Keeping the Holiday Weight Off (worthless advice)

'Tis the season for holiday parties. This Friday I have my office party, this Saturday is a Mom's Night In, complete with sewing and wine, next Thursday is Charlie's holiday show, and next Saturday is another Mom's Night Wine Tasting. All that plus a cookie swap the following Monday. And that's just the first two weeks of the month! The news outlets like to take advantage of the season and draw extra attention to their health and wellness sections, which invariably include tips on how to keep from enjoying the yummy food that goes along with the holiday season. Waaaaaaaay back in 2008 I posted my own thoughts on the issue, and since I still think they're relevant I'm going to repost it for you. Not like any of you have seen it before, back then I had a whopping three followers. Oh wait, still do :)

Here goes!

Every year I read the same articles that tell you how to avoid gaining weight during this festive season. Every year I read the same couple of tips that just stare out at me as being completely unrealistic. I'm going to share my favorites with you. You're so lucky!

1. Avoid Temptation

Avoid constantly putting yourself in situations that tempt you. For example, don’t walk through the break room at work 10 times a day when you know it's filled with holiday treats and candies. Spend a few minutes in the morning packing a healthy snack (like almonds, a piece of fruit or a yogurt) so you'll have a healthy weight-loss alternative.

And don't place treats on your kitchen counter to stare you in the face or take four desserts off the buffet vowing to take only one bite of each. Remember, EAT before you meet. Have this small meal before you go to any parties: a hardboiled egg, apple, and a thirst quencher (water, seltzer, diet soda, tea).

This is a great idea in theory, but who the hell can actually do this in practice? In reality you know that the almonds, fruit, and yogurt are going to be left to languish in the back of the workroom refrigerator in favor of cookies and other such niceties. As for the second tip, if you eat that small meal before the party you're inevitably going to end up eating the equivalent of two meals by the time all is said and done. So what if you had a hardboiled egg? Are you still going to be passing up chocolate? May as well skip the calories in the egg and apple altogether and just have chocolate for dinner instead.



2. Liquid calories count

Holidays are notorious for tempting us with drinks we wouldn't normally consume. Alcohol offers no nutrients — just empty calories, and we often forget to count them. Eggnog coffee drinks with whipped cream, hot toddies, spiced rum, these drinks can have as many calories as a personal pan pizza! Limit your consumption and order sparkling water with a splash of cranberry juice instead. It'll look festive and save calories. If you want to go for the alcohol, alternate alcoholic drinks with diet-friendly, calorie-free sparkling water.

This is all true, but what they're forgetting here is that "sparkling water with a splash of cranberry juice" isn't going to help us deal with those difficult people in our lives that come out of the woodwork around the holiday season. It also won't help you handle hosting a holiday with grace, or ensure that you're relaxed enough to keep you from grinding your teeth down to nothing while you clench your jaw to avoid saying something in the heat of a discussion that you might regret later (Why yes, of course I believe that women should know their place and stay inside the home. Why no, I don't believe that men and women are intellectual equals). Please understand that I'm not in any way shape or form saying that alcohol is necessary to make it through the holiday season, just that it can go a long way in maintaining quality family relations.



3. Save it for something special

Indulge only in new, interesting foods; have one taste of each. Avoid feeling deprived and distracted by food all evening long — allow yourself one dessert or holiday truffle per event. When you’re done, destroy the plate. If you've had enough to eat but others are still picking, dump salt over any food you have left.

Sure, I'll just have one bite of chocolate. Like I said above, I would just make that the whole meal. That's my personal issue though, instead of giving up on the dessert part I just won't eat any "real food" to make up for it. I do that during work potluck lunches pretty regularly. Who needs chili, soup, or appetizers? Pass the dessert, please.



I do like the salt idea, but I suffer from "leftovers guilt" and can't bear to throw away food. This is why at any given time you will find a random collection of neatly packed tupperware containers stacked in our fridge. What's in there right now? Leftover calzone filling? Check. Leftover corn tortilla strips? Check. A tea bag that I can reuse because the flavor is so strong? Check. Half of a green pepper that I know I have little intention of actually finishing? Check.

Cheers!

30 Days of Thanks

Over on my other blog, I'm doing an exercise called the 30 Days of Thanks. Naturally, some of them ended up being running related :)



Today I am thankful that I have strong and healthy legs that let me run far. Not super fast, but definitely far. 10 months ago I was completely intimidated by the box on the Flying Pig Training Group plan that called for 10 miles on a cold Saturday in January. 2 full and 3 half marathons later, my weeks just don't feel complete without a weekend 10.



Nothing wakes up the soul like an early solo run on a crisp fall morning. Add a post-run breakfast at Green Dog Cafe with bacon, biscuits, and coffee, and you've got a very happy Bean.

Air Force Marathon - Race Recap

As I mentioned before... I'll get the pain out of the way early - I didn't meet my goal of running a sub-four-hour marathon. I didn't blow it by minutes, either - I blew it by 10 freaking seconds. TEN SECONDS. A desperately-needed 30-second potty break at mile 22 kept me from reaching my goal. I don't like giving too much information, but I would have gladly peed my pants if that was all it took - unfortunately, that wasn't the issue.


Failure to meet my goal aside, the Air Force Marathon was totally amazing. AMAZING.

My marathon fun started off on Friday at the Breakfast of Champions. Thanks to a member of the AF FB Group for giving away her ticket, since she couldn't make it! I was so excited to have the opportunity to go.



I got to hear from some really interesting panelists - Josh Cox, who holds the AF course record (and who now also holds the 10K record and would hold the Half record had his pace car not lead him down the wrong path), Mark Cucuzzela, the Military's Medical Consultant and winner of this year's Marathon, Danny Dreyer, of Chi Running fame, and Marshall Ulrich, all around badass. Dude has ascended all of the big 7 summits, with success on his first try. Only person in the world to do that. I actually got to talk to Dr. Cucuzzela one-on-one and get his take on switching over to a minimalist shoe - he's all for it. I even got my sister a Danny Dreyer autograph (wanted to get an autographed book, but they had sold out of Chi Running, so she'll have to settle for an autographed AF Marathon poster).

After breakfast, I headed over to the expo to pick up my packet.





Don't you love the "Beer Coupon?" I think that's the best part.

Shockingly, I managed to avoid buying anything but Sport Beans and Gu. I still can't figure out how that happened.

Met my friend Rachel for a carb-filled lunch - thought about ordering fettuccine alfredo, a la Michael Scott. That's what Rachel had, and it smelled soooooo good.

Drove home, found that Charlie was complaining of an earache, took him to the pedi, found out that he had a double ear infection. That meant the Charlies wouldn't be accompanying me to the race. Enjoyed my now-traditional pre-race Chipotle.

The next morning, I got up ass early so that I could leave my house by 4:00. Of course, there was no traffic, so I was easily at the gate by 5:00, when it opened. I got prime parking, which was still a good mile from the start line. On my trek across the base, I walked and talked with a woman who had run more than 100 marathons. I thought that was pretty amazing, until I heard that Running Buddy (hereafter referred to as "RB") ran the marathon with a woman who was on #202! How crazy is that?

It was COLD out! We're talking 40-something degrees. Which is nice, and all, but not when you're standing around in running shorts and a tank. Luckily, I had dug up an old, ugly long-sleeved shirt to use as a "throwaway" shirt, so at least my arms were covered. Still, I nearly froze to death waiting to catch up with RB. I watched a lot of videos on the design and use of several Boeing aircraft while I waited - their trailer acted as a nice wind-shield.

Met up with RB and her husband, who was running the half. We had about 20 minutes until start time, so we chattered nervously and RB showed off her super sweet hot pink KT Tape job. 7:30 was quickly approaching, so we said our good-byes and good-lucks and went off to meet our pace groups.

The start was amazing. I know I already said that, but I'll say it again. AMAZING. To be on the Air Force Base, surrounded by active military personnel, all of who were voluntarily there to support US, the RUNNERS, was totally amazing. Inspiring. Especially when you looked at the 10K-ers who were running with the packs. That's hardcore.


(source: AFM FB page)

Someone sang the National Anthem, and then the B-1B Lancer got us all pumped with a spectacular flyover. I've never been that close to a plane like that, let alone a plane like that flying directly over my head, and I got goosebumps. That thing was a monster! And really freaking loud. The ground shook as the sound wave caught up with us. Holy cow.


(source: AFM FB page)

And then we were off.

I'm going to spare you the paragraphs and paragraphs of detailed race recaps, since it really went very, very well. The pace group was awesome, I enjoyed the camaraderie and the conversation. They did take a few sections a little faster than I would have liked, especially at MileTen, which took us through downtown Fairborn. This was my absolute favorite part of the course - it was a giant town-wide party just for the race. Hundreds of people lining the streets cheering, dressed in costumes. At the end of the main route, there was a giant set-up mimicking Area 51, complete with Alien costumes and blow-up props. It was freaking sweet. I haven't found any pictures yet, but I'll certainly share them when I do. The only thing missing was Fox Mulder. Would have loved to see him right around the halfway point :p

Around mile 12, I found myself running with two random guys from the pace group, Adam and Shawn. We compared playlists, complained about hills, swapped stories about kids and families and life, and joyfully called out each mile marker. I *may* have been a little obnoxious with my forced enthusiasm. I'm very much of the "Fake it Till you Make It" camp, so I was trying my damndest to tune out the tiredness of my legs toward the end. Unfortunately for my new friends, that included singing out loud to my ipod and squealing in delight every time we ticked off another half mile.

We carried each other through miles 12-22, when Adam had to stop to stretch out his hamstrings. I was afraid to stop because I thought I might not be able to start again, so I kept going. Well, that only lasted a few minutes, because I had to take an emergency bathroom stop. It was unavoidable. Thankfully, there was no line at the porta-potty, but it still took me 30 seconds (yes, I timed it). I will forever kick myself for stopping. I wish it had been as easy as just peeing my pants, but it was... something else. We'll leave it at that. I still haven't been able to figure out how to make that problem go away. I managed to push through it at the Pig, but there was no ignoring it this time around. Next time I think I'm going to stick with Sport Beans only and forgo the Gu altogether. It was after I had my second Gu at mile 20 that my stomach really started to revolt.

Anyway, I got back on course and started up the last of the giant hills. Now I had no one to talk to. I turned on the gas to try to reach the pace group, but it just wasn't going to happen. Again, like the Pig, it was a matter of willing myself not to walk. I thought about why we were there on the base, thought about people who were enduring pain much worse than I was, and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. The 4:00 pace group was *right* in front of me. I still had a chance, but I watched it slip away. I just couldn't close the gap. I knew as soon as I saw them cross the line mere seconds ahead of me that I had missed my goal.

So close. So fucking close. And yes, I should just be happy that I did it, that I ran 26.2 (26.49, according to garmins everywhere) freaking miles, that I have the ability and the health and the guts to go for it, but I was just so disheartened. I shook the hand of the Air Force guy who presented me with a medal and thanked him for his service. And then I cried. I'm not exactly proud of that fact, but I'm willing to admit it.

I stood in the super-slow-moving food line sipping on water (stomach still not pleased with me). I managed to bend over enough to untie my shoes, and that was sweet freaking relief. I wanted to get my flip flops from the bag check, but first I needed to know just how close I came, so I hit up the results tent first. I got my little time printout and saw the 10 seconds dangling off the end. 10 seconds. I may have shed another tear in disappointment. Don't judge me too harshly, it was a very emotional day for me.

Thankfully, while I was hobbling over to bag check I ran into my good friend Rachel and her husband Dave, who had just run the Half Marathon. It was so good to see a familiar face. They had even brought their infant son Julian, so I got to peek at him, too. How can you not smile when you see a baby? Dave did a great job in the Half. I was probably a little bitchy, because I was disappointed and hungry and tired and wanted to puke, so I couldn't even satiate that hunger. So I'm sorry, Dave, that I made such a horrible first impression. But he did friend me on Facebook, so I couldn't have been that bad... right?

I said my goodbyes so that they could get the baby home, and started searching for my Running Buddy. I didn't have the energy to shove through the crowds at the finish, so I settled for watching through the food tent and did actually get to see her cross the line. She looked great, for just having run 26.2 miles! Sweaty hugs for everyone :)



So, all in all, it was a fantastic experience. The course was awesome, minus the giant hill at the end. It was really crazy to be out running on an airport runway. The finish area was the best part, because the lanes were flanked by planes. That was really cool.



The crowd support and organization and volunteers completely rocked it.

The medals? Well, they're gigantic, and detailed, and really, really pretty.



Charlie said it looks like something Flava Flav would wear. He may be right.

What's even cooler is that the marathon was also held at deployed locations all over the world, so that active military members were able to participate.



I'll definitely be back next year.

But then there's that whole issue of the ten fucking seconds. And that's how I'll always refer to them, the f-word-as-adjective included. Sure, cognitively, I know that I did it, because I can just subtract the potty break. But that leading 3 will never be a part of my official time.

And that's why I might be signing up for the Columbus Marathon tomorrow, after I take a test run on these legs tonight. Best case scenario - I officially break four hours. Worst case? I run another marathon. Either way, I come out ahead of the game :)

Official Stats



Distance MAR
Clock Time 4:01:18
Chip Time 4:00:10
Overall Place 672 / 2513
Gender Place 125 / 744
Division Place 22 / 120

Cheetah Run - 5K Recap

What better way to spend birthday morning than running a 5K?

Oh, I don't know, maybe NOT getting up before the asscrack of dawn to drag a cranky husband and toddler down to the zoo to watch you run said 5K?

I decided that I wanted to do the Cheetah Run this year. I almost did it last year, and it would have been my first race, ever. After Sunday, if I had done the Cheetah Run last year I might have sold off my running shoes and given up on trying to be a runner, altogether.

Why?

Two words: Holy. Hills.

As my running buddy said, "if I had to design the cruelest 5k course ever, it would look something like that!"

Don't get me wrong, I knew there were going to be hills. The hilly reputation is known far and wide. What I didn't know was just how long and steep those hills were going to be. I was expecting the hills in the zoo, but I thought they would be gentle, rolling hills that I would handle with grace and swiftness. I wasn't expecting the gigantic ass-kickers of hills that were waiting for us outside of the zoo gates. Grace and swiftness went out the window. Instead, there was huffing and puffing and gasping for air and spitting (so that I didn't puke) and R-rated-mantra-repeating (more on that in another post). Plus, I stopped to walk when I got my cup of water. I needed that water. Turns out I could have used those 10 seconds at the end, but whatevs. I'm alive.

When the dust settled and I didn't feel like keeling over anymore, I finished in 26:22:00. I didn't even halve my 10K time, which makes me feel kind of crappy, but then I remind myself that there were hills on this course, and I had run 15 miles on my legs the day before, and I start to feel a little less bad. Besides, I still finished 31/686 women. I guess that's not too bad. And we were all schooled by the women's winner, who was a TEN YEAR OLD GIRL. That's right, we were all outrun by a kid. She was speedy, no doubt.

Looks like I've got some work to do to meet one of my 30 by 30 goals. Next time I'll pick a flatter course. Do they make courses that are all downhill?

But look how excited I am to be 30!



Here is me posing with Charlie after my race and his Cheetah Cub Run. He was SO proud of his ribbon, but he wouldn't come anywhere near me. "Don't touch me, Mama, you're wet and yucky!"



Moral of the story: Cheetah Run is a wolf in sheep's clothing. Cute tech shirt, tough course.

Do You Yasso?

Yasso 800s were discovered by a guy named (what else?) Bart Yasso.



I guess in the running community he's some kind of BFD, but what do I know? I've only been part of the community for a short time, so his name doesn't have the power over me. Yet.

The exercise involves running a series of 10 800s (800 meters, that is). In between each 800, you jog for the same amount of time it took you to run the 800 (for example, if it takes you 5 minutes to run the 800, you would jog for 5 minutes before the next one). It's both a marathon speedwork exercise and a marathon time prediction tool. According to Yasso, the time for your 800s will predict your marathon finishing time. If it takes you 5:00 to run each 800, then your marathon time will be 5 hours. If it takes you 2:50 to run each 800, then your marathon time will be 2 hours, 50 minutes. Get it? You're supposed to start these workouts a few months before your marathon, beginning with 4 800s and adding another one every week until you're up to 10. The final week is supposed to be 2 weeks before the marathon, though the Runner's World article says 14-17 days is ideal, which I find weirdly specific.

Now, I can't say that I was a disciplined Yasso follower. I followed the Run Less, Run Faster plan, which did incorporate a lot of 800s, but also included speedy 400s, 1200s, and 1600s. Wednesday was 17 days before the marathon, and I had 8 800s on my RLRF schedule, so I decided to just go ahead and add two more and see how the complete session of Yasso 800s went. I think they went pretty well. My times for the 10 speed intervals were: 3:45/3:45/3:45/4:00/3:55/3:53/3:50/3:50/3:48/3:00 (though I really pushed it on the last interval and kind of felt like I was going to die). I also didn't rest as long in between because it was 8:30 by the time I started and I was tired. According to the method, I should be able to hit my 4-hour goal.


Whether you buy the science behind Yasso 800s or not, it's still speedwork. Still not totally confident that I can hit the 4:00 mark, but I'm sure going to give it all I've got! 17 days to go!

You have GOT to be Kidding Me

Or, "Why Speedwork isn't Always Your Friend."

Ladies who have been pregnant (and male counterparts of ladies who have been pregnant, and friends of ladies who have been pregnant, and people who have read about pregnancy) know that making it through 40 weeks of pregnancy without stretch marks is something to brag about. But not something to brag about **too** loudly, lest you become one of "those women."

I am was one of those women. My body is far from perfect, but I've been spared the stretch marks. According to "The Experts," I can thank my ancestors for good skin elasticity genes.

So I've been doing these speedwork exercises as part of the "Run Less, Run Faster" program that I'm following (I'm sure that will be its own post later on), and, as "speedwork" would imply, there's a lot of short distance sprinting at a pace much faster that I'm used to. Sprinting uses and builds muscles differently from running longer distances at a slower pace, so I've suddenly got some nice upper leg muscles going on. Based on this random leg muscle diagram, it appears to be my Tensor Fasciae Latae and my Rectus Femoris that are benefiting most (or maybe not, I'm not an anatomy and physiology expert. whatever happened to quads and hamstrings?).



Great, huh? Well, yes, until I spotted a small web of stretch marks a few inches below my hipbone, right on the spot where that "Tensor Fasciae Latae" supposedly is.

WTF? Exercising is supposed to make you look better, not give you stretchmarks!

Baby Got Back

I'm oddly shaped. Always have been, always will be. Most people look at me and consider me to be on the slender side. Skinny, even. But I've got a big secret, that I'm somewhat good at hiding - I pack a whole lotta junk in my trunk. I usually wear a size small on top and a size large on the bottom. That's right, size L-A-R-G-E undies grace my tush. As Sir Mix-A-Lot would say, I'm "Little in the middle but I got much back."

I used to obsess over hiding it. Not going to lie, sometimes it still annoys me when I can't fit cute pants over my ample derriere, and I'm still not a huge fan of the "cottage-cheese jello look" or the fact that my butt keeps shaking long after the rest of me has stopped moving, but I'm trying to learn to embrace it. I mean, really - my legs carried me over the finish line of a freaking marathon, and my hips are just a battle scar of motherhood.



Shake that healthy butt!

A Song that is a Guilty Pleasure

So, back on my life blog, I tried to do a weekly blog post on the 30 Day Song Challenge. I kept it up for a while, but no one wanted to play along, so it recently died. I'm sad about it. Maybe I'll keep doing it alone, anyway. My favorite week was "A Song that is a Guilty Pleasure," and since it relates directly to running, here it is!

I chose this week's topic in honor of my marathon playlist, which also happens to be the reason for the lateness of this week's blog post. I know, I should have been a good blogger and written it ahead of time, but my mind was full of marathon-weekend excitement. More on that to come later this week!

My running playlist is hard evidence that I'm stuck in the 90s. I have everything from Beastie Boys to Kris Kross, Young MC to MC Hammer, Salt and Peppa to Vanilla Ice. And those aren't my guilty pleasures. I'm not the tiniest bit ashamed to admit that I totally rock out to Sisqo and Sir Mix-a-Lot while I run up the steep hills of Cincinnati.

Nope, not one little bit. In fact, I've even been known to get up and do my own rendition of Ice, Ice Baby on Karaoke night.

So what DOES constitute a guilty pleasure for me?

Ke$ha. Yes, Ke$ha. The "dollar sign girl." I remember the first time I heard one of her songs on the radio - it was that god-awful one about brushing teeth with bottles of jack and going for guys who look like Mick Jagger. I thought to myself "Who IS this lady, and WTF is WRONG with her??"

Then I saw her on TV, and my confusion grew.



It was like Mungojerrie meets Jem and the Holograms.



But after a while, I found myself tapping my hands on the steering wheel and singing along. Oh, no.

Then I heard it. "Take it Off." A total party song that I just KNEW my old clubberific roommate from college would have been all over if it had only been on the radio 10 years earlier.

And it was catchy. And it had a beat. A great beat for running. A great energy for running hills. And oh my goodness, it was so much fun to turn the car stereo speakers up way louder than a 29-year-old should and sing along to the (pretty awful) lyrics. (not with Charlie in the car, of course)

So here it is, for your amusement.



Because come on, we all know of a place that fits the description. Glitter on the floor? I'm so there. Well, not really. In fact, maybe I like this song so much because I never was a clubberific party girl. My roommate would spend her Friday and Saturday nights getting all dressed up in tube tops and halters, heavy eye-shadow, curlers, blah blah blah. I was perfectly content to drink cheap keg beer with the guys across the street, who were much more Dave Matthews than Ke$ha.

In real life, you'd be hard-pressed to get me to admit that I'm a closet Ke$ha fan. Please don't tell my husband that I spent 99 cents to download the single. He still thinks it was Rage Against the Machine.

Race Recap - Little Miami Half Marathon

I had a 15 mile long run on my training schedule for this past weekend. My Running Buddy, being that she's also training for the Air Force Marathon, had one, too. She emailed me to tell me about a local half marathon that she had found, and the idea of running a long run with a hundred other people rather than suffering along in solitary silence appealed to me, so I signed right up.



We met in the parking lot at 6:00. Packet pick-up was at 6:30 and the race was supposed to start at 7:30. I say "supposed to" because they had to push back the start time thanks to a porta-potty mishap - 3 porta-potties just weren't sufficient for the crowd that showed up to run. Mr. Running Buddy came along and ran the 10K, and it was very nice to meet him in person.

I had two goals for this race:

1. Get the sub-2 hour half marathon that I knew I could pull off
2. Don't kill my legs in the process.

I was pretty confident that under most circumstances I could maintain an average 9:09/mile pace, but I was wary of the humidity. It wasn't super hot, but it was warm with threats of rain and we were right next to a river. I decided that I'd give it a shot and just see how things went.

So we got to the park, got our bibs and tech shirts, and then got in the bathroom line. In hindsight, the bathrooms should have been our first stop - by the time we got in line it was a mile long. I guess there was some issue with the park bathrooms not being opened on time, but it was frustrating to be stuck in line waiting while the minutes were counting down to starting time. We just barely made it to the starting line before they sent us off. Maybe next year that aspect will be planned a little better.

I started off well, if a little conservatively. It was a small trail, maybe 6 feet wide (or my measurement estimating ability is really bad), and there were 200-something people running the half plus a second group running the 10K. It was a little crowded while we all worked on settling into a happy pace.

We hit the first water stop around mile 2.5, and I had my first taste of the HEED electrolyte drink they were offering - a "natural*" version of gatorade, sweetened with Stevia. It was clear, and there was some cognitive dissonance going on when I knocked it back and tasted fruit punch. It was a nice flavoring effort, but it was NOT good. Weird aftertaste, too. Now I know. I brought my own gels, so I was spared from trying the HEED version, but Running Buddy took care of that experiment. I'll let you read her thoughts for yourself!

I did end up chatting with some guy for the next few miles, but he slowed way down at the next waterstop and I kicked it up a little, so I lost him. I even ran into an old friend of mine right around the turnaround point.

Thankfully, I never reached the point where I was tired and wanted to stop running. I did, however, reach the point where I was BORED and wanted to get it over with. I've decided that I definitely prefer urban races - this was just tree after tree after tree and green and brown and nothing interesting to look at. The trees thinned out around mile 9 and it was HOT and humid with the sun beating down. I had to play games with myself and struggle to resist constantly checking my garmin.

I even managed to change my running form around that time, trying to go with shorter strides but quicker steps, an exercise I've been trying to incorporate since the Smooth Running clinic I went to at the Running Spot. I need to find the discipline to run like that all the time, as I'm somewhat faster and don't get fatigued. Old habits die hard!

I saw the time clock at the finish right around the 12.8 mile mark, and it was like my legs just started churning of their own accord. I sprinted the heck out of that last .3 miles ;)

Check out my sweet splits!



I'm most proud of that 8:17 final mile, although at the end I got that ominous "OMG I'm going to puke when I stop" feeling that I had at the Reds Race. I guess I'm not meant to sprint. Hell, I'm just happy that I still had that kind of gas left in the tank. We even got finisher medals, which you know I love :)

I met my time goal of sub-2-hours, just barely - I squeaked in at 1:58:00 exactly - 85/277 overall, 18/88 women.




Here's me and my Running Buddy. The picture is small because it's from an iphone. Actually, that's probably not the reason, but I'm going to pretend it is. Droids 4-eva!



The day after, my mom called me and said "You ran a half marathon yesterday?!" She had seen my post on Facebook and was incredulous that I hadn't called to tell her. I guess that because I'm now so used to running distances even greater than that on a weekly basis, it just doesn't seem like a big deal anymore. Funny how what was once a major accomplishment for you is now just another weekend run. Marathon adrenaline will do that to you :)

* however "natural" any of those things can possibly be, when you're talking about powdered chemicals designed to quickly replenish drained electrolyte or carbohydrate stores

Hey, I Put Some New Shoes On, and Suddenly Everything is Right

Goodbye, clunky old ProGrids...




Helllllloooooooo Kinvaras!



I have been wanting lusting over these (much lighter) shoes for a long, long time. I've been going to the running store pretty much weekly to buy gels for my long runs, and I always stop over at the shoe wall to visit them, imagining the day when they would be able to come home with me to be my New Running Shoes. I'm at that point where there are only seven weeks standing between me and the Air Force Marathon - running low on time to get enough miles in so that I can wear these shoes for the race. Yesterday, they were finally mine. Tonight, I will run in them. And I'm so excited about running in them, that I just might run outside rather than on the treadmill, even though it will still be in the 90s at 8:00 this evening. I just. can't. wait.



As a bonus, the guy at the store taught me the "correct" way to tie my shoes so that they won't come untied while I run. Want me to share?




Also, big props to my running buddy, who survived her first Olympic-distance triathlon! Way to go! You can read about it on her blog. She almost had me convinced to do a mini tri with her next weekend, but I decided that shoes were more important :)

Race Recap - Redlegs Race for Home

I think I need to play the lottery - I'm now 4 for 4 in rain on raceday.

This past Saturday was the Redlegs Race for Home. "But Jene!" I can hear you thinking, "You're a YANKEE fan! What are you doing running the REDS race??" Well, I'll tell you what I was doing. I was going to run in the 5K with BFF, and then we were going to sit back and watch our kids run the "Gapper Kids' Fun Run" together. It was going to be my first 5K, so an automatic personal best. But Life got in the way, as it so often does, and BFF couldn't run the race with me, so I switched to the (much earlier) 10K. It lined up better with my marathon training, anyway.


My first Reds shirt. I've been here for 15 years and I've managed to go without. If it wasn't a nice dri-fit technical tee, I'd probably make it into a dishrag. Just kidding, BFF! They're my national league team ;)

I've only run one other 10K, back in February, and I finished with a time of 54:28. That was fast for me. Really fast. Not so fast in the world of running, but faster than I'm used to, especially since I'd been "seriously running" only a whopping 3 months by that point. I didn't think I'd be able to beat it, let alone beat it on a steamy summer morning, so I didn't really set much of a time goal for myself on this one. I was just going to run it and see what happened.

So we all lined up, some guy sang the national anthem, some lady counted down from 10, and we were off! The first mile flew by, and somewhere around the second mile marker I realized that I had a pretty damn good shot at a new PR. I was averaging 8:20/mile, much faster than the 8:38/mile of my previous race. Then at 2.5ish, my shoe came untied, and I lost 10 critical seconds stopping to tie it. My laces were soaked, and it took me three tries to get it right. But still, only ten seconds.

I saw the 6 Mile marker right after the trip back across the Ohio from Kentucky, and kicked it into high gear. I LOVE that adrenaline surge when you know the finish line is close! When I rounded the corner for the last .1 mile, I looked up and saw that I had a shot at making it in under 52 minutes, so I found an even higher gear and sprinted across the finish line, where I promptly started looking for a trash can to puke in. There were none to be found - I was looking frantically around for a place to leave my breakfast that wouldn't ruin anyone's shoes. In the time it took me to rush over to the wall by the river, the nausea had passed, and I was ok.

My official time was 51:49, good enough for 15th of 146 in my division. I guess Insanity and speed training have really paid off.

No good race pics, just these thumbnails that I stole from the web. Yes, I wore my Yankee hat in the Reds race. It's my rainy day good luck charm.

TinyPic?! More like TeenyPic!!



I'm in trouble, though. I'm definitely addicted to the medals that you get in marathons. Ice cream cups pale in comparison.

Insanity is a Humbling Experience

18 days ago, I ran 26.2 miles in 4:13:00. A week later, we popped in Disk 1 of the Insanity workout program. I felt pretty good about my fitness level and my endurance. I was about to have my ass handed to me.

If you're not familiar with Insanity, it's another program from the Beachbody people, the company that produced my beloved P90X. Insanity is a completely different type of hell than either P90X or marathon running. It's based on High Intensity Interval Training, which roughly translates to "Shaun T is going to make you work until you can't feel your legs and you melt, a whimpering heap, into the puddles of sweat that have collected on your basement floor."



These workout tapes are deceptive. The first month includes a set of workouts that are only about 40 minutes long. 40 minutes of cardio work? That's nothing. I can do that in my sleep. Yeaaaaaah, not so much.

The program started with a tape called Plyometric Cardio Circuit. Yes, PLYOMETRICS. The same type of exercise that caused me great embarrassment during P90X. We pushed play, and Shaun T started right in with the workout. We jogged in place, did a million jumping jacks, a million more heisman plyo moves, some heisman 123s, butt kicks, high knees, and mummy kicks. We finished the first circuit, which was about 3 minutes worth of ass-kicking, and then got a 30 second water break. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. 10 minutes and two repetitions later, and I'm already soaking wet from head to toe and ready to die. And that was just the warm up. 30 minutes later, we were ending with Level 1 Drills - stand up, jump your feet back into plank, do 4 push-ups, 8 counts of plank run, jump your feet back in, jump up, and repeat until you puke.

Like this, but he's doing it very slowly for the purposes of demonstration.



We won't even talk about the Skis and In and Outs.

Wow. WOW. I thought I was in better shape than that.

Because I've been asked, I haven't decided if I'm going to blog about Insanity the way I did about P90X. I'm leaning more toward doing some kind of "Fitness Friday" theme, more generic posts about things I'm doing and things I like and articles that I've read about health and fitness. Maybe every other week. It's something that I find interesting, but not something that I'd want to dedicate an entire blog to. Besides, I'm not really all that hard-core. I still like to sit on my couch and watch TV and eat junk food. And drink beer. Can't forget about the beer.

Marathon Recap Part 3 - The Longest 10K

Note: This was the part of the race that really took a toll on me, mentally. I scribbled down as much as I could the evening of the race, so that I wouldn't forget all of the raw emotions (defeat and elation and everything in between) swirling around in my head. I left it all in there for this post, including the plethora of f-bombs, because I obviously felt, at the time, that certain points needed that emphasis. Besides, I'm from Jersey. That's how we roll.

There was a water stop just past Mile 20. I reached for the cup, my legs slowed down, and I suddenly found myself walking. It felt completely involuntary, like my body was entering survival mode and forcing me to slow down, regardless of what my brain and heart wanted it to do. Walking?!?! Are you kidding me? I'm here to RUN a marathon, not to WALK it! But that water tasted so good, and I knew that I was making the best choice. I counted 20 steps and then forced myself to start running again. One foot in front of the other. Just keep moving forward. I thought to myself, "You have gone through CHILDBIRTH! If you can do that, you can do ANYTHING!" But for that, at least I had an epidural.

A little farther up the road, I saw one of the Spot coaches running in my direction. I croaked out "I need help!" as he passed, and he quickly darted over and matched my (pathetic) pace. He asked what was wrong, and I realized that I didn't even know how to answer him. "I'm tired."

That's the best you can do? No shit you're tired, you've been RUNNING for 20 miles. "I just need someone to talk to."

And that was the truth. Even though there were hundreds and hundreds of people lining the streets, I needed someone who KNEW what I was going through. Someone who had been to the wall and back, someone who had lived to tell about it. He ran with me for a few minutes, telling me that it was almost over and that I was going to finish and it was going to be great. He handed me off to a second coach when he got to the end of his territory. The second coach was just as awesome. He asked me if it was my first marathon, and I said yes. He reminded me that most people don't even bother to start training for marathons, let alone actually run them. He told me that I was making great time for my first marathon. Everything I needed to hear. Then he suggested that I consider walking through the water stops, so that I could make sure I wasn't getting dehydrated. I almost cried with relief - "I have been!" I practically shouted. He gave me a high five and sent me on my way. I weakly jogged up a sad little hill just before Mile 22 and walked through that waterstop, too. Then I pushed myself to start running again. That was what I had been afraid of - that once I started walking, I would never be able to start running again. But I did. I walked through two more waterstops at Miles 23 and 24, my knees cramping with every step - it was a brutal irony, when I walked my knees were absolutely killing me - running made them feel better, but oh god, it was so hard. It was also extremely disheartening to watch my average pace climb from a 9:10 to a 9:40, and seeing the 10-minute miles start popping up on my Garmin was just horrible. But I had to finish. I couldn't come this far and then give up. I couldn't come this far, and tell this many people, and set this lofty of a goal, and then fall short. I was going to drag my ass across that finish if it fucking killed me.

Somewhere on Eastern Avenue, deep in the weeds.


I eventually passed the 25 Mile marker, and I knew that the Finish Line was within reach. There was one more short hill, so I massaged my knees and forced my legs to start moving faster. The hill is barely a blip on the elevation chart, but it felt like I was trying to run up Mount Fucking Everest. I made it up the hill, and passed the 26 Mile marker.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

FINALLY. And it was right.freaking.there. I wanted to stop so badly, wanted to just slow down and crawl, or, even better, lay down in the street, but I told myself YOU WILL NOT WALK ACROSS THE FINISH LINE. YOU HAVE COME TOO FAR TO FAIL. YOU WILL RUN ACROSS THE FINISH LINE.

Me at Mile 26


I had tunnel vision. By the time I heard Charlie yelling out to me from the side of the road, just before the finish line, it was too late and I was already passing him by. I looked over just in time to see him cheering me on with Toddler Charlie in the stroller. I think I tried to yell back to him, maybe even tried to wave, but I don't think anything intelligible came out. Then all of a sudden I saw the blue timing mats only steps away from me, and I did the only logical thing - I raised my hands in the air and screamed yelped in victory relief.



And crossed the line. I looked up to see my BFF waiting there for me, having already finished her leg of the relay. I gave her a giant, sweaty, gross hug (more accurately, I probably just collapsed on her in what I thought was a hug - sorry, Alison!) and told her that I was never going to run another marathon again.

I got my medal and my lovely tinfoil jacket, and then I saw FOOD. OMG! Food is the BEST THING EVER! Poor Alison didn't know what she was in for, waiting around for me to finish. I couldn't decide what I wanted to eat, so I made her go to every table to see what they had. I grabbed a banana and a bag of sun chips. SUN CHIPS! I LOVE SUN CHIPS! BEST EVER! But then I saw HO HOs! OMG! HO HOS ARE THE BEST FOOD EVER INVENTED!! I completely devoured them, not even bothering to take them out of the package. Just tore the top off and did the best I could. (I don't even like Ho Hos.) We got our picture taken together and then we went in search of our bags.


(it's ok to post this, I'm buying a copy)

The bag pick-up felt like another mile away. I don't know who put it all the fucking way out in the middle of nowhere, but I was cursing his name by the time we found it. All I wanted to do was to take my shoes off. I grabbed my stuff and then sat down on the ground. Holy cow, sitting down was the BEST THING EVER INVENTED! My flip flops weren't sitting right on top, so I did the obvious thing and turned my bag upside down to dump everything out until I found them. I ripped off my shoes and socks and had to literally pull my toes apart to get the flip flops on. That's how cramped they were. But OMG, sweet fucking relief. Fuck the HoHos, FLIP FLOPS ARE THE BEST THING EVER INVENTED!!!!

And that's about where it ends. I hobbled home and took a nap, then went out to dinner to celebrate with my family. I was moving slower than my 75-year-old grandmother, who was also in attendance. I had a Stella and some deep dish pizza. Yum. By the end of the day, my declaration that I would never run another marathon was a fuzzy memory, and I had already texted my running buddy to start talking about training for the US Air Force Marathon coming up in September. Yes, I AM that crazy.



A week later, and I'm going through some serious Marathon Withdrawal. I did it, and I can do it again, and this time I can do it better! It was so much fun, and I get so nostalgic when I drive those roads to get to work. I think about where I was and what I was feeling and what it was like to be a part of that energy. And this is where I have to, again, mention the crowd support. There were tons of people out all along the stretch of Eastern Avenue and Riverside Drive where I thought I was going to meet the end of my marathon dreams. They just kept shouting and yelling and telling us that we could do it! Calling us out by name, telling us not to give up, telling us that we looked great. At one point I even laughed, knowing that they were totally full of shit on that one. I certainly did not look great. I felt like I was going to collapse, and I'm sure the agony was reflected in my face and body language. I knew my posture was total crap at that point. But they cheered, all the same. It was amazing. There were belly dancers, people in costumes, groups handing out hawaiian leis and flashing peace signs, a guy channeling Sinatra, and a house that was serving Jager and donuts.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)


Of course, I had to make it official as soon as I got home.




When all was said and done, it took me 4:13:00 to run the course. I was 84/326 in my age division (women 25-29), 376/1785 for all women, and 1428/4298 overall. The average finishing time was 4:38:32. Pretty much everyone I trained with was way off their goals, and they all blamed it on the humidity. Even the most seasoned runners, with multiple marathons under their belts. I beat myself up about it for a few days, but I'm over it now. There is no doubt that I left it ALL out there. I couldn't have pushed any harder than I did. And that's what matters.

I finished 7 minutes faster than my "A" goal of 4:20:00, but 6 minutes slower than my "B" goal of 4:07. We're not even going to talk about my "C" goal, except to say that I fully expect to reach it at the USAF Marathon on September 17th! 130 days to go :)

Marathon Recap Part 2 - The Drive, the Pig Pens, and the First 20 Miles

Did I mention how awesome my family is? No? Well, they are. My aunt and grandmother flew in from New Jersey to cheer me on at the Flying Pig. Not only did they make the 600-mile trip, but their plane was delayed and they didn't get to their hotel until 3:00 Saturday morning. That didn't stop my Auntie Ann from getting up with me at 4:00 to drive me down to the Starting Line. She picked me up at 4:45 and we were on our way. I forced myself to eat my waffle, even though my stomach was doing backflips. It felt like I was eating sawdust. I checked the weather again. The rain was definitely headed our way.

When we got downtown, I hopped out of the car and went to find the bag check buses. Ann continued on to find my mom, because they were planning on following me around the city so that they could cheer for me at various points on the course. I knew that I would also be seeing my BFF around Mile 6 and my Running Buddy around Mile 14. I checked my stuff and then made my way toward the stadium to meet up with my running group. We wrote our names on strips of neon duct tape to stick to our race bibs, monitored the rainfall, and tied and re-tied our shoes while we chatted nervously about our plans for the race.

When 6:30 started to draw closer, we made our way out of the stadium and down toward the start corrals, or Pig Pens. My projected finish time of 4:00-4:30 earned me a place in Pig Pen C. As we made our way through the crowds, we heard the opening ceremonies begin. I panicked about not being in my Pig Pen and briefly considered hopping the fence, but then images of broken legs and sprained ankles shook me out of it, and I just kept going until I found an opening in the fence. "Blah blah blah, national anthem, blah blah blah, 30 SECONDS TO START!!, blah blah blah, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! I don't even remember if there was a start gun or not.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

All I knew was that the crowd began to move forward. We shuffled along, foot by foot, slowly picking up the pace, until we were RUNNING! I crossed the Starting Line and hit the Garmin. Holy Cow! I'm running a fucking marathon!


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

All of a sudden I was overcome with emotion and excitement, and I could feel my eyes starting to sting. I heard someone calling my name, and looked over to see my mom, her boyfriend, and my aunt waving and yelling from the crowd. I gave them a shout as I passed by. We were off! The first mile ticked away as we started over the first bridge. I looked down at my Garmin - right on track. I tried to take it all in - the excitement of the crowd, the shouts from the spectators, the fact that I was just one of thousands of people hauling ass through the streets of Cincinnati. I try and try to remember it, but it's all a blur. I was flying high.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

Second mile ticked by, and I was really happy with my pace. I kept telling myself over and over "Just keep it consistent. You don't have to push. Slow down a little, you'll need it at the end." Shortly after Mile 3, when we were crossing the Clay Wade Bailey Bridge, I knew that I was going to go for it. I was going to give it everything I had and try for that miracle 4:00 finish.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

It was still cool and rainy, but it was just the perfect combination for running a long, long way. We passed the bread factory, and I remember one of the other runners commenting about how good it smelled. So warm and inviting. Garmin beeped to tell me that we had gone 5 miles, and it was time to eat. I pulled out my Chomps and choked them down, grabbing a cup of water at the next stop. Hmm, that didn't feel quite right, I thought, as my stomach cramped up for a moment and I thought I was going to be sick. But I kept going, and the yucky feeling passed. I knew the hills were just ahead, and I kept reminding myself to slow down, take them slow. "Equal effort, not equal pace!" BFF would be waiting for me at the top of the first big hill, and then after that there would be one more steep climb before the rest was all downhill.

We turned the corner and I saw Gilbert Ave Hill looming large in front of me. The climb began. There was a band playing under the cover of the Greyhound Station at the base of the hill. I thought of my sister and wished she had been able to make the trip, too. There was a water stop towards the top of the first hill leg, staffed by a local running club. There was one big guy rapping for us - "It's Ga-to-RADE, Ga-to-RADE, Ga-to-RADE, in the GREEN cup!" I laughed out loud as I passed. I laughed even harder when I saw Spider Man handing out water cups.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

I started looking for my BFF as we ran into Eden Park. I was kind of sad to see that the relay station was ridiculously crowded, and I realized that I didn't stand a chance in hell at picking her out of the crowd, or vice versa. Onward! I turned my attention to the next piece of the climb, still reminding myself to slow down and take it easy. I was on the right track. Made it up to the top of the hill, and completely forgot to look to my right so that I could catch the amazing city view. I totally missed the most picturesque part of the course.

Me at Mile 6.5


Another mile of incline, and the worst of the course was over! The Half/Full Marathon split was just ahead, too. I got a high five from a spectator wearing a giant blue wig and holding a "High Five Guy" sign, then turned right at the split to follow the Full Marathon course.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

It felt good! I'm really doing it! I'm really running a marathon! And I'm going to smash my time goal, too! We ran past the Running Spot store, the home of my training group, where I got a high five from the guy in the Spot costume.

Then it was into Hyde Park.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

I had picked up the pace a bit after the hills, and was still right on track to meet my goal. Garmin reminded me that it was time to eat, so I grabbed my second bunch of Chomps and went to town. Again, my stomach started bubbling and I instantly felt sick. Well, that's not good. I concentrated really hard on not puking and managed to pull through, but I was stuck - I needed that stuff to get through the race! I only ate half of them, figuring I'd be ok for a little while longer.

Me at Mile 12ish


Hyde Park came and went, including the super steep but mercifully short Paxton Hill and the 13.1 mile marker. Whee! Halfway there! Right on pace, too, with an average of 9:18/mile. Perfectly set up for negative splits and on track to meet all three of my time goals. Oh my, how wrong I was.

We headed into Mariemont. Around a few corners, up another short and steep hill, and then I saw my Running Buddy! Well, actually, I saw her car before I saw her. I smiled when I saw her triathalon bike stuffed into the backseat. I could hear her yelling - "Is that my Running Buddy?? It is!" She was carrying a "Free Hugs" sign, and at that point there was nothing that I needed more than a Free Hug. I had just tried to eat again, and my stomach was still staging a revolt. But I was too afraid to stop for a hug, because I thought that if I stopped running, I would never start again. And I still had a long way to go. 11 Miles, to be exact. The rain had stopped, and a sticky humidity was settling in to take its place. And it was hot. 65 degrees. Which doesn't sound very hot, but when you add in the humidity and the fact that we were on a fucking marathon course, it was HOT. Someone was handing out twizzlers, and I grabbed one in desperation, hoping that my stomach wouldn't reject the innocent candy the way it had rejected my Chomps. Complete failure. Even worse, my mouth was so dry that I could barely even chew the damn thing. I did something I never do - I threw it on the ground. I'm sorry, course clean-up crew - the mere smell of that cherry twizzler had me on the verge of throwing up. Please forgive me.

A little loop around town square, an obnoxiously steep hill in the worst place possible, and suddenly we were heading into the most difficult part of the course - Mile 17.5 and on was nothing but a looooooooooong stretch of flat road. I tried, again, to eat - one last ditch effort to get some kind of food calories in my body - but again, I couldn't manage to choke down more than one. I knew I was starting to get dehydrated, too. I never had quite mastered the whole drinking while running skill. I knew that I wasn't getting nearly enough water. I was sweating a ridiculous amount, but it had started letting up. I was covered in cakey salt. The humidity felt like it was pressing in on me, and I needed water in a bad way. The only option left was to walk through the next waterstop. It was coming up soon, after the 20-mile marker.