The Desert Classic

I just finished a little 5K put on by the Arizona Road Racers as part of the Desert Classic series.


We’ve done this race three years in a row, but usually I do the 30K race (which Bill is running at this very moment). Today as I stood at the starting line with all the other runners hopping and stretching in anticipation of the horn, I felt sorry for myself. Only two weeks off of my last marathon (which, as noted in an earlier entry, was VERY tough for me) , and having made the decision that I need to lay off the long races for a while to let my foot heal, I felt left out of the “real” runners’ club this morning. Boo hoo for me.


Then the horn sounded. I picked up what I thought would be a good pace for myself and heard my right foot scream at me. I told her not to worry, that this would only take a half hour. She quieted down a little after the first mile and we managed the rest of the race in relative peace.


About two and a half miles in, I ran past a young girl of around eleven. I’d seen her start the race with her dad, but he’d run ahead by this point and she was alone on the course, crying. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw her tears. How many times have I cried in the last miles of a race? Even as recently as two weeks ago I did so.


“Honey, it’s gonna be okay,” I said. “Just keep putting one foot in front of another and keep your eye on the person in front of you. You won’t get lost and you’ll make it over the finish line. I promise!”


She nodded at me but didn’t say anything (she’s probably been taught not to talk to strangers).


As I ran on, I found myself feeling mad at her dad for leaving her back there alone, and I resolved that if he didn’t turn around at the finish line and go back to her, I would go back. But when I crossed the finish line (at thirty-three minutes, according to the time clock), she was there right behind me. And her dad was waiting for her with his arms open.


Yes. Yes, I know that every runner’s race is her own and that “dad” probably did the right thing by letting her figure out her pace and work it out. She was safe, she was close to the end when he ran ahead, and he was there for her when it was over. I know all of this; I just keep forgetting. I keep forgetting that the struggle is INSIDE – that being “real” is about listening to your body and not about putting in as many miles as the other guy. It’s about being authentic and not about being tougher than your (husband, friend, rival, dad, etc.).


So, I’m back at my water running tomorrow. And I’m sending good thoughts to the little girl whose first 5K ended with a few tears and a big hug from her dad.

Whew! Ow! And, what a day!

Well, the long awaited for and worried about (by me, at least) Las Vegas Rock n Roll Marathon has been completed. Julie and I arrived at our corral at about 6:30am and waited around for the gun. I think we finally started at 7:20-ish. And, naturally, we had two completely different experiences of the same day.

I asked Julie to write a blurb about her experience. Here's what she said: " I did it! My third marathon was accomplished with a few verbal whimpers and many whimpering thoughts. I finished in good time for me, but it was tough. This running thing gives you time to ponder many a thing. Today I was feeling surprised by the shapes, sizes and ages of the runners. I was passed by many people older and larger - people I thought I should beat. I'm also amazed at the different styles of running. It is amazing to me that we, as a people, are made up of the same number of chromosomes, and that they go together in such different ways.

"One of my running slogans is, 'Pain is temporary; pride is forever!' That thought is a valid one, but sometimes I still doubt my ability to do a marathon. Crazy, huh? Three done (I am proud of this), but it is sort of hard even now to believe I really do run marathons."I know two things: If I can run a marathon, anyone can (if they choose to), and I really am proud of my physical, mental and emotional toughness. I did it!"

It might be helpful to know that Julie used to carry a lot of extra weight and running has helped her lose it. She's still in awe of her ability to pull off the marathon distance. She's also a labor and delivery nurse, so she holds little bundles of chromosomes in her arms every day, wondering who they will turn out to be - and what their running stride will look like someday.

Today, for me, was not so full of wonderment about the uniqueness of every human being - not so philosophical, you might say. Here's how it went down for me: The first six miles were strong, but stressful. Julie and I ran hard because we had deadlines to meet in order to be allowed to continue in the race. Since I've been primarily water running and riding the stationary bike at Gold's Gym (instead of training on the cold, hard ground), my (very insufficient) "training," didn't really prepare me for today. By mile nine, my quads hurt like heck, my foot was aching and I was CRABBY.

Poor Julie, who is extremely cheerful and positive, as a rule, got the brunt of my poor attitude. At about mile 15, I had to asked her to stop saying, "We can do it. Only (fill in the blank) miles to go!" She swears I didn't hurt her feelings with my request, but we did mutually decide to finish separately within another mile.

I ran alone with my bad self for four more miles - fighting for every single step and feeling guilty for being bad company, not even enjoying the running Elvises and frowning at the sweet Jr. High Cheerleaders who yelled, "Keep on truckin' all the way," at me every few miles. All this distance, I vacillated between crying and silently reciting the Buddhist Lovingkindness Meditation to calm myself down (panicked as I was that I would have to hitch a ride to the finish line).

At mile 20, a fellow who had been tracking right beside me, dared to speak to me. George turned out to be exactly what I needed. Just my age, George is a high school English teacher in Las Vegas whose main goal was to beat his last marathon time (6:20). He asked me how I was doing and I confessed I wasn't doing well. George very authoritatively said, "Well, let's not talk about that. Let's just talk." And so I set my Gym Boss to one minute of walking and two minutes of running and we talked: about my running on the continents, about the kids in his classes, about my experience as an English teacher years ago, about his two children. And the time passed - not quickly, not easily and not without pain. But it passed.

And I finished. I think my time was 5:39 - the longest it has ever taken me to run a marathon.

I think the moral of the story is that I need to take some time to heal my foot and then to get (gently) back onto the trails and remember my love of breathing without a finish line to reach for.

But until then: Thanks to Julie for being so gracious with my crabby mood and to George for being the right companion at the right time. And thanks, once again, to the marathon for teaching me what I need to know about myself - even if it's that we need to take a break from one another for a little while.

Oh, and thanks to Bill and all of my friends for your encouragement and continued interest in my running pursuits.

In the Morning!

The starting gun is eleven hours from now. This afternoon Julie and I walked from the Luxor (where we’re staying) to the parking lot at Mandalay Bay (where the race starts) to get a sense of how much time we’ll need in the morning to get to corral 19. It takes fifteen minutes. That’s it. So we’ll get up, drink our coffee, get dressed and station ourselves at the starting line – all before our friends and families are out of bed.

We’ve had a lot of fun since we arrived on Wednesday evening. Thursday we walked the strip, stopping in to look at some of the more interesting casinos whenever we felt inclined. Friday, we spent a couple of hours at the race expo where, at 3:00, I finally got to meet Marie Bean. Readers might remember my e-pen friend, Marie. We “met” after the Rio de Janeiro race when she found my blog and reached out to me asking how I planned to get to Antarctica. She had planned on coming with Bill, Marina and me to Antarctica earlier this year, but had to change her plans in the end. What fun to finally meet her (and for more fun, check out her running business in Australia: Lazyrunner.com).

Today I crashed. For some reason I didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours on both Wednesday and Thursday nights. Last night (Friday), I took some sleeping aid and then felt like I wandered through today in a haze. So I spent most of today in the hotel room reading, catching up on Glee episodes and worrying about my foot (which I just wrapped according to Jason Gully’s specifications, hoping to give it some extra support tomorrow).

As I understand it, while the race starts at 7:00 am, each corral waits for a minute or two until it gets the go-ahead. Julie and I should actually start running anytime between 7:19 and 7:38. We’ve been told we have to make it to the 12.6-mile point by 10:15 in order to get the go-ahead to complete the full marathon (rather than be re-directed to do only the half). Even if we start at the latest possible time for our corral (7:38), this gives us 2 hours and 37 minutes to get to 12.6 (are you following?). We should be fine. The pain in my foot and the perpetual pain in Julie’s knee shouldn’t become acute until the second half of the race. The Las Vegas Marathon shuts down The Strip, so the race is only allowing 5.5 hours for participants to complete the full marathon, and I have to admit to a little concern about this. My last two races (Anchorage and Portland) have brought me in around 5:35. But Julie and I feel optimistic that we can pull it off with the help of the energy of the other twenty thousand runners and the bands stationed all along the route.

Watch our progress through the Rock n Roll website. I’m number 22435 and Julie is number 21240

Vegas!

Well, my running partner, Julie, and I flew to Las Vegas on Wednesday evening and settled into the Luxor without a hitch. Today we walked "the strip" and plugged the occasional slot machine with a dollar (or five).

Vegas is kind of a special place to me, even as it fills my introvert's heart with over-stimulated exhaustion and makes me long for a good book and hot chocolate by a fire. I've been coming to Vegas in December for years. I used to come with my ex-husband to see his sister (who lived here) during the holidays. Then in recent years, Bill and I have flown in to Las Vegas, rented a car and driven to Phoenix many times over the last decade. It's always festive and full of energy and, most of all, hopeful.

But this is the first time I've been in Sin City for a marathon. Today as I walked down the strip, I was thinking about how it will feel to run along the boulevard on Sunday. The race starts right here - with all the lights and noise and chaos. And since this is a Rock n Roll Marathon, there will be music and entertainment along the way - at almost every mile.

Needless to say, I'm excited. I've still got some pain in my heel (which is discouraging), but I'm prepared to put mind over matter. The course is only open for five and a half hours, which means Julie and I have to run a smart race this time.

I"m number 22435. Watch for my results Sunday afternoon.

My "Thankful" List. What are you thankful for?

If anyone has reason to be thankful, it is I. It’s true that now is my least favorite year (barren trees, freezing temperatures and snow as I write!), and it’s true that I’ve exchanged time on my beloved Bellingham trails for the stationary bike and water running while I let my foot heal, BUT still… what a life I have. I live in a great community with a loving man and two flat nosed little dogs who think I’m the cat’s meow. I have the most stellar set of friends any woman has ever had. And this year, I not only finished my quest to hit the ground running on every continent, but I lived out a dream to complete and publish a book!

So even as I lament having to exercise my body inside of buildings instead of outside in the elements (as unaccommodating as they have been this week), I have to put my thankfulness firmly out into the universe. Here is a list of what I’m thankful for today – from the basic to the minute:

* A warm home, enough food and a clean bed – not everyone has this, you know
* The luck to live in a country where I, as a woman, have rights and many, many choices in my life – not everyone has this, either
* Every person who has cheered me in a race, shown up at a reading or commented on my blog – I needed you and you were there – thank you
* Every glass of good red wine I have ever tasted, but especially those made in Washington State
* Sports bras
* Hair coloring
* Arizona in the winter
* Books – and publishers (especially Seal Press!)
* Cheese
* A healthy body, my current struggle notwithstanding
* My partner, Bill, who daily lives up to his promise to stay in the fray with me, even when it is less than pleasant.

What does your list look like? Have a great weekend as you think about it.

Holiday Gift Ideas

Well, the holidays are upon us, once again. Thursday is Thanksgiving! One of the things I love about being a runner is guilt-free eating. So, first of all, happy Turkey day, and may you find a multitude of things to be grateful about.

Admittedly, I’ve not been on the trails lately because of the plantar fasciitis I’ve been fighting and have, thus, been “water running” (which isn’t really running at all) and peddling on the stationary bike at the gym. Still, my runner’s heart is out there with all of you.

I’m making my holiday gift list just as you are, too.

So I’d like to offer my top 6 ideas for the runner in your life – particularly the back-of-the-pack runner who spends more than the average number of hours on the course.
1. Present a piece of Tarma running jewelry to her to show your support. Last year Bill have me a necklace with a pendant of a running girl inside of circle (looks like a peace sign), and I’ve gotten countless compliments on it.

2. Put a box of her favorite energy gel in her stocking. These nasty tasting, but absolutely essential running supplies are not expensive, but they can add up. There’s nothing worse than getting ready for a long run and discovering that you’re out of café latte or red raspberry gel. Get her a month’s supply. Remember, she needs approximately one gel packet for every hour of running.

3. For the compassionate minded runner in your life, take the “26.2 Challenge” by donating to the Hall Steps Foundation. With a $26.00 donation you can help Olympian marathoner, Ryan Hall, and his wife, Sara, bring clean water to the world. My husband, Bill, recently went to hear Ryan and Sara speak and this year, we’re donating.

4. Alternatively, if you’re inclined to give a donation in your runner’s name, consider contributing to Girls on the Run, an amazing international organization that promotes self-respect and healthy living for elementary school age girls. I volunteered to be a running buddy with the local group a few years ago, and now I’m sold on them. They do GREAT work!

5. Give an iTunes gift card to keep your favorite runner in hours of hoppin’, inspiring music. And if she doesn’t have an iPod Shuffle, why not spring for that, too?

6. Last (for now) but not least, don’t forget to give your favorite runner a copy of Second Wind: One Woman’s Midlife Quest to Run Seven Marathons on Seven Continents by yours truly. I’m a slow poke marathoner who has experienced the life-changing power of the marathon as a metaphor for all of life. She’ll appreciate being encouraged by my story and my admiration for all runners, no matter their pace.

So this is a start. Don’t be shy, add to my list and I’ll update it over the next month to give you more ideas. Have a great week.

Three Cheers for the NYC Marathon Winners!

Yesterday I watched the televised (and delayed) coverage of the New York City Marathon. What I love about watching the NYC Marathon on TV is that you get to see ALL the action. A split screen keeps the viewer up to the minute on leaders in both the men’s and the women’s races, and then every so often the video cuts to the average runners, the folks like you and me. I was struck again this year at how the front runners look like they’re breezing along with hardly any effort (at under 5 minutes a mile), while the other bazillion participants look like their fighting hard for every step, especially near the finish.

I’m not a big fan of televised sports – never have been. I don’t even watch the Super Bowl for the half-time show; I go to the movies that day. But running is different, of course, because of I’m one of them. This year I actually found myself yelling at the TV. As you may remember, I met Meb Keflezighi, American marathoner, earlier this year after the Seattle Rock N Roll Half Marathon. He autographed my race number and congratulated me on finishing my goal to run the marathon distance on all seven continents. Naturally, I was cheering for him as the leaders in the men’s race sped through the course. At a certain moment, though, long after the midpoint yesterday, Meb grimaced and there was a sudden change in his gait. He wasn’t limping, exactly, just not sailing anymore, and he dropped toward the back of the front – if that makes sense. He ended up coming in sixth at 2:11:38. The winner is a fellow from Ethiopia who was running his first marathon! Gebre Gebrmariam came in at 2:08:14. I can’t even drive to Seattle in that time on a busy Friday afternoon. Congrats to Gebre.

Also running her first marathon, was Shalane Flanagan from Boulder, Colorado. I found myself screaming at the television, “Come on Shalane! You can do it,” when she slipped back to third place late in the race. Edna Kiplagat from Kenya had pulled ahead and was clearly going to win the race but Shalane and Mary Keitany (Kenya) were battling it out for second. Nothing against Mary, mind you, but to be running her first marathon and coming so close to winning, Shalane just HAD to come in second, from my point of view. And she did. She pulled ahead of Mary and came in at 2:28:40, 20 seconds behind Edna and 21 seconds in front of Mary. Yay for Shalane!!!

The great runners I watched on TV yesterday are like gods and goddesses to me. They’re freaks of nature who add a whole hell of a lot of training to their already perfect physiques and make their bodies perform miracles. Far from discouraging me, watching their magic inspires me. I want to breathe the same air and run the same courses they run – and it doesn’t matter to me how far behind them I come in. I can see in their strides what human beings can do when all the circumstances and motivation align.