Tag Archives: running

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Like a Popsicle

Yeah, I know I was supposed to write about my ride in Grand Junction.  Sure, that was memorable.  I found out that the course had a few rolling hills, was covered in some cow poop, smelled awfully fowl of manure and nearly touched the Utah border… but that is probably all I need to say for now.  I will let you know more when I ride it during the race on May 18th so stay tuned for those details.

Today’s ride was a tad more interesting.  I had already planned to wake up early and endure a bike/run workout (also known as a brick workout to you triathletes).  I must say that I was rather accustomed to waking up to snow on the ground or maybe a fierce wind blowing across our backyard, but I was not really prepared for the layer of frost on our lawn chairs or on the windshield of my truck.  The weather report stated that it was just above freezing (maybe right at 33 degrees) so that was relatively warm in comparison to what we had been experiencing.  Needless to say, the frost did not make me feel any better.  As soon as I stepped outside I knew it was going to be a bitter cold kind of day until the sun decided to show its happy face (and that took longer than expected thanks to the clouds hovering in the sky).

Yet, I was already prepared and ready.  I just hoped that it would warm up a few degrees before I reached Boulder.  Well, that didn’t really happen.  I was one of the few stupid idiot cyclists who decided to start riding too early.  And who would’ve thought that 8:30 was too early?  It definitely wasn’t too early for the runners who were already out, but cyclists must endure a bit more wind due to the increased speed (unless you are a super fast runner who can attain a speed around 20 mph).  I am truly serious when I say that it must have been a “feels like 10 degrees” kind of morning out there.  My fingers and toes were about ready to fall off before I even started my ride.  As I finally mustered up the courage to get going, I thought about turning back, getting in the car and turning on the heat to high.  But that didn’t happen.  I am much too hardheaded for that kind of crap.  I kept going even if it meant losing my fingers and toes.

I became a human popsicle.  I was basically frozen to the bike.  I couldn’t move my arms (they were stuck in the aero position) and my toes were already somewhere in hypothermia land.  It didn’t matter if I even wanted water because I couldn’t be bothered to get it.  And forget trying to open a package of gel because that most definitely wasn’t happening.  I was frozen in place.  I was lucky that I could continue pedaling.  I kept thinking about my 52 degree swim last week and it didn’t even seem to compare because I knew there was a quick end in sight.  There appeared to be no end today because my bike ride was set to last at least 3 hours.  Three hours might as well have been an eternity.  An eternity in a freezer.  An eternity as a popsicle.

After an hour I had to stop so I could attempt to pry open a bag of gummy chews.  My hands could barely work, but the rest of my body was actually warming up.  I thought that maybe I could take off the full face mask (one that covers your entire head) so I did so.  Then I rode for a minute and decided that was a mistake.  I had to put it back on so I could feel my face again.  It took another hour of riding before I didn’t need it anymore.  The rest of my clothes, however, remained intact until I reached the truck after 3 hours of riding.

Running is another story.  I am a hot runner.  And of course I don’t mean “hot” like “HOT MAMA,” but “hot” like the overheating type of hot.  It is kind of ironic because I am such a cold person.  And maybe you might take that in the sense that I am a “COLD” human being, but that is probably true too so it doesn’t really matter either way.  All of a sudden I was in tights, biking shorts, a thermal long sleeve shirt, jersey, rain jacket and gloves converting to shorts and a thin long sleeve shirt.

Running seems so much easier to me.  Less clothing and gear required.   I can just go at a moment’s notice and not really even have to plan my route.  I took off like a flash and was happy with my half-marathon pace.  Yeah, that lasted about 3 miles.  Then I started to slow down.  I let a dude pass me.  I just couldn’t keep up.  I was getting slower and slower.  I was moving in slow motion and couldn’t do anything to speed up.  It was like hitting that damn wall at mile 20, except it was happening at mile 4.  Obviously I need to eat more.  EAT!  How often are girls told that they need to EAT MORE!

Well, these training workouts are trials and tribulations.  I know that I can only hope I don’t have to race in 33 degree weather, but I can work on the nutrition factor.  Four hours today.  I guess I only need to tack on an additional 2 hours… or maybe 3.  That just seems like a freakin’ long time.

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Food Mysteries

At least alligators don't have to worry about what to eat... they just grab whatever slithers by...

At least alligators don’t have to worry about what to eat… they just grab whatever slithers by…

Food is just a mystery to me.  I can’t seem to figure it out.  I came from a meat and potatoes family and it was almost funny that I turned the tables and refused to eat certain foods that I was raised with.  At first my family just made fun of me and then they started making me BBQ chicken when the entrée was pot roast or beef ribs.  They didn’t raise their eyebrows any more if I opted to only have the salad or passed on the bacon.  It was obvious that my tastes were changing.  Not only my tastes, but also my views on food.

I pretty much always knew that fast food was a fast way to heart disease.  Yet, that thought never stopped me from consuming crap during my twenties.  Hey, it was fast, easy and very tasty.  My three pregnancies were an excuse to eat whatever and whenever until I finally started to realize that my unborn baby was eating exactly what I was eating.  Yeah, that might have screwed them up a bit, but I somehow ended up with a child who isn’t a fan of french fries (totally not my response to fries), two that absolutely love seaweed (not my favorite delicacy) and one that loves baked goods (okay, she might have gotten that from me).  As parents, I suppose we still have a chance once they come out of the womb.  They obviously see what we eat and eat what we feed them.  It is up to us to do the right thing.

Just over one year ago I decided to cut out all poultry, beef, pork, lamb, buffalo, kangaroo, ox, snake and deer (okay, so maybe I never even tried half of that…but it is true that I have tried kangaroo).  What I am trying to say is that I sort of became a vegetarian, but I can’t really say I am a true vegetarian because I still eat seafood.  If I try to tell someone that I am a “pescatarian” they just give me a strange look and say that they never heard of that religion.  Seafood is a mystery to me.  I love my omega-3s (my healthy fish fat) and I trust that the Mediterraneans know what is going on.  I also somehow believe that my mom’s family has roots in the Mediterranean region.  And you know what?  I love me some seared ahi and couldn’t commit to giving it up.  Plus I figured that this is MY diet so I can eat whatever the hell I want.

That’s why I can say that sometimes I feel like being a vegan.  I know I am not a vegan in the definition that vegans have for vegans, but remember that this is MY diet so I can take a little bit of veganism if I want (just like I took a little bit of vegetarianism).  Maybe I could just call it pescavegarian.  I tend to bake things that are dairy-free because my husband is lactose intolerant.  That means that I buy tofu sour cream to make that chocolate cake or use almond milk mixed with vinegar to add a bit of “buttermilk.”  Then there is that little known fact that I often order soy lattes and drink almond milk in my cereal.  I choose to eat the soy or coconut milk yogurt.  I thought I was doing the right thing for my health.  It didn’t seem like too much of a mystery.

Then the matter of soy came to light.  Soy has become a new mystery.  And darn it, I like soy lattes better than non-fat lattes.  I tend to include tofu on our weekly menu at least 2 times a week.  Those soy beans are pretty darn good too.  Then I recently became diagnosed with hypothyroidism.  I learned that certain foods (including soy) may have a negative impact on thyroid function.  Of course soy is a discussion of debate, but there is no point risking additional thyroid issues with overconsumption.

This is MY diet and I will do what I see fit for my body regardless of what anyone else says.  I am pretty darn open-minded, so I often do my own research and then decide what will work for me.  And I don’t need to label it vegetarianism, veganism, paleoism, or whatever other terms mainstream society is using these days.  I will just call it the “Heidi diet” and I am set.  This “Heidi diet” is always in a state of flux because I am constantly learning new things about food.  Some of these new ideas only make food more mysterious, but sometimes it does make sense (like avoiding McDonald’s at all costs).

Did I mention that when you include fitness into the mix that there is an entirely new mystery to be resolved?  It is called what to eat while on the run.  Um, I am talking literally here.  How many calories to consume before a run, during a run and after a run.   I have to figure out what will keep me satisfied and what won’t cause tummy troubles.  They tell you to eat sugar, but then you wonder if you will go into a diabetic coma from eating so much sugar.  Make sure you are getting those electrolytes too!  Sometimes I get it right and I feel great.  Other times I slam into a wall (not literally) and feel like I am a sputtering engine trying to chug up the street at super slow speed.

Fortunately my family doesn’t mind my compulsive need to solve these food mysteries.  They try the chocolate mousse made with tofu (even my meat-loving father was impressed) and aren’t taken aback when my daughter asks my stepmom with surprise:  “you have never had tofu before??”  My husband just goes with the flow and tries everything I put on his plate, while my daughters aren’t always so laid back.  Yet, we encourage them to try and then move on from there.  Eventually I hit a home run (for some reason my baking experiments seem to have more success).  It is definitely a learning process and new mysteries are often sparked by new ideas.  I don’t know if I will ever get it right, but what exactly is right?

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Run Like My Mother

At the Portland Marathon

At the Portland Marathon

The arrival of March brings the memories of my mother’s passing.  It has been 13 years now and I know time heals, but it can never make you forget what you have lost.  At the time of my mother’s passing I was attending college in Alaska while she was in California.  At the time, I was not a runner nor did I ever desire to be one.  Sure, I was all about rock climbing, skiing, ice climbing, hiking and even spending some occasional time at the gym hanging out on the elliptical.  My mother knew I wasn’t a runner like her.  She often encouraged (or forced) me to run in little fun runs… the furthest one might have been a 5K I completed (half walking) during her Portland marathon debut.  Getting fired from my lame job at IHOP (I was 18 at the time) in order to take a weekend trip to watch her finish the Portland marathon was one of the few times I showed my mother support for her running.  I didn’t understand her love of running.  I didn’t understand her need to run at least 5 miles every day.  I didn’t understand her desire to run 26.2 miles without stopping… and then do it again and again.

After my mother’s passing I would run occasionally.  Mostly only if I really had to like during my training in the Coast Guard.  It took me having my own children before I started to take running seriously.  My main reason at the time was to lose baby weight.  My mother was always very thin and I just assumed that running made her that way.  I didn’t think about the other reasons why she might have been so thin.  Running was just the one positive thing that I could have  a firm grasp on.

As I started running I began to think about my mother in a new light.  We weren’t always on the best terms because she made many mistakes.  I always focused on the negative and refused to cherish the positive.  As I continued running I began to turn towards the positive aspects of my mother’s life.  I know that everyone makes mistakes and it was time for me to learn from all of the experiences that I had faced during my childhood.  My mother was strong and determined when it came to running.  I took her strength and doubled it.  I refused to become like her in many ways, but was comforted by the fact that I could make my own choices and carry on her strengths.

Even though she is no longer with me, running has brought my mother and I closer together.  Running has meaning now.  It is my passion.  It is my strength.  I am a runner just like my mother.

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Running and Facebook

Like it... or not

Like it… or not

Yes, I will admit that I often talk more about running on facebook than I do about my own kids.  There are certain things about my life that I feel are nobody’s business.  However, there are also the things that I can yack about for days and have no problem disclosing every last gory detail.  I have chosen to “tell all” when it comes to my fitness goals.  I figure that if I can at least inspire one person through all of this then I have done what I was meant to do.   I know half of the time it sounds like I am bragging or trying to prove to the world that I am some kind of athletic goddess, but that is definitely not the intention (and even though I am proud of my own personal accomplishments, I know that I am not better than anyone else… well, except for murderers, rapists, thieves… okay maybe I am better than a few people out there).  Actually, there are people out there who could care less about fitness.  I am definitely not “cool” in their eyes nor would they even glance at my facebook posts or blog.  The great thing about it though, is that I am not trying to impress anyone.  If someone doesn’t want to read my post, then they don’t have to look at it.  If someone doesn’t want to be my friend because they are sick of reading about my running adventures, then they can defriend me.  No worries.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I really love it when my family and friends post about a success they had with running or while doing some other type of exercise regiment.  I could care less about what their kid ate for breakfast (just kidding… or maybe I am not).  The bottom line is that everyone has their own interests and there is nothing left to do but appreciate each other’s uniqueness.  Some of my friends are interested in discussing parenting issues and I can totally relate because I am a parent myself.  I am not one for much discussion in that area, but I appreciate their views.  Some of my friends are interested in posting recipes and I often find some that are quite appealing.  Some of my friends like to discuss politics… I just read and move on (I am not very political).  A few of my friends enjoy writing about fashion.  As you all know by now I am very lacking in that department so I find that I can always learn a thing or two from my fashionista friends.

But back to what interests me most: fitness.  Well, running specifically.  I know how challenging running can be so I am always thrilled when a friend or family member posts about their new running experiences.  I send them virtual high fives and words of encouragement.  I love reading about how they ran 2 miles one day and then pushed themselves to run 3 miles the next day.  Sometimes this continues and I find out that they have run their first 5k or started training for a half marathon.  Other times it just goes away and I assume that they have fallen off the running wagon for one reason or another.  In any case, these are my all-time favorite posts and I never let one slip by without hitting the “like” button or adding some positive comment.  My friends and family can always count on me for that.

Obviously if you are actually reading this blog then you must have some positive affinity towards fitness and don’t mind me yacking about it 24 hours a day.  Yes, this is my interest and field of expertise (okay, so I like to think I am at least some sort of expert).   If I would have been writing a blog 10 years ago, then I probably would have been writing about other adventures that had nothing to do with running (because I really didn’t think much about running 10 years ago).  It’s funny how people’s interests change over time.  I am always hoping to convert a few walkers.  Let’s get running people!

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A Wintery Half Marathon

It is just nice knowing that you have friends out on the race course... it doesn't matter whether or not you eat their dust.

It is just nice knowing that you have friends out on the race course… it doesn’t matter whether or not you eat their dust.

I admit that I often complain about the weather.  It is either too hot, too cold, too windy, too rainy, too snowy or too humid.  It is never perfect.  In the days leading up to this half marathon I found myself complaining once again.  It had been so nice (almost perfect) all week long and it was suddenly going to drop in temperature, increase in winds and dump snow just in time for the start of the race.  I mean, really, I should have totally expected this a month ago when I signed up for the race!  It is not like I hadn’t been training in these conditions already.  Sometimes I can be such a baby!

Well, maybe it helps to be all whiny and complainy (I’m sure that’s not a word, but I like it).  I approached the starting line with thoughts about having fun and doing this as part of my triathlon training.  I didn’t expect to get anywhere near my Personal Record (PR) even though I had a goal of completing it in under 2 hours.  At least that was a reasonable goal because I have been running 10 to 12 miles every Saturday at a decent pace.

My friends and I stood at the starting line in anticipation.  And then they all took off while I slowly meandered through the crowd.  Sure, I would’ve sprinted to keep up, but I know myself too well (one great thing about having a bit of half marathon experience).  If I started off too quickly then I would die before I even made it to the finish.  “Run at your own pace” is what I often tell myself during these races.  It usually works very well in my favor.  We strolled along the creek on a trail that I was quite familiar with.  I knew what to expect around mile 6:  the start of a gradual incline that would lead to a steeper switchback at around mile 7.  I wasn’t too worried, but I did do something that I NEVER do during a race.  I grabbed one of the gels that were being passed out.  One that I had NEVER tried before.  I put it in my pocket and continued on up the hill.

I just love when I pass someone and then they pass me a quarter of a mile later and then I pass them again another quarter of a mile later.  When someone is coming up behind me I glance sideways and take note of who it is: “Oh, it’s that dude in the gray pants suit again.  He was walking when I passed him and now he decided to start running again.  There he goes.  I bet I can pass him on the hill.”  Or: “It’s that guy again.  He is the one who elbowed me when he passed me before.  I better steer clear of him this time.”  Of course there is always: “Oh no, that chick might be in my age group.  I totally can’t let her pass me!”  This is the kind of stuff that keeps me entertained during a race.  Seriously, the miles just fly by!

It was real annoying when I had to be ultra conservative while running on the ice-covered patches.  As time ticked by, those patches became slushy and even more slippery.  I couldn’t risk slipping.  No way would it be worth hip replacement surgery at my age!  I let people pass me on those stretches and then I kicked it up an extra notch when I reached the dry pavement.  Do you ever watch how the person in front of you runs?  At one point I was marveling at a girl who totally runs just like me.  She had the whiparound legs that flapped out to the side as she ran.  I suddenly became very attuned to my running form and I reigned my own legs in.  During the long incline I was stuck behind a guy with very bright shoes who was running at my pace.  I stared at those shoes the entire time so that I wouldn’t know how much further it was before I finally reached the top.  Next thing you know, we were there!

That switchback hill was not fun.  Not fun at all.  But, it wasn’t as bad as it looked.  It took everything I had not to slow down.  I kept pushing for my pace to overcome it.  And that I did.  When I reached the top I just wanted to lay down in the snow, but I knew that wasn’t an option.  I still had 5 more miles to go.  What did I do instead?  I closed my eyes (well, maybe not completely, but they were partially closed).  I know it may sound funny, but I almost fell asleep.  I was at peace for that short moment.  And then I remembered where I was.  I looked around at the amazing view and I pumped my legs faster as I flew down the hill.  I had to play catch up for lost time on that uphill battle.  Yet, I couldn’t overdo it.

At that moment I realized that it was probably very dumb of me to push it so hard.  That seems to be a common scenario.  I kept thinking about how I needed to do my swim/bike workout the next day.  I couldn’t put that off just because I wanted to finish a fast half marathon.  My triathlon was more important than this race.  But then you just get in the racing mindset and there is nothing left to do but push as much as you would in any race.  My legs were tight, my hips were out of tune and my lower back was cringing, but it was nothing that warranted a slower pace so I continued on.

As I neared the bottom of the hill, I thought about that gel in my pocket.  I knew I was going to need more fuel than what I had, but I wondered if it was worth a possible gastric attack.  If I was going to continue at this pace, then I would need more fuel.  I opened it up and swallowed.  Hmm, not too bad.  I always wondered what those tasted like and they weren’t bad at all.  And it must have agreed with my stomach.

Another measly 5K and I would be there.  It wasn’t until I got to this point that I realized I would definitely finish in under 2 hours.  There was even the chance that I would be very close to my PR of 1:49:57.  There were a few times during the last 5K that I considered slowing down, but I forced myself to stay on pace.  Every little hill seemed harrowing, but I set my mind to passing people (a little competition always gets me motivated).

I made it a point to sprint to the finish even if it made my finishing picture look very bad (if it isn’t bad then you are obviously not working hard enough).  I finished in 1:50:05, just 8 seconds more than my PR from a very flat, very sea level race back in Jacksonville.  I really don’t know how it happened, but I do know this:  if someone says they are probably going to have a bad race day, are complaining about the environmental conditions or say that they haven’t really trained, then they will most likely kick some serious butt!  Don’t believe a word of it!

And the best part of it all:  I had fun!  The weather didn’t scare me, the trail conditions didn’t scare me, the competition didn’t scare me and I didn’t scare myself (well, not too bad).