Running away from home

As I look back on my year of running, some of my fondest memories were of running away from home. No, not fleeing the confines of Stately Wasser Manor, but rather enjoying a nice run while traveling for work.

When I'm traveling for work, I am completely away from my normal life. When I get up in the morning, I don't have a cup of coffee with Steve, make Jack his morning strawberry milk, and get him ready for school. Instead, I wake up and pretty much get to work, then do the same all day, then at night until I decide to get to sleep.

I forget that other people are not existing out of time like I am. I'll sit at the desk, impatiently wondering why no one has answered my emails, only to remember that it's only 8:00, most people have not been working for the past hour and a half, and that they are, in fact, trying to get ready for work.

I have learned that when I'm away from home, I always need to bring my running shoes and I always need to go for a run.

Those early morning jaunts have been terrific adventures. I wandered through a neighborhood in Charlotte, lined by honeysuckle bushes, and two little girls waiting for the school bus ran with me for a little while. I found trails around beautiful frozen lakes outside Minneapolis. In San Antonio, I zipped along the cobblestone paths of River Walk and watched the sun rise at the Alamo. I spent another morning with Lake Michigan to one side, the skyline of Chicago looming large in front of me. My favorite travel run was in Seattle, where I ran through memories of the summer I lived there with Steve, the summer we fell in love.

Running while on the road connects me with the city where I'm staying in a way that eating breakfast at the hotel and going to and from whatever project I'm working on does not. More importantly, it keeps me connected to who I am. When I'm away from home, I have to keep running.

The Fab Four

Back when Jack was just two years old, we went to a birthday party for a little boy who was turning four. This other little boy was quiet and solemn, a huge contrast to the zany little bundle of energy that was my kid. I watched the other boy calmly unwrap his birthday gifts and eat a modest amount of cake and dreaded the prospect of Jack turning four. My cute, funny, entertaining little guy wouldn’t be so cute anymore.

This year has proven to me that I was wrong. That other kid was just weird. Jack’s fourth year has been fantastic.

Our family went through a lot of changes this year. I lost my job in January, which enabled us to spend a lot of time together, in the Mommy-Jack Academy. We went to dance classes and acted silly, we put on plays with his tigers, baked cookies, and had a great time. When I went back to work, he and I missed our time together, but it felt like things were a bit more back to normal… except that they weren’t, because all of a sudden, I had a job that required me to travel pretty frequently. And at around the same time, Steve also had to do more travel for his job. Jack has adapted really well. We keep a calendar in his room and mark when Mommy or Daddy is coming home. Sometimes he gets a present after one of us has been on a trip, but more often, we go out for a special breakfast to spend more time together.

Jack absolutely loves his preschool, especially the main teacher Miss Toya. Miss Toya has helped Jack improve his writing, so he will surprise me by pulling out a crayon and writing WASSER on a piece of paper. She teaches the kids to say “yes” instead of “yeah,” and it sounds so much nicer that Steve and I have adopted the same habit. The kids in Jack’s class put on a circus this spring at which Jack was an acrobat. She even showed up at one of his soccer games.

Jack has an incredible curiosity about words and language. When we go to the library, he loads up the bag with all kinds of reading material – picture books, non-fiction materials about animals, and now chapter books. His favorites are the Magic Treehouse series, about a boy named Jack who travels through time. Jack will sit and listen to me read for as long as I’m willing. He has also started noticing words everywhere and will ask, “What does ‘O-P-E-N’ spell?”

We have done some fun traveling together as a family this year. In June, we took a weekend trip to Chicago, Jack’s first big city. He was fascinated by the tall buildings, the pigeons, the noise of the El track, and the fact that he was allowed to go in a taxi without his car seat. Our big vacation was to the Wisconsin Dells and the Great Wolf Lodge. Jack had a blast playing in the many swimming pools and going down water slides.

The little guy has had a few dark moments. He got in the most trouble of his entire life when, mad at me, he used his scissors to cut a small hole in the back of one of our living room chairs. And when I tell him to apologize for things – “you don’t have to mean it, you just have to say it” – he steadfastly refuses.

At the same time, he’s sweet and affectionate. He was eager to help his three-year-old cousin play hide and seek with the big kids at Thanksgiving. Jack gives lots of love to Roary and his fleet of “stuffed guys,” telling them, “It’s okay, Sweetie,” if they are sad. And when I started to cry during the movie Up Jack reached over and held my hand.

He also loves to make people laugh. He will tell jokes over and over again, figuring that the knock-knock joke about the interrupting cow will only be funnier the 900th time you hear it. He is even a fan of physical comedy, pretending to walk into walls, then laughing like a loon.

Year Four has been wonderful. Jack does or says something every single day that makes me proud of him. When I look ahead to Jack’s fifth year, I have no fear. My little guy will still be my clever, funny, sunny little guy.

Happy birthday, Jack!

2009 report card

At the end of last year, I posted some running goals for myself. How’d I do?

1. Run at least two half marathons triskos. Set new trisko PR of 2 hours or less (down from 2:05).

Goal OBLITERATED! I ran four half marathons in 2009, three of them in a 29 day period, earning me a spot in the Half Fanatics. Of those four triskos, the first was the best, with a finishing time of 1:56:51. Boo-yah!


2. Run at least one marathon, setting a PR of 4:30 or less (down from 4:38).

Goal FAILED! As awesome as I was at Goal #1, the second was not meant to be. I started a new job in February, which requires frequent travel. I do run while I’m on the road, but when I’m home on weekends, I don’t want to ditch Steve and Jack to go run 20 miles. I’m sure I’ll tackle the marathon again some day, but at this point, I’m not called to it. The half marathon is my favorite distance, not only because it suits my lifestyle, but because I feel like I can more successfully race it, not just survive it.


3. Get a Fuel Belt and a Road ID. That should be easy enough, but they are important things to do nevertheless.

Goal accomplished, and I’m glad I did. The Fuel Belt has given me the freedom to explore a bit more on my long runs, to go further afield of my house and the bottle of Gatorade that was always waiting at the end of my driveway. And that’s been great. And because I have been running while travelling, the Road ID gives me a little bit more peace of mind.


4. Run at least three new races.

Betsy SMASH puny race goal! In 2009, I ran 13 new races: an indoor track meet (one event, three races, so I am counting it as three), the Frostbite Footrace, the St. Patrick’s Day 5K, Steve’s Old Time Tap Chaser 5K, Imagination Library 5K, the Madison Half Marathon, 13.1 Chicago, an outdoor track meet (one race), Run With Carl, the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and the Governor’s Cross Country two-mile. I do have to travel for my new job, but the wellness program sponsors 50% of my entry fees to local races, thus making it very appealing to check out new things.



5. Here's the big one: get more involved in running locally. I love my online running friends, but I also want to make some real life running friends. To that end, I am working to participate more in my local running club. I am also planning on joining the group track workouts on Tuesday nights, and anything else I can think of. I want to go to races and see people I know.

Done and done! I’ve been going to club meetings, joined training groups for the Quad Cities Distance Classic and the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and volunteered for a couple of races while I was injured, just to stay in touch. And it’s worked!

Thanks to a combination of goal 4 and goal 5, I got second place in my age group in my running club’s 2009 circuit. Fellow Runner JP gave me my t-shirt and medal, insisted on getting his picture taken with “my favorite age group, women from 30-39,” then later told me that he was really glad I’d come out and done so much running this year. I really feel like I’m part of something bigger, and it’s great.

I’m mulling over 2010 goals now, but in the meantime, I’m happy with how well 2009 has turned out.

Half Crazy? Half Fanatic!

When I tell people that I ran four half marathons this year, three of them in a 29 day period, they think I’m (at least) half crazy. Thanks to a fellow Betsy over at Eat Drink Run Woman, I’ve learned that I’m not just half crazy… I’m a Half Fanatic!

That’s right, those nutbars over at Marathon Maniacs have a little sister club devoted to my favorite distance, the half marathon! And thanks to my running streak this spring, I qualify as a Neptune-level Fanatic, #249, to be specific.

I encourage my fellow trisko enthusiasts to join up so that we have more brothers and sisters in blue at upcoming races.

Run, Run, Rudolph

It’s definitely cold outside her in the tundra known as the Midwest, but I refuse to let that keep me from getting a run in. Naturally, I’m not going to do anything extreme and foolish like run on a treadmill. Much better to cover myself in layers and layers of clothes, yank some Stabilicers over my shoes, and suck it up.

Last night, I was reminded of another benefit to running out in the cold: Christmas lights!

I meandered all through my neighborhood, running down unfamiliar streets, and enjoying the beauty of houses all lit up for Christmas. I like driving around looking at lights, but this was even nicer than a quick drive-by.

As runners, we see a world that non-runners don’t. This is just one of many examples.

The Circuit

One of my 2009 goals was to get more involved in my local running community. So, when I saw in our club newsletter that you could compete in something called the "race circuit," and that it was free, I figured why not?

Here's how the circuit works:

• Run a 4Km to 4Mi you will earn 10 pts. for participating.


• Run a 8Km to Half Marathon you will earn 15 pts. for participating.


• Run a Marathon or greater distance you will earn 20 pts. for participating.


• Run in a Duathlon you will earn 15pts. for participating.


• Run a Relay Leg or part of a Duathlon Team you will earn 10 pts for participating


• Volunteer for any event on the circuit and not run in it you will earn 10 pts.


• Participate in CBRC Club Races you can earn double points.


• Tie-Breakers will be determined by the most volunteer points.

I ran a lot of races this year, but not all of them were on our "circuit." I kept track casually of how I was doing, but didn't think about it too much. It turns out, I ran enough races to count - at our club meeting last night, I got second place in the women 30-39 group! And for my efforts, I scored a medal with our club's logo on it, and even better, a t-shirt! A red t-shirt, with all of the races listed on the back - in a technical fabric! I cannot wait to wear it out for a run.

Last race of 2009

I often find myself grateful that I'm a runner. That feeling was especially strong last week, when I ran my last race of 2009.

Especially because that race wasn't an actual sanctioned race, but more accurately, a race through the airport.

I'd just finished a challenging, but hopefully productive trip to New Jersey for work and was eager to get home. The meeting ran over, so I missed my first flight and got booked on a different airline. The flight from Newark to Chicago was delayed... and delayed... and delayed.

Slowly but surely, that 45 minute layover evaporated.

The pilot announced that many flights leaving Chicago were also delayed, so "All bets are off." As soon as we landed, I checked the flight to Moline on my phone and saw that, sure enough, it was delayed, too.

I had a chance.

I got off the plane as quickly as possible, groaned when I saw that I needed to get to a far away concourse, and started running.

I ran through Ohare airport in a long skirt, tall boots, and pearls, with my heavy laptop bag on my back. I ran past legions of amused looking travelers, along moving walkways, and up escalators.

All told, I ran a distance of probably a mile. It was really hard racing in my high heeled boots (feeling a rip in my stockings) with my zillion pound computer, and there was certainly no guarantee I'd make it before they closed the doors. I wanted to stop and walk, to just give up.

But because I'm a runner, I can do more than just physically move myself from Point A to Point B quickly. More importantly, I know how to keep going even when I want to quit. I know how to motivate myself and push through. I thought of Steve and Jack and how if I kept running, then maybe I'd see them that night, but that if I quit, I definitely would not.

You know how this story ends: I made it. I made it because I'm a runner.

Race Report: Hawk Hustle

Saturday marked the third time I've run the Hawk Hustle. Every time it's happened, things haven't gone quite according to plan.

The first year, I hadn't planned to run a race at all that day. I signed up spontaneously and had a great time... but the hills kicked my butt.

The second year, I slacked off on my training and suffered for it. Despite a tough race, I came home with a second place trophy for my age group and promised myself that in year three, I'd be prepared.

That brings us to that third year. Thanks to the injury in my shin, I was lucky to be able to run at all, much less train hard on hills and rock it out like I'd planned to.

Still, I took the line feeling excited. I had a new plan: run a smart, tough race. Four miles would be the longest I'd run since my ill-fated half marathon trisko. Knowing how challenging and hilly the course was, I planned to make judicious use of walk breaks. Short steep hills I'd tackle; long slow slopes would be broken up with walks. My finishing time? Irrelevant. I just wanted to get through the race.

Ready? Go!

The first mile featured a few giant downhills, which I used to build up momentum and zip up some uphills. It was one of the easier miles of the course, so I ran the whole thing in a surprisingly fast 9:05.

Shortly after the first mile marker was one of those gradual uphills. I did a brisk walk in the middle for 9:36. It must have been a short break.

By the third mile, the course was getting tougher and I was getting more tired. A couple of walk breaks slowed me to 10:06.

Mile four is the toughest of the course and was also my slowest at 10:15. With half a mile to go, runners head up a very steep hill, and just when you think it's over, the trail turns and you're confronted with yet more trail. I leapfrogged back and forth with several other runners, all of us trying to find a sustainable pace.

When we were finally (and literally) out of the woods, I told myself that with just a short amount left - and all of it flat - it was time to reel in and pass some runners. My first target was a woman in a black jacket who had been in my bubble for the entire race. I passed her and worked hard to keep up my pace so she'd stay behind me. Then I went after a young woman whose purple shirt had been ahead of me for the entire race. Passed!

I crossed the finish line in 39:02. It was the slowest I've ever run the Hawk Hustle - and the proudest I've been. While I was injured, one of the things I missed most was being able to challenge myself physically. To do something that I knew would be hard, and to tackle it. Finally, I was able to do that again, to dig deep and to push through.

That feeling was a victory for me. As icing on the cake, my efforts were good enough for a second place age group trophy. That trophy will remind me of how good hard work feels.

Ready to Hustle?

Because my hurt leg survived last week's race, I've been thinking about attempting another cross country race: the Hawk Hustle. I've run it twice before, so I know that it's tough.

The first time I ran the race, I wasn't quite ready for how hilly and challenging it would be. I ended up adjusting my goal times on the fly. I also had a great time.

The next year was no easier. I slacked off on training before the race and wound up struggling through it. However, it was a small race on a day with lousy weather, so I ended up with a second place age group trophy!

This year will probably be my toughest experience and slowest time. Since I messed up my leg, the longest distance I've run was two miles, and that was with walk breaks. Could I really do a four mile race that's tough when I'm not coming off an injury? Should I just sign up as a walker and figure I'd place in the top ten and get a trophy?

I decided to do more research and actually run the course. Yesterday, I lined up pretty much where the starting line was and traced the course as best I could. I got it mostly right- there were some hills and paths that I remembered, but I ended up short on distance, so I obviously cut things too much.

I ran at a relaxed pace and took walk breaks, but it was still tough. The hills taxed me, both up and down. I figured if I did decide to run the race, it would be slow going; walking would be relatively easy.

At the same time, I couldn't imagine myself not running it. It has been really taxing to not be able to run. Going out and tackling something difficult would feel great - no matter what my finishing time is.

I started forming a strategy, looking for long flat stretches to run, downhills that would allow me to coast the uphills, and steep hills to use as walk breaks.

Before I knew it, I was signing up for the race and clicking "Runner."

The Greatest of All Time

Runners' World's December issue features "The Best of Running." It's a fun list, and I'm in agreement with almost everything listed there. Badwater as the hardest race? You bet - the more I read about that race, the less I ever want to experience it. Bananas as the ideal runner's food? Sure - portable, tasty, cheap, full of potassium. Pre as the coolest runner of all time? Shoot, that hardly even seems like an opinion; nobody's cooler than Pre.

But then, on page 70, they claim that Haile Gebrselassie is the greatest male distance runner of all time. Runners up (no pun intended)include Kenenisa Bekele, Frank Shorter, Roger Banister (debatable whether a miler counts as a distance runner, but no matter), and Jim Ryun.

Crazy talk!

Okay, yes, Haile is a great runner, with a pile of wins to his name. But he is not the greatest male distance runner of all time. That honor clearly belongs to Emil Zatopek.

In the 1952 Olympics, Zatopek won THREE gold medals: in the 5K, 10K, and his first ever marathon, which he entered at the spur of the moment. That is hard-core awesome. Even more awesome, he was generous with his fellow runners, offering training advice to men attempting to break a four-minute mile.

Emil Zatopek is the greatest male distance runner of all time.

Race Report: Governor's Cross Country Race

After a few successful sessions of running in quicksand, I decided to brave a race. And not just any race: the Governor's Cross Country Race. I ran this race for the first time last year, and it was probably the most fun race I did all year.

Sure, running through extreme, hilly, muddy trails and diving through creeks isn't exactly an easy way to come back from an injury. But, the race had a two mile option, the ground would be softer than a hard road, and it's not a race anyone tries to run fast. I figured it would be a great way to go out and have some fun.

My fellow two-milers watched the four milers take off, then the race director (my running coach from the training program, Russ) lined us up in the opposite direction. He told us to keep the blue flags to the right and said there'd be a pink ribbon marking the first mile. Throughout the course, we'd find shortcuts marked with yellow flags. Russ told us that they would be shorter, but not necessarily faster. And like last year, there were ribbons hidden throughout the race course that could be redeemed for prizes afterwards. With those instructions, we were off!

After just shy of a quarter mile on the dirt next to the road, the course took us into the woods. We followed a narrow trail that darted in between trees and scraped past bushes. Every single runner stopped to walk up a steep hill, then started running again at the top.

It felt glorious to be out there. The weather was perfect - in the 60s and sunny. The park was beautiful, and the experience of running through the woods felt natural, primal. We reached a clearing, and a volunteer stationed there told us all, "There's a big fallen tree here. You decide: over it or under it?"

I stood and looked at the tree for a moment, considering my options. The space under it was small. I'd have to get on my hands and knees and crawl under it. Climbing over it didn't seem like a good option, either. It was pretty tall, and it wouldn't be easy to get started. I also thought I'd probably scratch up my legs if I tried it. Under it was, and it worked fine. A few minutes later, I snagged a blue ribbon hidden in a grove of trees. I saw another ribbon nearby and called out to my fellow runners, in case anybody was still looking for one.

There were several creeks along the course race that we had to cross. I stepped into the first one and was surprised to see that the water was over my knees. At the next one, I followed the yellow flags and found a volunteer holding a rope that I could use to swing across. Tellingly, a man with a video camera was stationed at the other end. I grabbed the rope and swung... right into the deep water. I laughed and crawled out of the creek.

At the next creek, there was another rope swing. This time, I was ready for it. I knew that I needed to grab onto the rope as high as I could to avoid landing in the creek again. I held on as high up as I could and... SPLASH! Right into the water!

By this point, I was, naturally, soaking wet. Last year, I didn't know what I was getting into and looked a bit silly in really nice new running clothes. This time, I wore a sweatshirt that already had mud stains on it from running Living History Farms in it. Twice. I wore my good shoes because I didn't want to mess around with an injury, but I wore a pair of gloves that already had mud stains on them. I remembered from last year that knee socks were a good idea, but did not remember that a skirt was a bad idea. Just like last year, my skirt ended up sopping wet and clinging to my legs. Maybe the third year will be the time I get it right.

I ran along at a relaxed pace when a dad, decked out in an Afro wig, and his son (who was probably about eight) ran towards me. "Come on," said the dad. "We don't want to get beat by Pigtails here." I laughed, and he added, "And she probably doesn't want to lose to a guy in an Afro." I told him that was true, but that I didn't mind losing to a kid because kids are fast.

I took a walk break so that I could be sure my leg wasn't taxed too much. Two more women passed me... then I realized that the finish line was near. I picked it up, passed both of them, and closed the gap a bit with Afro.

I happily crossed the line in 24:40, then went into the lodge to reap the rewards of this great race. First, I grabbed a beer. Then, I turned in my blue ribbon. Prize choices included a water bottle (just like I got last year), coffee cups, and Snickers bars taped to lottery tickets. I snagged a coffee cup with the logo from the 2004 Pumpkin Dash on one side and my running club logo on the other. Finally, I hung out by the blazing fire and warmed up.

It feels wonderful to be out there again. It will take a while before I'm back at real racing speed, but I don't care. I'm just happy to be running.

Running through quicksand

After Sunday's poor attempt at running, I made another go at the walk five minutes, run five minutes for a total of 20 plan. I was rested and ready to go.

I still felt like I was running through quicksand. The good thing is, I learned from this article by Pete Pfitzinger that, "During the first few runs you will just be getting your body used to the running motion again. You may feel as though you have never run before. Rest assured, this feeling will go away after a few runs."

When my legs felt weird, I ran a little slower. I looked like this:


But because I was able to run at all, and because I finished without pain, I felt like this:

Pants on fire

It would appear that our friend Mr. Jackson Wasser (pictured with superhero friends), is enjoying a lying phase. I consulted renowned child psychologist Dr. Google, and he says that such a phase is common among preschoolers and can take two forms: tall tales and attempts to get out of trouble. Jack, gifted child that he is, employs both techniques.

Steve and Jack went to a Halloween party on Saturday while I was volunteering. Jack told me that he was very nice at the parade and shared his candy with other kids, including "some kids who had broken legs and could not get their own candy." I told him that was very nice and that I was proud of him. I was less proud when Steve told me that Jack did share his candy with other kids, but that there were no kids with broken legs.

Yeah.

Then, Steve discovered some marks in black pen on the back of the bathroom door. Turns out that Jack is some kind of graffiti prodigy. I confronted Jack with the evidence and he swore that he didn't do it. He was so adamant and so stubborn in not admitting any kind of wrongdoing that I think he could have passed a polygraph test. Dr. Google says this is common - kids Jack's age work so hard to lie to get themselves out of trouble that they believe it themselves.

Dr. Google further says that preschool aged kids are not quite ready developmentally to understand that lying is wrong. I shouldn't let it go, but I shouldn't make a big deal out of it either. Good thing, because I have some kids with broken legs to give candy to.

Race Report: Pumpkin Dash

Once again, we have a race report in which I am not actually racing. Hopefully this will not be too common of an occurance.

On Saturday afternoon, I volunteered to help with packet pick-up for the Pumpkin Dash. If you're a runner and have never volunteered for a race, then you should. It's definitely good running karma, and it's really a lot of fun. I basically hung out for a couple hours at my running club's offices, gave people bibs and t-shirts, took some money, and talked about running with friends. What's not to like? Plus I got one of the race t-shirts for my troubles, and it's really cool: a long-sleeved technical shirt with cool pumpkins and scarecrows on it! I have to admit, the fact that I'd be scoring a long-sleeved technical shirt was about 20% of why I wanted to volunteer! After my shift ended, I went next door to the running store and got a pair of inserts for my shoes, as recommended by my orthopedist. They are lovely and cushy.

Sunday morning, Steve decided at the last minute to run the 4K race (there was also an 8K), so the boys and I got dressed and headed out. The race was held at Credit Island Park, and I was immediately bombarded with sense memories of cross country races that I ran there in high school. There was a picnic shelter that I specifically remember standing by while my teammates and I cheered on the boys' team. It's a really pretty place on the Mississippi River, and it was a perfect fall day - great for running!

Steve headed to the starting line, and Jack and I walked about 3/4 of a mile away so we could find a spot to cheer for the runners that was away from everybody else. Steve almost missed us - he had his iPod on and wasn't expecting his cheerleaders to be in a spot so early in the race.

After we cheered for all of the runners, then all of the walkers, we moved to a spot near the finish line. We got to see the 8K leaders cruising past the 4K finish line, then started clapping for the 4K finishers. When Steve approached, I held up Jack and the two of us started yelling for him. Steve gestured for Jack to join him, and they crossed the pumpkin-lined finish together. Steve did very well, beating his goal of 10 minute miles.

Half an hour later, it was time for Jack to run the kids' race. Costumes were encouraged, and really, it doesn't take much to encourage Jack to wear a costume. In fact, he has so many that it's nice to have the opportunity to rock out more costumes than just the one worn trick-or-treating. For the race, he selected his Venom costume. People got a kick out of it because it has built-in muscles and Jack looked totally ripped.

Steve and I walked Jack to the starting line and showed him the cone that was the turnaround point. After some good luck hugs, we went to the sidelines to watch him. As always, I absolutely love watching Jack run. He has a look of pure joy as he races along, one that I always try to bring to mind when I'm struggling with a tough run myself. Jack ran great, smiling all the way, then happily collecting his finisher's medal, adorned with pumpkins.

That night, I decided it was time to attempt some running of my own. I set my Garmin (praise be thy name) to beep at me every five minutes. The plan was to walk five, then slowly run five - and to stay on the grass as much as possible - for 20 minutes.

How'd it go? Results inconclusive. The biggest thing is that running didn't feel quite natural. It was like I had a weight on my left leg and my stride never felt quite right. In retrospect, it wasn't the best day to try running again. I was on my feet all day in ballet flats, so my feet were tired before I started. I'm going to try the five-five 20 minute test again tonight, after a relaxing day of sitting at my desk. Right now, I'm not optimistic, but I want to try so I can really see what I'm up against. Wish me luck!

Walk this way

Good news, Internet!

Today, I walked a mile with no pain in my shin.

Tomorrow, I'm going to try two miles.

And if that works, I'm going to try some slow, easy walk-running.

I am so happy.

Bad luck duathalon

I cannot wait for the fling I am having with biking to end so that I can get back to my true love, running.

I planned an hour-long bike ride this morning and did my best to enjoy it. I tried not to think about how I'd really prefer to have my feet on the ground and just use my own body to move forward. I cruised through pretty neighborhoods and enjoyed the fall leaves.

Then, a mile and a half away from home, something screwy happened with the bike. The pedals locked up, there was something wrong with the chain, and basically, the damned thing didn't work anymore.

Crap in a hat.

And while they say that you never forget how to ride a bike, I can promise you that you do, in fact, forget how to fix the chain on your bike when it goes kablooey.

I had no choice but to start walking home, towing my useless bike along with me. All the way, I thought about how if I were running, this would not have happened.

Running is simple, beautiful, and free. There is no equipment that can suddenly fail in the middle of a run that keeps you from finishing. You either keep running, or you walk home... and if you walk home, you don't have to lug a stupid bike with you.

The good news is, a mile and a half long walk did not hurt my leg. I may be able to switch from biking to walking, which would be great.

Like riding a bike

I decided recently to take a break from moping around feeling sorry for myself that I can't run by doing some other form of exercise. Normally it's the kind of thing we call "cross training," but apparently there are other people who just straight-up ride bikes for reasons not at all related to running. I know! It's a crazy world out there.

I went to the gym (which again, I have heard people do for reasons not at all related to running) and logged 45 minutes on the stationery bike. The gym I go to is at one of the local colleges, so while I pedaled away, I was able to watch dancers rehearse for the upcoming halftime show. Wasn't it considerate of them to put on a show for me?

The biking was... okay. I was indoors instead of outside feeling the wind in my face, and I didn't actually go anywhere, so that's a drawback. I was far from experiencing the freedom that comes with running. But you know, it was better than nothing. It felt good to sweat, work hard, and get my heart rate up. I will keep plugging away at it until the glorious day that I can lace up my shoes and RUN.

Race Report: Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic

Here's a first for me: a race report with no actual racing involved, at least not on my part.

Friends, my leg is still in bad shape. It still hurts when I walk, stairs are still tricky, and going from sitting on the floor to a standing position is more challenging now than it was when I was pregnant. The situation really blows. Not only am I without the outlet of running, but let's not forget: my leg hurts. It's not especially bad, and I'm not taking anything for it, but it's a constant reminder of something I'd rather not think about.

That's a long way of explaining that no way was I going to be able to run the Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic, a 5 and 10K race put on by my running club on Sunday. Instead, I asked the race director if I could volunteer.

Race Day preparations were not especially different for me. I still woke up early, drank coffee, and hada light breakfast. I still gave some thought to what I'd wear. It was very cold outside, probably in the 40s, so I put on a comfy pair of track pants, knee socks (cotton, argyle, cute and totally inappropriate for running), a long-sleeved t-shirt (cotton, totally inappropriate for running), a sweatshirt that I planned to exchange for the race shirt when I arrived (again, inappropriate), a striped hat, and at the last minute, a pair of thin gloves.

The race was held at a pretty park along the Mississippi River and had a bike path that I should check out some time soon. The race director told me that I'd been assigned to work the finish line, removing chips from the runners' shoes. Cool! I helped set up the timing mat at the starting line, then busied myself with chatting with my running friends. For the first time ever, I stood off to the side while my fellow runners lined up to start and watched them take off.

When the runners were away, it was strangely quiet in our part of the park. What had been a hive of activity was just a handful of people. After a few minutes, we rolled up the starting map. Then I killed some time by drinking a cup of hot cider. We chatted about when the first 5K finishers would cross the line; everybody figured that based on the field, it would be around 17 minutes. With just shy of 15 minutes on the clock, I took my position on a folding chair in the finishing chute, along with two other volunteers.

Sure enough, shortly after the 17 minute mark, the first finisher crossed the line, well ahead of the runner in second place. From then on, we were steadily busy. Chip removal was a great job to have. I got to watch every single runner cross the finish line, chat with the other volunteers, admire really cute running outfits (which would probably only happen when all three volunteers were women), and cheer for everybody, especially my friends.

The only drawback is that it got really cold. I could have used an extra pair of socks, as my toes were getting numb. One of my running friends brought me a cup of hot coffee and thus proved himself to be a special kind of running angel, a running angel who doesn't help fellow runners, but instead, icy volunteers.

The 10K finishers started to slow up, and after a while, we heard that there were only two women left on the course. I moved my chair closer up to the finishing line, and the other two volunteers departed. It was the first time I'd ever been there to see someone finish last in a race, and I'm happy to say that the women with that distinction crossed the finish line with an exhilarated smile on her face. I sat around for a few minutes, rather than yelling, "Okay, last place just cross the line. Let's pack this up!" That smiling runner had just finished a 10K, maybe her first. I wanted her to enjoy her moment no matter how many runners finished ahead of her.

After the race was over, I dove into a huge catered breakfast that was free for all of the volunteers and runners. There were eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, and muffins. The food was delicious, and everyone had fun hanging around eating, despite the cold.

Just like I do when I finish a race, I am already making plans for my next. I am afraid that, in two weeks, I am still not going to be up to running, not even a slow 4K. But I can get out there and help my fellow runners by volunteering. I know that, in time, I'll be back there toeing the line with the others. Until that day comes, I want to bank some karma by giving back.

Mrs. Brightside

But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside

I'm not seeing the bright side to my injury today. I don't want to think about how it could be worse. To be honest, I'm pretty down.

Sunday will mark two weeks I've gone without running. The pain in my leg is better than it was, but it's not gone. Still there, after almost two weeks of resting.

I am used to being strong and capable. Now I have to walk down the stairs slowly and carefully. I ran a few steps yesterday to catch up with Steve and Jack in the parking lot, and it was very painful. I have a bin of summer clothes that needs to go to the basement. I am afraid that if I try to carry them down myself I will hurt myself, so I am going to have to ask Steve to do it for me. He will, of course, without complaint. But I don't want to have to ask help for something I should be able to do myself without thinking.

I experimented with wearing high heels again, even just low ones. When I'm not in running shoes, I am in heels, but apparently not now. That experiment made me come to the conclusion that it was time to buy some more flats. Flats are cute, and I don't want to look cute. I want to look authoritative and sexy. Ballet flats aren't going to cut it.

My running club has a race in a few weeks, the Pumpkin Dash. There's an 8K, a 4K, and a 1/4 mile costumed kids' race. I've signed Jack up for the kids' race. Today, I was emailing Steve about the possibility of our running the 4K together. It'll be a full month after the half marathon, so that seemed like a good amount of recovery time before easing back into running. He'd help me keep my pace slow and easy, and it would be fun to run it with him. Then I decided not to register now, to play it by ear and see if I am up to it.

The fact that I am wondering whether or not I will be capable of running a slow race of around 2-1/2 miles is really depressing.

The injured runner

An injured runner is a sad creature. We want, more than anything, to be out running. When you're injured, every glance out your car window reveals a veritable army of fellow runners, racing happily down the sidewalks. Every weather forecast might as well say "Perfect running weather! Sucks to be you!" And your running shoes, naturally, taunt you.

Running is a favorite activity, a way to rationalize eating a cookie, an opportunity to spend time with friends, a chance to be alone on a Sunday morning, and the best stress relief there is. Without running, what to do?

I am trying to be the best injured runner I can possibly be.

If running was the first thing to go for me, the running diet was the second. I am not burning the calories I was just a few weeks ago, so I am being much more mindful of what I eat. In addition to keeping the cookie quantities in check, I'm also working to strengthen and heal those bones that are giving me a hard time by eating more calcium rich foods. My new snacks of choice are yogurt and cottage cheese.

Like most (slightly obsessive) runners, part of me fears that if I miss a workout, my legs will atrophy and I'll be the slowest slug out there. So yesterday, I literally dusted off my bike and helmet and went for a ride. It felt good to get my heart pumping again, and the exercise didn't bother my leg at all. Of course I would rather be running, but it's better than nothing.

Finally, I don't want to shut myself off from the running community. I'll be posting updates from Injury Land, and of course I'll still read my favorite blogs. And there's a race on Sunday that I had been planning on running. Since that's not in the cards, I'm going to volunteer. The time to give back is long overdue, and if I can't run myself, at least I can support those who can.