Category Archives: Running Experiences

Personal Running Experiences

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Treadmill Overload

When I first became serious about exercising during my college years (I won’t tell you how long ago that was), I actually joined a gym down the street from the house I shared with three other crazy girls.  One of those girls also had some interest in exercise, and I now know that exercise can be contagious if you poke and prod enough.  So, my exercise schedule at the time went pretty much like this:  whenever I felt like going to the gym I would go.  I’m not quite sure how often that happened, but I think it was enough to keep me going.  I would walk in and stare at the equipment without any plan in mind.  “Yeah, that stairclimber looks good for today.  Maybe I will do 20 minutes on that”… and then 10 minutes later: “oh, maybe just 10 minutes.”  Then I would move on to the next thing and maybe try out a weight machine or two.  You wouldn’t catch me in the free weights room.  I had no idea what was going on in there and I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of the hunky men and ripped ladies.

Every once in a while I would walk in and glance at the treadmill.  Sometimes I would actually get on it and get the conveyor belt moving…. slightly.  “Oh what the heck, lets bump it up to 3 mph!”  I was rockin’ that treadmill!  Or so I thought.  It took some time, but eventually I thought that maybe I could try running on the treadmill.  So I would run and then I would walk and then I would run some more.  All I knew was that if I wanted to run then I had to be on a treadmill.  Okay, once in a great while I would take a run around the little lake near my school.  But I couldn’t bear to run outside when I could actually see my breath.  I just remember the sensation of burning lungs.  That didn’t make any sense to me.  And why would anyone even dare to run in the snow?  That just seemed crazy.  I was fine skiing in the snow, but you wouldn’t catch me falling on my butt while trying to run.  I had enough problems walking to my car when the parking lot would freeze over.

So, to keep this long story short, if I wanted to run then I searched out that treadmill.  For a few years it was all I really knew.  Even when I became interested in running more, my husband and I went out to buy our very own treadmill to keep in our home.  How convenient was that?  I didn’t have to use that jogging stroller that we purchased to push around our new baby.  That just seemed like too much work.  The treadmill was easy and there was less gear required and I didn’t have to worry about the weather conditions outside.  It was usually either too hot, too cold, too windy or too rainy anyway.

All of sudden there was a turning point in this treadmill business.  I found a running buddy and we would often go to the gym to run on the treadmill, but I would get upset if we were unable to locate two empty treadmills that were side by side.  “Hey” I thought “why don’t we try running outside?”  My running buddy could care less if we ran inside on the treadmill of if we ran outside.  Since we were training for our first half-marathon I told her that I couldn’t see us running 11 miles on a treadmill.  It was starting to get boring. There are only so many magazines to read and t.v. shows to watch.

After our first few outdoor excursions, I realized what I was missing out on.  Running outside actually seemed easier than running on a treadmill and I actually felt like I was going somewhere (because I was)!  My story is getting long again, so I will just tell you this:  I am now in love with running outside and I dread running on the treadmill.  I could care less (okay, I do complain sometimes) about whether it is too cold (hey, it gave me an excuse to buy running pants and long-sleeve shirts) or too hot and humid (I am still trying to get used to this, but at least I would rather try this than stay inside with the air conditioning if it means running on the treadmill).  Now the only thing that keeps me inside is…. wait for it…. KIDS!  What about that jogging stroller you say?  Well, I have two little ones to lug around and my jogging stroller only holds one.  I can get away with it sometimes, but I also have to worry about their comfort when I take them along. When I have my husband around, then it isn’t an issue because I can say “here you go” and then run out the door. Yet, this past month has been that of treadmill overload.  I have no choice but to factor in the kids when I plan my trips to the gym or when I decide to jump on the treadmill at home (yes, the same treadmill we have had for about 6 years).   I see people running on the sidewalk through my neighborhood as I drive my daughter to school in the morning and I feel a tad jealous.  Not too much longer and I will be out there again… running the streets like I was meant to.  Did I mention that I miss those darn bridges?!

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Run to Remember

I am dedicating this post to my friend.  A friend who has been through far too many unfortunate circumstances.  A friend who was there to give me the nudge I needed in order to make the smallest of sacrifices for something greater than myself.   He once told me that my sacrifice of limiting my pizza and beer intake the night before a long run (yeah, not even a big deal in the larger scheme of things) was well worth the cause that I was running for.  And he understands this more than most because of his own connection to the cause.

One of the reasons why I started running again last year was to raise money for cancer research through the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.  When I joined and started training, I never expected to meet such a great group of people.  People were there walking and running long distances in order to make a difference. Running became more than my own personal sanctuary.  I wasn’t just running for myself.  I think I sometimes lost sight of this and it became more of an inward movement.  Then something would happen or someone would share a story and I would once again be turned outward.

The next season for Team in Training is fast approaching.  Once again, I will be running so that others may live and I will be encouraging others to do the same.  Not only that, but we will be running to keep the memories alive for those who are no longer with us.  It isn’t easy to reach this depth during a run, but reflection tends to seep into our thoughts.  More often than not, I think about how lucky I am for what I have regardless of what challenges have presented themselves to me throughout my lifetime.

I run so that I may live.  I also run so that others may live.  When it is too late, all I have left to offer is the the promise that  I will run so that the memories of those not with us can be remembered.

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The Next Generation

Okay, so most of you know by now that my mother was a runner.  I am sure she is still a runner wherever she is right now because I would only imagine a place where pure happiness outranks any other emotion. Thanks to her, I am now a runner.  And as fate would have it, my daughter appears to be exploring the same road.

As I encouraged my daughter to do her first fun run with me a few months ago, I reflected back to when my mother “encouraged” me to run similar races.  Unfortunately, at that time, I considered running to be a form of torture (quite a different feeling now).  My mom, being as competitive as she was, may have pushed me too hard.  My memory is vague, but I don’t recall being ecstatic about finishing a race.  I also wasn’t at all interested in just running around the block for fun.  On top of that, I DREADED those mile runs we had to do in school for P.E.  Oh my gosh.  I was totally the one at the back of the pack walking as much as I possibly could until I was yelled at and told to “pick up the pace.”  Yep, your typical non-athletic school girl who was way more interested in reading books (and of course calling boys and hanging up when they answered).

In the athletic domain, my mother was the perfect example, yet I chose not to follow (at least not right away).  However, we now live in a society where children are becoming obese at an alarming rate and kids spend more time in front of the t.v. playing videos games or watching meaningless cartoons.  I guess after giving birth to my first child, I realized that I needed to set a good example and I would go beyond my parents to include the idea that smoking is not good for your and greasy or processed foods shouldn’t be served every night for dinner (sorry for that jab, but some things are just obviously unhealthy).

So, here I am, working hard to be a healthy mom for my kids.  I have to try even harder than most people because I want to ensure that I live longer than my mother did.  I want my kids to be healthy and be encouraged to do the activities that they enjoy.  Part of a job of a parent is allowing children to try out different activities and dismiss the ones that they do not enjoy.  When I first introduced my daughter to running, I wanted her to like it.  Obviously, I enjoy running so I naturally assumed that she would. However, after reflecting on my own childhood experiences, I realized that this may not be the case.  I had to open myself up to the idea that my daughter might not want to run.

I guess I can say that so far I am lucky.  I try not to be a pushy mom coach, but it does happen sometimes.  I have that strong sense of competitiveness that I sometimes need to push deep down inside until it is appropriate for me to bring it out.  I don’t want to be one of those moms who expect way too much and end up pushing their children over the edge.  However, there is nothing wrong with high expectations as long as you know the limits and are always thinking in the best interest of your children.

So, I encouraged my daughter to run and she ran.  Then, she took it upon herself to request more opportunities to run.  Naturally, I was thrilled and began signing her up for more races.  Actually, she just completed one on her own this past weekend.  She ran it without me and recorded her best time since she started running.  Well, that just tells me that this is all her.  She has become her own motivator.  I was just there to get the gears in motion… now she can move her legs and fly.   Maybe she will continue in this direction or maybe she will choose a different path, but my job, as mom, is to just let her go in whichever direction she chooses.

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Running Just to Be Me

As a veteran and a current military spouse, I know that the ability to remain flexible and open-minded is the key to survival in a world that constantly shifts.  Over a year and a half ago I was brought to Florida.  It was not by choice.  I was a very unhappy person.  I remember the day when my husband called me at work to tell me that it was official… we were moving to Florida.  I just hung up the phone and cried.  I could not believe that I was going to have to leave behind my family and friends and move all the way across the United States!  Needless to say, I would have been happy if they sent us to Alaska (that would have been about the same distance I suppose), but I was not having it with this Florida gig.  For one thing, I would choose cold, snowy weather over hot, humid weather any day.  Second, I am not a fan of big, ugly, nasty bugs.  Oh, I also don’t like the idea of snakes and alligators wandering through my yard!

It was a very depressing goodbye.  A tearful goodbye to one of my favorite towns.  Goodbye to the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Goodbye to a wonderful school to work at.  Goodbye to all of the parks and museums.  Goodbye to the quaint, little coffee shops that I adore.  Okay, you get the picture.  Saying goodbye sucked.

I know I did mention something about being flexible and open-minded.  I tried to think about the positive aspects of moving:  being able to buy a house, exploring new places, making new friends, actually being able to swim in the ocean without a wetsuit, wearing flip flops and tank tops year round, etc.  So, for the first few months, I focused on those things.  I even found a teaching job to keep me busy.  However, it wasn’t soon until I realized that there was a void I couldn’t fill.   To make a long story short, I was unhappy and didn’t know how to turn it around.  I couldn’t quite make the connections I needed to make.  I had my husband and my girls, but I needed something separate; I needed something that was just me.

Then, nearly a year later, I made a decision.  I told myself that I would once again become involved in Team in Training.  My goal:  to run a marathon.  Not only did I run a marathon and raise money for cancer research, but I was once again doing something I enjoyed and I was doing it for myself.  The added bonus was that I made great friends along the way.

I reflect back to this trying time because of what I did today.  Well, what do I do most days?  I run.  The different thing about today’s run was that I finally had a realization.  Today I realized that am lucky because I found my passion.  Not only did I find something that I enjoy doing, but I found a great friend who enjoys the same thing.  When my alarm went off this morning I was really hoping that I could just turn it off and forget the morning run.  Not that I didn’t want to run, but I just didn’t want to get out of bed.  However, that wasn’t an option for me since my friend was going to be at my house in 15 minutes.  When she arrived, she told me that she almost sent me a text at 2 am to tell me that she would be too tired for a run (since she was obviously still awake).  Yet, there we were, standing in my driveway, putting on our gear.  That’s when I realized that I am even more lucky that I had previously thought.  I have this friend who will push me forward and get me going in the right direction.  When I moved to Florida, I thought the world as I knew it would never be the same.  And it isn’t.  It shifted.  Yet, with flexibility and an open mind, I was able to regain my sense of belonging.

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My Mother

I have decided to dedicate this blog to my mother, Wendy.  She is no longer here to sign me up for races, to show me how to use the gym equipment and to encourage me to run with her around the block.  Those memories sound very pleasant, don’t they?  Actually, it was more like this:  My mom signed me up for races regardless of whether or not I wanted to walk or run any race and would drag me kicking and screaming to the car.  My mom would bore me with daily trips to the gym because she had no else to watch me while she did her workouts.  My mom would run ahead of me and tell me to keep moving as we went around a VERY LARGE block… it had a perimeter of at least 2 miles!  Yes, I was the complaining little girl and even more so as a teenager (so I hear, but I am not sure if I really believe it… I couldn’t have been anything shy of an angel).

Then it happened.  Wait for it… Yes, I grew up.  I became more active.  I actually LIKED exercising just a little.  Or maybe it was just the late teen period of freaking out because I thought I was getting fat.  Whatever… it worked.  I remember when my mom asked me to go with her to the Portland Marathon and watch her run.  She suggested that I participate in one of the shorter runs (like the 5K).  Surprisingly, I agreed without any complaint.  I was actually looking forward to seeing my mom in action.  I finally felt proud of her and her accomplishments.  I was so determined to go with her that weekend that I ended up having to quit my job.  For some reason the IHOP manager was not pleased when I asked for a weekend off.  Oh well, I was tired of smelling like pancakes anyway.  I hopped on a plane and flew to Oregon.

I remember the spaghetti dinner that night.  I didn’t quite understand why they were serving spaghetti, but it didn’t matter because I wasn’t too picky when it came to spaghetti (a different story now…).  In the hotel room that night, my mom laid out her clothes for the race and pinned on her race bib.  I don’t even remember what I brought to wear for my race.  I probably had a pair of cheap sneakers from Wal-Mart and cotton shorts and a cotton shirt.  Obviously, I was not yet a real runner.  The next morning I know we must have woken up early, but that part is foggy.  Since I was only nineteen, I would suspect that I was not an expert in early morning wake-ups (but now I am… ha!).  I was able to see my mom off to her starting line as I made my way to mine.  She gave me an approximate time to be at the finish line.  A few hours sounded like forever to me.  How could anyone run for that long??

I was just thankful that I was heading to my little 5K.  I was clueless to how far a 5K even was.  It couldn’t be that far.  I definitely don’t recall any training involved.  I do remember not having fun on the hilly portions of the course.  I think I was pretty much dying and wishing that it would end already.  Yep, I think I probably only felt relief when I crossed the finish line.  Somehow I mustered the energy to collect my seedling (yes, they were handing out little trees as prizes) and rest for a while before I had to get up and walk back to the finish line.  Soon enough, there she was.  My mom was crossing the finish line with a wide smile on her face.  I couldn’t understand how someone could smile after running 26.2 miles and then be happy limping around afterwards.  It made no sense to me at all.

Now it makes all the sense in the world.  Now I understand what my mom was feeling.  Now I know what it must have been like for her to lay in bed because her back pain would not allow her to walk, let alone run.  Now I know how I would feel if I could no longer run.  I have to keep going.  I have to make new goals.  I have to keep running in her memory.   By the time she was 44, she never saw me cross a finish line with a smile on my face.  By then, it was too late.  I can only hope that she is watching me now.  I hope that she is proud of the runner I have become.  I never thanked her for showing me how it’s done.