race, and running through pain in training- one is finite and geared towards accomplishing a specific goal, the other is just stupid. I've been accused of doing the stupid one... training through pain certainly isn't going to win me any races, all it's going to do (has done) is make me hurt more... which leads me to my next lesson...

- Listen- listen to Jack, listen to Tyler, even listen to your dad when he tells you maybe you should take it easy for a few days. The best way to deal with advice you don't want to hear is not to ignore it- the problem will only get worse. I, of course, figured this out after the problem got worse.

- Go see a doctor, or some sort of professional who can help fix you- you don't win any prizes for self-diagnosis and treatment (or for pretending the problem doesn't exist)- unless you consider pain a prize.

- Have really good friends who will listen to you whine and complain about how badly your body hurts without hating you (at least to your face)- I actually didn't learn this the hard way, I happened to be lucky enough to start out with friends who were willing to listen to me. Whining may not actually fix anything, but it sure does make me feel better.

- If you're hurt, the arc trainer is your friend (and also your arch nemesis)- it's boring, it's hot, it's tedious, oh, and it's boring- but, it helps your body feel like it's running, and stay in running shape, without hurting you more- it's magic.

- When you have a bad/ painful/ frustrating run or workout, shopping usually helps to clear that frustration right on up- unless you go shopping for bathing suits... just trust me on this one.

- Advil = miracle drug.

And finally...

- Eat real food- contrary to what I once thought, this does not mean eat grilled cheese and soup everyday. I've eaten actual real meals most days for the last week or so (like meat, vegetable starch, things I've actually cooked on my own) and what a difference it has made in my energy level... Maybe it's not an injury specific lesson, but a lesson I learned the hard way nonetheless. No wonder doctors and health professionals recommend this...

So there you have it... I'm sure there's more good advice that I've received and completely ignored, but, like I said, I've been bombarded with suggestions, it's hard to keep it all straight. Don't make the same mistake I did and ignore this stuff- a lot of it came straight from Jack and, as you know, In Jack We Trust (unless you're me, then In Jack You Trust after you can barely walk anymore). It may not be fun to take it easy for a couple of weeks when you're injured, but it's even less fun if you pretend everything is fine, keep running, and then you wind up in pain everytime you stand up from your desk... nevermind when you try to run. Trust me, I know... I learned it the hard way.

The Pattern Trap

Growing up, my mom watched a lot of home decorating/ home improvement shows (you know, the stuff on channels like HGTV) and from time to time the whole family would watch along with her. There was one particular show, one particular episode of a show, I don't remember what it was called, hosted by a very effiminate man named Christopher Lowell in which he discussed the disasterous decorating faux pas of the "Pattern Trap," the continued use of one pattern throughout an entire room's decor. For some reason, I have a feeling it had something to do with the repulsion in Christopher Lowell's voice as he squealed about the horrors of the dreaded Pattern Trap, it stuck with my dad, my sister and I, and we adopted the phrase into our family in relation to pretty much anything, but usually to get out of doing things like organizing, re-loading the dishwasher, etc. (I have a feeling that most people don't have to deal with re-loading a dishwasher, so I will explain- my sister and I have never been very good at efficiently loading the dishwasher- out of pure laziness really- and therefore would often be charged with re-loading it... to which, thanks to Christopher Lowell, we would respond, "I would, but I don't want to fall into a Pattern Trap.")

ANYWAYS, I bring up the Pattern Trap because I fear that I have fallen into one- not in relation to decor, of course, but in my actions. If you look at my December blog posts from last year, you will notice that there really aren't any. And, when I finally got back to blogging in January, I admitted that between the holiday season, the frigid cold, and getting sick, I hadn't done much running (or blogging for that matter). Well, my friends... I feel a Pattern Trap coming on. This December started out alright. I managed to get in a couple long runs, kept up my fitness on the arc trainer when I was hurt. But then the holidays got into full swing- eating and drinking with friends seemed so much more appealing than running- it got cold, it snowed a lot, and I got sick. On top of all that, I didn't write one blog entry for almost an entire month. In my defense, I've been trying, at least on the running front, a lot harder than I did last year. I have at least attempted running, but being sick/ injured didn't do me many favors and what runs I have gotten in have been painful, slow and all around difficult. Overall, December has been pretty much a failure on the training front.

I wouldn't be so upset about this little slump if it weren't for the fact that I have a half marathon to run at the end of January, on which my faith in my ability to ever have another good race again precariously rests. Which brings me to yet another Pattern Trap that I've gotten myself caught in... the one where I am running really well for months leading up to a race until about a month out from race day when my legs unexpectedly decide to crap out on me and don't recover until the day after said race. I don't know if it's a mental thing, or a physical thing, but whatever it is, I don't like it.

This whole Pattern Trap thing shouldn't/ doesn't really come as much of a surprise to me. I've been the mark of consistency my entire life- caught in an eternal Pattern Trap, if you will. My life, for the most part, is based around routine, pattern, and habits (I wonder if that's why I find running with no planned route so liberating...) Regardless, I've never really seen much of a downside to my routine until now.

Which brings me to last night. I got home from the airport after my Christmas trip to Chicago around 5:30 and decided to give running another shot (I had tried the day before to do a long run and failed miserably with a brutal 3 miles). I threw on my running clothes, laced up my sneaks, and headed out the door, all the while cursing my legs, and the Pattern Traps that I had convinced myself I had fallen victim to. I ran over to the river to do a loop... undecided as of yet the exact distance that I was going to do. Laboring through the first mile, I got to thinking that maybe this run wasn't the best idea. But then, just as I hit the pavement next to the river behind the Sonesta Hotel, just past the Museum of Science, I felt my body suddenly fall into rhythm. I picked up speed slightly and was delighted to find the movements felt comfortable, and familiar. Settling into a pace that felt difficult, but not overly strenuous, I found peace in the pattern-like motions of my arms and legs. This particular pattern, though, felt nothing like a trap, but rather like a release of all of the pent up frustration and disappointment that I felt about the last month's (lack of) running.

Maybe last night's run was merely a fluke, a random good run in the midst of horrible ones, or maybe the traps are all in my head and I've had that run in me all along, who knows. But what I do know is that after all of my moaning and groaning, the tears (yes, I cried after a particularly frustrating run), the aches and pains, the sitting inside during the blizzard, and the skipping of runs in favor of holiday fun, all it took to break me of my Pattern Trap blues was a return to my old standby river loop and the rhythm of my legs finally working in harmony with the rest of my body. So, I still lost a month of decent training... there's not much I can do about that now. I can only do my best for January and hope that my body stays strong and is ready to run at the end of the month. And as for the Pattern Trap where I have a horrible time in races whenever it's hot outside... I'm already praying for a cold front in Miami on the 25th...

I've been doing a lot more eating than running...

Let me first start this by saying that I love love love eating. I do it a lot, and I don't eat all that healthfully. Sure, I'll eat a salad every now and again, a few veggies, maybe some fruit, but I certainly would not call myself health conscious, at least as far as my eating habits go. My favorite food group is that tiny one on the top of the food pyramid that you're supposed to "eat sparingly," I believe they classify it as "Fats, Oils and Sweets." Yum. (FYI when I was looking up the name of the section of the food pyramid I found out, much to my dismay, that they have redesigned the food pyramid. The "Fats, Oils and Sweets" section isn't even on there! For this reason, I'm sticking with the old guide) Anyways, my fondness of all things bad for me makes my running hobby all the more convenient. I eat a lot of crap, but I run it off so it's a-okay (my doctor would probably hit me for saying that).

So this all brings me to the past long weekend which I spent in Chicago with my family for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving, as you could probably guess, is one of my favorite holidays because it revolves around, you guessed it, eating- especially in my family. So eat I did. And not just on Thanksgiving. All weekend long I stuffed myself full of delicious food that I would never ever cook for myself at home in Boston because it involves more work than putting it in the microwave. And then I came back to Boston and it was my birthday and I ate some more, and I threw some drinks in there too because, well, it was my birthday. All of this eating, and, aside from a great 7 mile run on Monday night, very minimal exercise. I even, in an act of sheer desperation, attempted to wake up and run before work this morning. Of course, I was too sleepy and lethargic from all of the food and wine I had last night to actually get out of bed so I just turned off my alarm and went back to sleep. And now I find myself here on Wednesday, with very few prospects of times to run or go to the gym for the rest of the week, and I feel... gross, really gross.

I'm not one to stress about being fat or skinny. I, like a lot of people, had issues with weight and body image etc. at one point in my life, but, for the most part, I'm over all of that. I owe a lot of that to running because rather than worrying about what my body looks like, I've figured out it's much more important what it feels like- whether during a run or just sitting around. When I'm training or just staying on top of my running, my body feels strong and healthy. When I'm sitting around all of the time and stuffing my face with cookies, well... it doesn't feel so hot. But, the good thing about all of this is, I have the power to change it. Sure, this week is a little crazy and there isn't a lot of time to run or exercise, but I know I'll be back on track next week and hopefully back to feeling good again. Until then, I'll just have to live with feeling a little sluggish and lazy and get a run in when I get the chance... and maybe limit my cookie intake over the next couple of days...

Happy Birthday to Me

A lot of people think that voluntarily running 26.2 miles is crazy. A lot of people think that running that far as well as committing yourself to raise $17,000 is totally insane. Nevermind how crazy it is that as a member of DFMC you not only apply to be a member of the team, but you also pay money to endure 7 months of training culminating in 4 hours of pain (aka the marathon). Granted, along with the lengthy training season and brutal race, you also get training/ injury advice from the one and only Jack Fultz, a super snazzy DFMC singlet, and the chance to spend tons of time with the coolest people around- but all of that, good and bad, doesn't come cheap. So, this year, for my birthday, which was yesterday, I asked for DFMC as my present, and my dad happily obliged (thanks Dad!) May the training season be long and frigid, the beers full and cold, and the runs and post-runs be filled with fun and laughter... this is one birthday present that's going to last me all year. Happy Birthday to me.

Going nowhere fast

There is nothing quite so frustrating as moving your legs frantically for an hour and never actually going anywhere. This has only recently occurred to me as I've spent the past week cooped up in the gym on the god-forsaken arc trainer. The truth is, before I was much of a runner, back in college, I was a total gym rat- I logged countless hours on the treadmill and the elliptical machine in Holy Cross's little, stiflingly hot gym. I just wanted to burn a few calories, I was certainly not looking to get anywhere. Little did I know just what I was missing out on...

There is a certain joy that I get from feeling my legs propel me over the ground; a certain sense of accomplishment that I get from watching the pavement escape behind me from underneath my Asics; a certain pride I get from my feet touching as many different areas of the city as possible.  As much as the arc trainer may be able to simulate for your muscles what it feels like to run, it can never simulate for your body and mind the feeling of covering ground.  I'm still following Jack's prescribed time off of running, but I would be lying if I said I was enjoying it.  Only a few more days and I'm back on the roads...

Trying to listen for once

Yesterday Jack told me that I need to take two weeks off of running to help take care of a nagging muscle strain in my left thigh. It was not what I wanted to hear. In fact, I didn't even want to talk to him about it because I knew what his solution would be. But, my muscle truly has been bothering me, so much so that yesterday after getting home from the first timer's run, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be logging some quality time on the arc trainer for the next couple of weeks. And then I woke up this morning...

I'd be lying if I said that when I woke up today, the first thing I thought to myself wasn't, "How long of a run should I do today?" The sun was slightly peaking out from behind light clouds and I could feel the unseasonably warm breeze coming through my window- the day was calling to me to get out there and run (it's funny how quickly I forget about things when I don't really want to do them). Of course, I'm not a morning runner, so, I put on my running clothes, threw on my trusty HC sweatshirt, and took my computer down to the coffee shop for some caffeine, a muffin, and some quality time with my mailing list of potential DFMC donors. After a couple of hours, I decided to head home and clean my room for a bit and then I'd head out on my run. It was noticeably colder on the short walk back up to my apartment than it had been only a couple of hours earlier. And by the time I finally felt like doing something active, it seemed that the temperature had dropped almost 15 degrees including the wind chill. It was downright freezing! I thought about my options, changed into sweatpants, tossed my shorts in a bag and headed over to the gym.

So, while my intentions were not good, I did end up following Jack's advice on the no running thing today. I put in a solid hour on the arc trainer, and I actually felt pretty good about it. While I was working out, I got to thinking about why I'm so stubborn when it comes to running. I mean, it's something that I complain about doing constantly, yet when someone tells me that I shouldn't do it, it's all I can do to keep myselt from tying my Asics up right then and there and going for a 10 mile run. I know part of my issue is that I have worked so hard to get into the running shape that I am in now that I'd hate to lose it, and somewhere in my head the ONLY way to stay in that shape is to keep on running- injured or not. Sure, I know that's not entirely true, but you try reasoning with my head.

Regardless of my crazy head though, I do recognize the importance of letting myself get better and not continuing to agitate my muscle until I make it much worse. I'm hoping that by saying here on my blog that I plan to take at least a week off of running (Jack said two I know... I'm taking baby steps here) I will feel accountable and I will actually do it. I can get some quality workouts in on the arc trainer (while trying not to go insane with boredom while I'm at it) and, hopefully sooner rather than later, my leg will be back to its good old self again and I will be back on the roads. Until then, I'll be counting the days that I'm stuck in the gym, and hoping that the weather stays unappealing enough not to tempt me to run.

First Timer's Run

Yesterday morning, I was lucky enough to go to the First Timer's Run for DFMC even though I am neither first timer, nor DFMC board member, the usual attendees of this particular run.  I remember so vividly waking up that morning last year, butterflies in my stomach, driving (and getting lost on the way) over to the Mt. Auburn Club, nervously getting out of my zipcar and meeting Shifter at the end of the parking lot wearing a Holy Cross sweatshirt, anxiously putting on my running shoes and stretching out my legs for the run ahead, running the last of the run with Shifter, then meeting all of my new teammates (Linds included) during our gathering afterwards, and then leaving with that glowing warmth inside which I have come to associate with all of our DFMC gatherings since that very first day.  I was really excited to have the opportunity to be a part of the day for the first timers this year and help to make it as special a morning for them as it was for me a year ago.  It was funny though, as I left the run yesterday, aside from the warm happy feeling that customarily comes with spending time with my DFMC teammates, I had two very distinct and very conflicting feelings. 

On the one hand, I was overcome with jealousy of the first timers- especially those who had never run a marathon before.  While it is frightening to approach marathon training unsure of whether or not your body is capable of handling the mileage and the wear and tear of the season, there is something so nice about not knowing what you are getting yourself into.  You know what they say, ignorance is bliss.  Without knowing how much a long run can hurt, or how the chills from a cold Crossroads run won't disappear for hours, or how the blisters from your running sneaks won't allow you to wear shoes for a week, you can approach your training blissfully unaware of what you are about to put your body through.  Sure, you've heard stories, but without the personal experience you never truly know what you are getting yourself into.  Clearly, I signed up again, the bad parts of training were not nearly enough to deter me from running DFMC again, but I hate to think that I will approach any part of the experience with dread or come away with feelings of disappointment.  I know that last year there were times that I dreaded a run, but that was because I was unsure that I would be able to do it.  This year, I know that I should be able to do it- it's a lot of pressure, and I think I've established how much I hate to disappoint myself (I'm repeating over and over in my head to myself right now "set goals, not expectations").  

So anyways, while on the one hand I was jealous of the first timers, on the other, I felt completely unlike the "veteran runner" that Jan introduced me as.  Sure, I did the whole thing last year, but I certainly would never put myself in the ranks of teammates like Shifter and the other vets who helped to make last year so incredible for me.  It's strange to me to think that I'll be a fundraising coach this year (did I not mention that before?  well, I'm going to be a fundraising coach), not because I don't think that I have something to offer, but, that being said, I still sometimes feel so new to DFMC.  So this is where that whole conflict comes in- I'm jealous of the people that are actually new to the team, and yet I don't quite feel so un-new to the team myself.

But, despite all of this inner conflict, more than anything I'm extremely excited to be getting back into the DFMC season.  And, with the first timers run behind me, and Thanksgiving quickly approaching, it's time for me to get back to blogging regularly, which I will be the first to admit I was somewhat lazy about doing this summer and fall.  Let the blogging/ fundraising/ training begin!

Run Jeffrey Run

There are few people in this world that I would wake up at 5 am on a Sunday and travel down to New York City just for the day for. There are even fewer people who I would do this for only to watch them run by in a speeding blur twice for mere seconds. Fellow DFMC runner, and member of the original "best carpool ever," Jeff, is one of those people. Jeff ran the NYC Marathon yesterday, and Tyler and I made the trek down to the city to surprise our fastest friend and cheer him on as he kicked major marathon-running butt (he ran a 2:47... see I told you he's fast). It was a long, but fantastic and fun day, and it was great to see Jeff after he deserted us for some dumb job in Washington, DC (kidding, sort of... the job isn't dumb, him living in DC is). It was also great to watch another big marathon being run (I've only ever seen Boston before) and inspired me to maybe (this is a big maybe) try to run a marathon in another city (in addition to Boston) at some point. Both Tyler and Jeff plan to do New York next year, so maybe I'll throw my name in the lottery next year and see what happens (I've still got several months and a Boston Marathon to run before I make any official decisions). For now, though, a huge congrats to Jeff for a fantastic race yesterday... way to do DFMC proud!!

Self Improvement

I've spent a lot of time the past couple of weeks thinking about how I'm going to train for whatever race comes next while hopefully 1) enjoying myself; and 2) not feeling like crap in the middle of the race, and I've come to a few conclusions as to how I'm going to accomplish this. Here they are:

1) Get a watch. Ever since I started this whole running thing, I have been anti-watch. At first it was because I just simply wanted to finish a marathon, I didn't need to be bogged down with the details of how long it was going to take me. And then, after I had finished the marathon and I started working on getting faster this summer, I still wasn't interested in a watch. I didn't want to become obsessed with speed and time. I just wanted to run and enjoy it, and hopefully be faster in the process. It worked at first. But the more I run, the more I realize that I have absolutely no concept of how fast I'm going. Which is just fine and dandy when running loops around the river, but not so awesome for running races. My little problem of starting too fast could be easily helped if I had a watch to tell me to slow down a bit, not to mention, if I wear a watch to train, I would actually know what too slow and too fast for me are. I realize these are things I probably should have figured out a long long time ago...

2) Have a training schedule. Running as far as you want, as fast as you want ,whenever you feel like it is fun and certainly has its merits, but there's something to be said for having some sort of plan to all of those miles. I followed a training schedule (sort of) for the marathon last year and I was in good shape for those 26 miles, I did not follow any sort of training schedule for my races this summer and, well... some of them were good, some of them were bad. Sure, not every race you train for is going to go well, but actually training for said races seems to be the first step. I think I would probably benefit from having a little structure to my training and being accountable for some runs. Of course, I'll still go on my city-wandering runs, but (and this is another place where the watch could come in handy) maybe, just maybe, having some sort of plan for mileage may be helpful.

3) Buy some new running clothes. Because everything is a little more fun in new clothes :)

4) Attitude adjusment. I have got to stop beating myself up everytime I have a bad run or race, which is easier said than done. I expect a lot of myself, and hopefully, with a little preparation, I'll be able live up to it. But all the preparation and training in the world can't prevent bad runs and disappointment from happening sometimes. So, I'm going to try to shift from expecting myself to do better to having goals for improvement. A goal is just that, a goal. Sometimes you achieve it, sometimes you don't, but in the end, if you did all you could do, you can still be proud. Sure, there will still be times when I'm disappointed in my performance, but hopefully with a little attitude adjustment I won't take it so hard and I'll be able to grow from it. Hopefully.

5) Eat healthier. By no means does this translate to "Go on a diet." But, that being said, food is fuel and this is especially true for runners. What you eat can have a huge impact on your performance. I will be the first to admit that I don't have a particularly healthy diet. I love pizza and cookies and brownies and ice cream (I tend to lean toward the sweets end of the food spectrum), but I can't help but think that perhaps my running might benefit if I included some, oh, I don't know, fruits and vegetables into my baked goods filled meals. Interestingly enough, I went to the doctor not to long ago and I told her about the muscle cramping I had had during the BAA Half, as well as the sometimes extreme fatigue I feel in my legs during runs or even just walking, and the first thing she asked me was what I eat. When I told her a typical day's meals, she asked if I took a vitamin (apparently my food intake wasn't exactly nutrient rich). So, while I am usually one to rebel against any and all advice about taking care of myself (I'm not so sure why I'm so contrary when it comes to this) I think I actually might take the good doc's advice on this one.

So, while these all seem like great ways to help me out with my running, it's really easy for me to sit here and say I'm going to do all of this stuff. The not so easy is me actually doing it all, and the jury is still out on how well I actually follow through. I am determined, though, to have my next big race (which right now looks to be the Miami Half in January) be a good one. But of course, if it's not, that attitude adjustment that I'm going to give myself sure will come in handy...

I'm a little bit country...

I spent this past weekend visiting some of my family out in the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts. For anyone that doesn't know, that means that I spent my weekend basically in the middle of nowhere. While I'm usually a city person, sometimes I desperately need to escape Boston, and a visit out to the Berkshires for some family, good food and beautiful surroundings usually does the trick. When I'm out there I typically consider it a break from all things everyday life, which includes running, but this past weekend, on a beautifully warmish-cool Saturday morning, the roads called to me and I felt obligated to answer. I chose one of the flatter roads around the area- and when I say flatter, I really mean not mountainous, because that's how most of the roads there are- and I just ran. I ran through corn fields and cow pastures, past beautiful homes and majestic mountain tops. It began to mist a bit and I couldn't help but be reminded of the race this past summer in Stowe, one of my best races all year. The scenery was remarkably similar (with the absence of all the other runners and only 5 cows, no bonus horses) and the weather felt exactly the same. And, in addition to these similarities, just like at Stowe, my legs felt like they could run forever. Perhaps this running in the country thing suits me...

Krazy gives her legs a rest from running: Day 1

Tonight, on my first day of rest from running, I went for a run. Bad idea? Maybe. But, man, did it feel great.

I don't know if this is an issue for everyone else as much as it is for me, but my mind is in constant battle with my body when it comes to running. When my body feels good, my head is elsewhere. When my head really needs a good run, my legs won't cooperate. It's only on the rare occasion that my head and my body come together, and it's on those occasions that my best runs happen. Well, tonight, my head really needed a good mind clearing run, and it pleaded with my legs to please, please cooperate... and, in a surprising turn of events, my legs happily obliged.

It was a beautiful night for a run, my ipod was on fire, and it felt as though my feet were barely touching the ground as I cruised around the river. My quad is already letting me know that running may not have been the best idea I've ever had, but the peace that I felt for that 40 or so minutes was well worth any aches and pains that I will end up suffering. It was exactly the kind of run that I've missed, and exactly what I needed to forget about Sunday's race. I can rest my legs tomorrow.

The BAA Half (I don't have it in me to come up with a witty title)

The BAA Half Marathon was this past Sunday.  It was... umm... not my best race.  On the one hand, it wasn't entirely surprising to me that it was a tough one (I didn't exactly train to run 13 miles).  So, given that, I know I should just be happy that I finished and lived to tell about it.  But the thing that did me in wasn't the distance.  I actually felt pretty okay with the 13 miles.  What kept me from coming even close to beating my last half marathon time was my own stupid legs.  Well, just one of them... the left one, the left thigh to be exact.  It cramped up on every single even marginal incline after about mile 4.  It was a hilly course.  It was not fun.  

In addition to the fact that the whole thing was extremely painful, I can't think of many things that are more frustrating than having your own body sabotage you.  When I ran Falmouth and had a bad race, I, of course, was frustrated with the fact that it didn't go well, but I also felt pretty horrible from the very beginning of the race which allowed me to adjust my goal from running for a time to simply just making it to the finish line.  The thing about the race on Sunday was that I actually felt great.  My body felt good.  My legs felt fresh.  I woke up feeling ready to run.  The weather was cool and crisp.  Everything was lined up for me to have a good day.  And for the first four miles, I did.  And then, somewhere during mile 4 or so, on the slightest of inclines, what seemed to be all of the muscles in my left thigh seized up simultaneously into one big, painful, impossible to ignore knot.  I walked for a few steps, allowed the cramp to release, and continued on my way, a little shaken up, but still feeling ok.  I approached the next hill and started up, and my leg cramped up again.  And that's when I knew it was going to be a long race.  But, unlike at Falmouth, other than my left leg, I still felt remarkably good which made it hard for me to adjust.

So, the race wasn't great.  I was pretty unhappy with myself by the time I finally finished.  Though I hadn't really trained for the distance, I had worked hard all summer to get faster and stronger and when the time came to put all of that hard work to use, my body failed me.  It was the ultimate disappointment.

I've spent the past two days thinking about the race... I've had bad races and bad runs before, but for some reason this one has really stuck with me.  Maybe it's because this is one of the first times that I've had a running goal that was ambitious, but I also felt like was really within my reach.  I know I could have beaten my previous half marathon time.  I just know that I had that in me.  I felt like I have gotten to be a better runner over this summer and I think that I wanted the half marathon to be my proof of that.  And while I know somewhere inside me that's it's only one race, and bad races happen, and one bad race doesn't negate all of the work that I've done to improve my running, in the aftermath of a disappointing race, it's been hard to convince myself that that's all true.

Needless to say, I'm a bit disenchanted with running right now.  Maybe I should take a break from it.  In fact, that was my original plan.  Once the half was over I was going to find something other than running to do for a bit, give my legs a rest for a few weeks, give myself a chance to miss running so maybe it wouldn't seem like such a chore.  It seemed like a great idea... well, until the half was actually over and I was faced with the reality that I had just imposed a break on myself from the thing that has enhanced my life in more ways than I can even count.  I had finally accepted the fact that I have, indeed, become a runner... if I'm not running, what am I going to do?? 

That being said, I do think I owe my legs a break, which I will give them.  My leg muscle cramping I'm sure was a cry for rest from my overworked legs.  But, aside from that little break, I'm going to keep running... not for speed or miles or time or any goal, but just for fun, to clear my head, to get outside and enjoy the fall in Boston- the reasons I used to go for a run, and why I started to enjoy doing it in the first place.  I think once running is fun for me again, I'll be able to get back into training and trying to improve again.  I do know that I've become a better runner already, and I know that the half marathon this weekend is not the be all and end all indicator of how far I've come (or not come) as a runner.  

If anything, the half actually has shown me how far I've come as a person.  A year ago, I, first of all, would not have dreamed of running 13 miles, but, more importantly, I would have mercilessly punished myself for the race that I ran on Sunday- mentally and physically.  Yes, I'm disappointed in my race, and yes, I've thought a lot about it the past couple of days, but the difference is I haven't been analyzing what went wrong during the race in order to punish myself, I have been thinking about my race in order to figure out how I can use it to be better- and not just better at running, but better at handling my disappointment and turning it into something positive.  That is something that my former, non-running self would have never even considered.

So, in the end, no, the BAA Half was not all that I dreamed that it would be, it was not the race I had wanted to run, and I certainly would not want to relive it.  But, despite my initial feelings of disappointment in my run, I'm not disappointed in myself.  I had a hard run but I finished the race.  I have tried to get everything positive out of the experience that I can (and written the longest blog entry ever in the process... sorry) and now I'm moving on.  Marathon training isn't too far off...

Here we go again...

Woohoo! I am a DFMC team member again. Yes, that's right, I now have the opportunity to spend countless hours running the Newton hills on cold, dark Thursday nights, to wake up at the crack of dawn on a frigid Saturday morning in January to run 15 miles, to spend my weekend afternoons crafting and editing fundraising emails, to run around in endless circles at the Tufts indoor track, and, at the end of it all, run 26.2 hilly miles into Boston. Yay!!

Receiving my acceptance via email this year was decidedly less exciting than last. Last year, I distinctly remember coming home from work, dropping my gigantic bag on the floor of my bedroom, tossing my jacket on my bed and walking over to my computer to check my email, expecting to have nothing more than a few emails from Banana Republic and JCrew touting whatever sale they happened to be having that week. I had given up on my application to DFMC the week before. Stopped running (not that I had been running a lot to begin with, but it had been a start), stopped expectantly checking my email, started thinking of other things that I could do for the winter. But then, there it was, "Lauren Krzynowek, welcome to the Dana-Farber 2008 Marathon Challenge 2008 invitational roster!" I remember laughing, and dancing around my apartment, calling my dad, and running upstairs to tell my neighbors (Ashley wasn't home, so I needed to tell someone). No one could believe that I had actually applied to run a marathon... in fact, they couldn't even believe that I had any desire to run a marathon in the first place. Regardless of their doubts, I was beyond excited.

Looking back, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. No idea. I've said it a million times, the DFMC experience is life changing. But on that day, when I received that email, I thought I was just going to do a little bit more running for the next few months... how wrong I was. I was in for a lot of hard work, a lot of tired mornings, a lot of frustration, and a lot of tears. Not to mention a lot of laughter, a lot of beers, a lot of smiles and a LOT of great friends.

This year, my acceptance email from the DFMC office didn't quite provoke any dance moves, but that's certainly not to say that I'm not excited. Quite the contrary, actually. I have been looking forward to the DFMC season starting up again since I was forced (by social conventions) to take off my shiny, new, blue and yellow medal and return to life as normal on April 22. I recognize that, from the outside, it seems a bit crazy to apply to do all of the hard work (running and otherwise) that DFMC requires, and it probably seems even crazier to apply to do it all a second time, knowing what is in store for me, but I loved every minute of my DFMC experience last year. And while I, of course, am dreading certain things that I didn't know any better than to be excited for last year (20 milers, cold mornings, track workouts), I'm excited to experience all of these things now as a DFMC veteran. So, bring on the training season, DFMC! Bring on the cold butts and the peanut m&m's and the running in circles and the runner's meetings and the hills! It's good to be back...

Speed is relative... and I'm relatively faster

A wise man named Jack Fultz once told me that speed is relative. I, being not so wise, laughed at this, thinking it merely a ploy to make slower runners like me feel not so crappy about their not so speedy running capabilities. Well, maybe it is a ploy, but, regardless, I took it upon myself this summer to become relatively faster, and, believe it or not, it sort of worked! And, something I learned about being relatively faster is that running becomes relatively more fun the faster you get. Yes, you read that right, I said running was fun. I ran a race this past Thursday night and it was actually fun. And I don't just mean the after party was fun (that's a given). I mean the bobbing and weaving, heavy breathing, sweaty, heart pounding, legs screaming, "left foot, right foot, repeat," act of running was FUN! Yes, dear readers, it has finally happened, I believe I have officially lost my mind.

This past Thursday was the last in a 5 part race series on the Charles River. One Thursday a month for the duration of the summer, runners gathered at the Marsh Post near the Elliot Bridge in Cambridge, and ran in a big, overcrowded, clump for 4.2 miles around the river until reaching their final destination... free beer. The races were something I really looked forward to each month. A great chance to get a run in, and then hang out with friends, listen to a cover band, and drink some Harpoon underneath a starry sky. All summer I have used these runs as a sort of gauge for my progress on "Project Run Faster" (I just decided that's what I'm going to call my quest for speed). Each race, I made it my goal to cut just a little bit off of my time from the previous race. Overall, I was pretty successful at doing this, though some races were more difficult than others.

This last race, I had the pleasure of running with Tyler (no, I didn't get THAT much faster... he was taking this one easy because he had another race the next day). As we ran through the inevitable clusterfuck at the beginning of the race, I was feeling pretty good. The air was cool and clear, my favorite weather to run in, and my legs were feeling very energetic. While I normally feel anxious for the first mile or so of a race- even these small, familiar races- this time I felt calm and relaxed. We joked around, Tyler made monkey noises and quacked at the ducks, and during parts of the run when I could feel my legs start to get a little bit tired, I turned my concentration towards whatever it was that Tyler and I were talking about and just kept running. As we made the last turn, just before the final mile of the race, Tyler asked me, "Ok Krazy, what do you have left for the last mile?" which I knew meant that I was supposed to turn up the speed, but at that moment, I wasn't quite sure that my legs had anything left in them. "I'll let you know in a minute," I responded back, hoping that maybe by the time a minute went by either I would be a little less tired or he would have forgotten that he asked in the first place. After a minute, maybe a little more, I decided that, this being the last race of the summer, I was going to finish with everything that I had left. I picked up the pace a little and heard Tyler just behind me, encouraging me to pass people. You know in the movie Seabiscuit, the one about the race horse, how all it takes for Seabiscuit to kick butt in a race is for him to see the eyes of the horse that he is running against, and then he just takes off. Well, that's sort of how I felt on Thursday. After I passed one person in that final mile, that was really all I needed to forget the heavy feeling in my legs, and I ran as fast as I could through to the finish. When I got to the finish line, I was more than surprised to see that the clock said 37:25. 37 minutes, 25 seconds, which I quickly realized in my head meant that I had done two (relatively) incredible things : 1) I had run under 9 minute miles, and 2) I had run 2 minutes faster in this race than I had in the last one. (HUGE thanks to Tyler for making me run (relatively) fast... I wouldn't have done it myself). And the most miraculous part of it all is that, despite feeling tired, I had fun the whole time, and finished with a smile. (another huge thanks to Ty for that one too)

So maybe it's not that running relatively faster makes it more fun... maybe it's that all the fun people are fast, so when you can finally keep up with them (or can convince them to run relatively slower with you), running is a whole lot more enjoyable. Whatever it is, my final summer race was all I could have ever asked for it to be. Next up- I look to continue the success of "Project Run Faster" at the BAA Half Marathon in October... I'm pretty sure Tyler's not going to be willing to run this one with me, so I'm going to have to figure out a way to entertain myself for 13 miles... or find someone else who will make monkey noises during the race...