Random running thoughts

On a good run, my brain goes on autopilot.

...in my mind's eye, I can see it, the photograph of myself and the big dark horse that has no name. The photo captures the image of us sailing over a fence on a cross-country course -- a fence of decent substance, too, not my usual 18" hop -- outfitted in our XC battle gear. We both have the eagle-eyed expression of individuals intent on their job as we look toward the next fence, focused, concentrating, getting the job done. Making the time. I wonder if I'll ever have a real photograph of that...

I've realized that aging means so few opportunities left for true bad-assery in any sort of real, athletic way. Or at least it seems that way at the moment.

...at the Introductory level there's not a lot of exciting movements to ride.Walk, trot, 20m circle, halt. Across the diagonal at the trot and the walk. Not even a rein back or canter. Lots of good foundation for later levels, but what kind of freestyle ride can I choreograph that will be at least slightly more exciting than watching grass grow?

...so should I think about the competitive running season this year again since it doesn't look like horse shows or trials will be part of my plans? Probably. I know I can get to the 10k distance, and definitely the 8k...probably not the half marathon. I wonder why that distance puts me off so much? I think it's the time I know it takes to run ten or twelve miles at a stretch. Hm. I think I need new sneakers.

...hopefully I don't look too chubby and middle-aged here on the side of the road. I wonder if I'm breathing really hard to the people I pass. I don't think so, but these headphones kind of mute that...

...crinoline and shoes, purse, jewelry. I hope I can find a crinoline for that prom dress before next weekend....

...I wonder if I should start buying some nice tack for my "someday" horse? A nice black bridle and maybe a halter? What if I find my horse and then have no tack to ride with? Or worse, have no budget for tack? I could get a horse bridle...that would be cool....a saddle, probably better wait til I have the horse.... I should find a decently-fitting black dressage show coat, too....navy blue is not my favorite, but it's all I've got for now......and Wren needs a new helmet for sure....and I would like a new one for myself....

...I have to have to have to lose some weight....have to. Twenty five pounds would be awesome, but ten would satisfy me for a little while...I still can't believe I'm not too heavy for this pony....

Brittle

Some days when I run, I feel almost invincible. Strong, athletic, powerful. Other days, no matter what I do, all I feel is brittle. Like every step is painful, risks shattering the whole of me into tiny pieces on the road.

Today I was brittle. Like the ice hiding in creases in the ground, along the ditches and in the birdbaths and dog bowls. Sure, the temperature was just below freezing, but the sun was out, and there wasn't as much wind as yesterday, and I needed to get some air for sure. I thought about just going for a walk, but why walk when you can burn more calories and "work out" with a run?

A walk would have likely been more pleasant, and more conducive to a clearing of the mind, but I know I would have felt guilty for walking when I could have run. Isn't it terrible, the things the mind does? Can't take it easy, that's not the way you should do things if you want to excel.

I don't like doing this to myself, the guilt for not measuring up, or for wanting to relax and slow down, or for choosing what feels the most right at the time, even though it isn't what I "should" do. Discipline is a hard mistress sometimes, and acceptance a virtue I don't often keep about myself. But I need to, and I will take a few quiet moments now and realign my attitude and take a deep breath and move on. Some days, you do what you can do, and that's it. And that's today. I am grateful I could even get out there, and proud of myself for doing it, cold as it is.

But I am hoping it's the cold weather that makes getting off a piece of furniture an exercise in stiff unfolding of body parts, and a feeling like I need all my moving parts oiled.

On Ponies and People

It's starting to feel like a Norse saga, this quest to help Wren learn to ride horses.

Series of scary falls this winter = slightly fearful-in-the-saddle child. Venerable pony who teaches all new little kids passes away in March. A few weeks later, new ponies come who can teach the little kids to ride. Wren falls in love with one of them, an aged paint mare who is super-quiet, and clearly knows her job. She even halts square without being asked. Wren is delighted. Wren decides we will buy said ancient pony and build a barn.

Wren tries to ride in the small barn show this past weekend, but can only muster the courage for two classes and the vaulting. She rides Champ in one class (and freaks out afterward and has to put Champ away), and then is persuaded to ride Candy (aged pony mare) in the Trail class. She vaults on Beau, the 17h Belgian Draft gelding, and gets anxious and cries when she sits on a pony and walks around. I know this is a phase -- she loves horses probably more than I did at her age -- but it's sad and frustrating and disheartening to watch your child struggle this way.

And then. And THEN, the twentysomething year old owner of said new ponies (and two other horses) defaults on the co-op boarding arrangement she had with our trainer, and has to come and take her ponies back. So now there are no dead-quiet ponies to ride.

Now we are struggling with the decision to buy a quiet, older pony for Wren to learn on, or just tough it out and see what happens over the summer with the school ponies that are already in the barn. Ancient pony, Candy, is twenty, and needs some groceries and some care, but seems otherwise healthy. She certainly knows her job. Check out this square halt in the Trail class on Sunday:

Seriously. I mean, look at that.

We don't know what to do. I asked our trainer for her input and advice, so I am waiting to hear back from her on the subject. Summer's coming, which should easily equal more time out at the barn, riding, for both of us, but it's such a big risk, I feel almost paralyzed by the choices and options.

And, then there is Boston.

As a runner, and a parent, and a spouse, and hell, as a person in the world, I am beyond appalled by the horrible acts of deranged people. I have crossed the finish line of a few races, including the Monument Avenue 10K, which regularly has tens of thousands of walkers and runners. Crossing that line was one of the most exhilarating, empowering, emotional experiences I've ever had. I can't even fathom what it would be like to forever have the terror of a bombing attached to that experience. When I went out for what ended up being a fairly crummy run last night, it was all I could think about -- what it was like to run for miles, and then, come within sight of the finish, people cheering, your friends and family cheering, waiting to fold you in their arms and celebrate a significant accomplishment with you...and then to have it all taken away by horror and pain and destruction wrought by some bottom-feeding asshole with fucked-up internal wiring.

I thought about the thousands of runners who were competing in their first Boston Marathon who didn't get to finish, who were stopped a mile or so before the end and told the race was over, because of aforementioned Bottom-Feeding Asshole. Or the people who will now never run again because BFA fixed it so they had their legs blown off while watching and cheering from the sidelines. Their legs. When they went down to watch the runners, they had their legs, and they used them to get to the best vantage point for watching the finish. And then, by 3pm, they were amputees. I can't even...

And that one, completely devastated family whose father/husband ran the marathon, and who has now lost a son, and has a daughter and wife/mother critically injured, and a daughter who witnessed the horror.

I am so very tired of horrible people. I am so very tired of people sometimes.

I wonder what races and sporting events will look like now. Will I have to forgo my husband and kids cheering for me from the sidelines at the finish in order to be safe while I compete? What will we do as a society about whatever is causing people to lose their minds and inflict this kind of craziness? What IS causing this sort of thing to happen?

Conspiracy theorists and tea party people need not comment. There's nothing you have to say that I am willing to listen to.

I guess for now, the best thing to do is.....carry on. I am pledged to run 26.2 for Boston, and my goal is to complete that as quickly as possible without injuring myself. I think it will take me two and a half weeks, tops. I'm not going to stop running. Or riding, or going out or being at concerts or fairs or street festivals or sporting events. To do that gives the BFA's of this world power that they are not entitled to.

Tomorrow, I will run.

Winter Fun, and Also A Run

I finally got my ass in gear and ran for the first time in two weeks. It was raining, and I have run in the rain so much this winter that I just couldn't face going outside, so I ran on the (hated) treadmill (dreadmill). There is definitely something wrong with the calibration on the 'mill, because I know my pace really well, and there is NO WAY I only ran 2 miles in 31 minutes. Seriously. That's like a 14 min/mile pace. No. Way.

Anyway, I did it, yay, and now I feel like I did something good. If only I could stop mainlining carbohydrates, that would be an improvement.

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I took the kids ice skating on Monday, since there was no school. Kira used to take lessons, and of course I have been ice skating since I was a little girl, but the little kids had never been. We had a great time! It was a lucky thing I saved Kira's old figure skates, because one pair fit Wren, and the other, smaller pair actually fit Noah. I had my own skates from college, and Kira got rentals.

Noah was not sure about this skating thing, but Wren went right to it, especially after she found a friend from her school was there practicing her program.

Kira remembered how to skate, and she was off and having fun.

Halfway through the session, we got to watch the zamboni resurface the ice. Totally fascinating! And super-smooth ice afterward!

Back on the ice, Wren got brave and decided to go out sans buckets.

She really did well for her first try at it! Noah saw his sister try, and so HE had to try, too:

My boy is determined, but not as reckless as his sister. He liked to skate, but he did NOT like falling down.

Kira got a picture of me on the ice, and then we had to take a self-portrait.

We went home after about two hours of skating, and made soft pretzels, a winter school-holiday tradition. It was a fun afternoon, and we definitely want to go back!

Running on emotion

My usual running days are Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays or Sundays. This over-40 body just can't take the pounding of a daily run, and I respect my temple enough to pay attention to what's it's telling me, usually. The exchange for being able to run at all, I feel, is that I cannot run every day.

As much as I prefer to run in the cooler to cold weather of fall and winter and very early spring, I admit it is extremely difficult to maintain my schedule when all I really want to do is install myself on the couch with some hot tea and a good book and forget I ever thought of myself as an athlete.

Bad idea. I've worked too hard to let it go in a few moments of chilly weakness.

So, after whining and complaining to myself about it, I went out for my regular run -- four miles -- on Tuesday  It wasn't terribly cold, just cool enough for long sleeves, and the mercury in the thermometer (do they even still put mercury in thermometers??) was on it's way up. I forced myself out the door right after I dropped Noah off at preschool, so I wouldn't back out, and so I wouldn't decide I had something else more important to do.

Right before I went out, I though, huh, maybe I could use the extra motivation of one of my race playlists. I never run with music unless I am racing, mostly because I run on neighborhood streets without sidewalks, and I don';t want to get surprised by a car. But I took my iPod Nano, and set the 8K playlist to run on shuffle.

That was the best decision I could have made.

While I prefer to work out and run to music so loud I can't hear myself think, I opted for slightly less volume so I wouldn't have trouble hearing the traffic. I loved being in my own little bubble, and after a few minutes of The Wallflowers' 'Reboot The Mission', I was totally jazzed and moving out in my warmup mile.



From there, the shuffle moved on to the rest of the list, heavy on 90's dance pop and various other songs with heavy bass and beat. What can I say, I'm a former dancer.

My dissociative behavior for this run included my favorite head game -- choreographing dances to whatever music was playing. I did some of that, and then I shifted to choreographing musical kur rides . I have always fantasized about riding at the highest levels of the sport of dressage, on a big, powerful horse -- always black -- and performing an out of this world tough ride set to some piece of unexpected and powerful music. In my mind, I was a rebel, performing the kur to popular dance music, electronica, or some rap/hip-hop, or pop song. Something totally unexpected and out of character for the sport. I don't know why, maybe just for the performance art aspect of it. Maybe for flipping the elite level the symbolic bird. Heh.

Anyway, I got so deep into my choreography on one really tough hill on my route that not only did I miss the fact that I climbed the hill, but also I could feel the horse I was mentally riding. I could feel the one-tempi changes at the canter, and the piaffe and passage, and tight canter circles. of course, I was in near-perfect form -- this was MY imagining, after all -- and I could imagine the huge movement of the horse underneath me. This is a testament to the power of the mind. I could feel that horse underneath me. That horse I have never owned, nor ridden, nor even sat on. That horse that does not exist to my knowledge. At one point, the vision became so strong, I felt tears briefly well up in my eyes. It was so perfect -- the loud music, the motion of the horse, my physical effort, my imagination of what the scene would be like.

I didn't actually cry, but it was one of those moments I recognize from performing. When the dance and the dancer literally become the same. It was beyond powerful. It reminded me that I need to harness this power more often, especially when I finished my run and came home to enter my time into my DailyMile page so it would calculate my pace.

Tuesday, I ran a 10:26 mile. That's a minute and a half faster than my usual mile pace.

Music makes me do anything.

Like Christmas

The requisite "house in the snow" picture I take every time it snows here.
7:30 a.m., Friday, January 18, 2013

Not quite enough snow fell last night to make a real snowman, so I had to augment with PicMonkey. I take this picture every time it snows, mostly because I think our house is pretty in the snow, but also because it's interesting to look back over the ten years we have lived here and see how our house has changed from year to year. Different cars in the driveways, different landscaping, flags, decorations.

Our day started way too early. My son is an extremely early riser, and got me up the first time at 5:00am. And then he proceeded to get me up every ten minutes of so after that, until I finally gave up in a huff and hauled myself out of bed, wide awake and slightly irritated. I realize a snow day is like Christmas to them, but seriously, an opportunity to sleep past the 6am alarm was juuuust about within my grasp.

I know, I know. One day, I will look back and wish for today, when my son is fourteen and hasn't gotten out of bed at noon. And I want him to go out in the snow-covered yard and throw snowballs and go for a walk with me. 

Kira has still not gotten up, even though I know she is awake.

We HAD to go out as soon as it was light enough to see outside. The kids voluntarily dressed themselves (a minor miracle in itself), and went out to throw chunks of frozen snow at each other. And at me. Travis enjoyed the opportunity to wear his no-kidding authentic Russian fur hat (purchased in Russia, even). 

This is what passes for school-canceling snow here in the 804. Note that the roads aren't really even frozen. Oh, I am not complaining, mind you, because even though I was awake at 5am, I did not have to be functional, nor make lunches, nor implore anyone to get dressed, brush their hair or teeth, or find backpacks. Or argue about how much clothing really was necessary.

Shortly, I am going for a run. At least three miles, maybe more if the roads aren't too slippery. The sun's out now, so I don't expect the snow to last too long today.

But for a single snow day, on a Friday, before an already-scheduled three-day weekend, it's perfect.

The Ukrop's Monument Avenue 10K

I ran in my first real road race this past weekend. It was the Monument Avenue 10K, held each year here in Richmond, and it was so much fun!

It took me a few days to really process the whole experience before deciding to write about it, and now I want to capture some of the details before I forget, so some of this will be poetic musings about me, and running and conquering personal goals, but some will also be race details and training information so I don't forget it for the next race.

Having not run this (or any, really) race before, and knowing there were going to be 42,000+ people downtown, I knew we'd have to get a decently early start. Thanks to our awesome friends, the little kids were able to spend the morning at their place, rather than be subjected to getting dragged all over the Fan and the VCU campus, waiting for Mommy. Kira opted to stay home and be a teenager (i.e., sleep in).

I got up really early (6:00) and got dressed, making sure I ate breakfast and had my coffee by 7:30, so I wouldn't be full by my 10:03 start time. Yogurt with honey and walnuts, and a toaster waffle was all I could stomach. I wanted that waffle really badly, and as soon as I ate it, I wished I hadn’t. Interesting side note: When I was getting dressed early in the morning, I looked out the bathroom window and noticed my neighbors' lights were on in their bathroom and downstairs. I guessed they were running the race, too, and I was right, as we met up with them after the race.

On our way down to the start line, it started to rain a little, which wasn't terrible, but it was chilly, and I didn't have anything to wear before the race but my well-loved black hoodie. Next time, I will remember to pack a trash bag just in case. I knew Travis wasn't going to be able to wait with me at the start, so he dropped me off a couple of blocks from the finish, and I walked, with a couple hundred other people, over to the starting area on Broad Street.

In my long shorts and short sleeve technical shirt, I wasn't totally frozen, but it was definitely chilly. I'd left my hoodie in the car, as I knew the only thing I could do with it would be to ditch it at the start, and I knew I would need it for afterward. It wasn't terrible, though, and I wasn't the only one without a jacket.

Getting close to the start area, I could hear the other waves getting on the course. The music was blasting, there were hundreds and hundreds of people all in a party mood, and I was walking into the midst of it all. I have to be honest and say that I was already starting to get all emotional. It was very powerful. I made my way down to Broad Street, and did get out of the rain for a while, both at the VCU bookstore, and in a small storefront church that had opened its doors to runners waiting for the start. The heat was on in there, and the company was nice; I spoke to two ladies for a while, and we talked about running and about the Disney marathon series. :)

I got into my wave group (WC) at around 9:30, so I could get a good position on the right side of the road. Originally, I was supposed to be *walking* this race with a group of therapist friends of mine, but it happened that each had developed issues along the way that prevented them from participating. I still looked around, though, in hopes of finding someone I knew. No luck. A sweet lady standing next to me offered to take my picture and text it to my husband, which was nice.

Before I knew it, it was time to go. The announcer was getting the crowd pumped up, and we were all jumping up and down to Van Halen's 'Jump'. It was still sprinkling a little bit. I set my stopwatch, and remembered my plan to walk the first mile, made sure my energy gels weren’t going to fall out of my sports bra, and off we went, cheering as we crossed over the start line. All I could think was, "Oh my God, now I *have* to do this!" I turned my music down a bit to listen to the people cheering, but as I rounded the corner and got out to Monument, I turned the music back up.

I walked the first three-quarters of a mile, until we got out on Monument Avenue, and then I started my (slow) run. I spent the first 2 miles frustrated by the number of people walking who were blocking the way. The rule is, only two people across, and stay to the right if you're slow, but there were lines of people four to eight across the road, all walking, and those of us slow runners were zig-zagging all over the road to get by. It made for a really irritating experience, but there was nothing I could do except be polite and try to get around. I would say that in the first three and a half miles, most of the walking I did was forced on me because of the crowd. No help for that, except to register for a faster wave next year. I think I ran about 7 miles total, though, with all that shifting back and forth across the road.

Miles 2 to 4 were good. My legs did not hurt, my pace was decent, and I was able to take a Gu (energy gel) and get a sip of water without any trouble. It was nice to feel good. I ran most of that distance. At one point, I debated taking off my music, but I opted not to, ultimately. As much as this race is one big concert and party, it was still going to be a physical challenge for me, and I needed to be able to deal with that. Music helps me crawl into my head and keep my focus away from the physical effort. The ability to dissociate is a powerful skill to have, and I haz it.

The mile distance between marker 4 and 5 was an ETERNITY. So much so, that I was wondering where the hell the 5 mile marker was, and then was thinking I somehow missed it! I walked more here than I wanted to, just because I was having trouble with cardio endurance at this point. My legs still felt great, so that was frustrating. Usually it's the other way around.

FINALLY, I came upon mile 5. I had been looking for my photographer friend, who had stationed himself at the intersection of Monument and Belmont, and I wanted to try to get him to take a picture of me, but as I struggled with mile 4 to 5, I lost track of the intersecting streets, and passed him without realizing it. He didn't see me, either. :(

At mile 5 to 6, I was just hoping I had enough in me to finish at a run. I let myself walk just a little to catch my breath and get re-organized, and by the time Monument turned into Franklin, I was running again. My iPod put on Kelly Clarkson's "Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You)", which was perfect for the end of this race. The run down to the finish was incredible! I could hear all the people cheering even though I had my music up loud! What I didn't know was that Travis had made his way to the finish, and was yelling for me all the way over the finish line, 'Go, Chris!' poster in hand! It was awesome. Really really awesome. I really had to work to keep from crying as I ran over the timing pads and into the finish area.

I was completely unprepared for the emotional feeling of "I can do ANYTHING!!" that came over me after I got through the finish. It was incredible, and I felt really overwhelmed. I know I said to myself, "I am SO doing this again!", and I am pretty sure I also made up my mind to try for the half marathon in the fall.

Not expecting Travis to find me right away, I went off in search of food and water. Yay for Ukrop's White house rolls and bananas! Food in hand, I wandered back over to the family meeting area, and Travis found me easily after that. He took some great video of me exclaiming over what I thought was my race time, only to found out later I was off by ten minutes. But he told me over and over how proud he was of me, and I almost cried. Of course I know my husband is proud of me, but this really felt like I did something big. We wandered around for a while, debated on whether or not I should eat a funnel cake (I wanted one but opted out), and then we headed toward the parking garage. Along the way, we ran into our backyard neighbors who both had run the race! By this time, I was really starting to get sore and stiff, particularly in my low back and left leg. Not horrible, but not comfortable, either. It was tough to slide into the car, and my ice packs were there, but not as cold, and it had been a while since I stopped running.

Travis dropped me off at home so I could shower and unwind a little while he went to retrieve the little kids. Kira, much like most teens, hadn't even gotten out of bed yet. I, however, had run six miles!

The rest of the day was full of kid activities (Easter egg hunt at our church), dinner out (MmmmMexican!), and me trying to avoid eating ALL THE THINGS!! I finished up the day with a celebratory beer, got briefly teary-eyed over my official time (which was ten minutes slower than according to my watch), but then reminded myself of the huge thing I had done, and resolved to be faster next time.

I still don’t like to run. I love what it does for me, and I love feeling as powerful as I did when I finished that race. That’s good enough for me right now. I learned a lot while training for this race, and I know now just how helpful it is to have experienced friends and other runners to help figure out what to do.

I know that there is nothing more comfortable than ‘real’ technical running clothing when you’re running.

I know that I really CAN do this running thing.

I know that racing is so much fun, even if there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m going even come close to winning.

I know that most runners are incredibly friendly, helpful, and supportive, even to 41 year old, slightly pudgy beginner runner moms.

I know about the incredible power of the ice pack/ice bath immediately after a run.

I know that there is strength in numbers. And in me.