I knew there was a reason why I've never done a half marathon in January before: It's effin' hard to train for one during the busy holiday season. Plus, our frigid blast of actic weather hasn't helped much either. I'm plugging along trying to do what I can do. We ran 9 miles last Friday and will do 8 to 10 this Saturday (HOPEFULLY!). I'm trying to get pumped up for it. Maybe the promise of mochas and scones will do the trick...
I'm missing my good running friend who is now wintering in Arizona. But I'll be seeing her soon enough. First stop Phoenix, then onwards to Viva Las Vegas! I'm excited! We have both decided that we will not worry about our finish times in Phoenix. We simply haven't had enough time to train properly since coming back from our injuries.
I started working with a personal trainer a few weeks ago and he is kicking my ass. Clearly, I have been wasting my time in the gym for the last couple of years. I can tell he is testing my level of fitness and strength at these sessions. He works me hard and makes me sweat in ways I won't make myself. Then he checks with me to see how I am feeling so he can figure out if we overdid it or not. I'm developing quite the love/hate relationship with him. Last week, we did too much leg work before my long run. I won't let that happen again.
So overall everything is going pretty well. The injury problems seem under control, which pleases me. I've got much work ahead of me but at least I am running again.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Gratitude
I recently returned to running after nearly 3 months off. It is hard not to feel a little down about how much fitness I lost during this time of recovery (and about how much weight I gained). My current 3 mile pace is slower than my June half marathon pace. But the good news is that I am running again; I am up to 8 miles now and for that I am extremely grateful.
Through the years, I have come to realize that I am happiest when I feel gratitude for all the wonderful things in my life. Lately, it seems so many people are getting really sick that I am grateful for things I don’t have too. When I wasn’t able to run I felt as if I had lost a friend so I am grateful for any miles I run now. As always, the bad runs help us appreciate the good runs and not running at all helps us appreciate a return to running – even if it is at a slower pace.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Out of the fog
The car door slammed shut and the woman walked easily over to the light pole, which she used as support to gently stretch her quadriceps. The man joined her and they discussed which direction they should go and wondered if they would need an extra layer. The early morning air temperature felt sharply brisk and a dense fog hung in the air waiting for the sun’s heat to burn it off.
They started with a brief walk and then fell into a gentle side-by-side jog. The narrow running path consisted of small gravel layered over packed dirt bordered by unkempt grass and weeds. The woman bounced along next to the man and they settled on what pace they would run today.
Into the fog they ran and as they approached the lake the woman noticed how the moisture in the cool air thickened and clung to her cheeks. They noticed several snowy white objects floating on the calm water. As they grew closer she could hear honking noises and realized the objects were swans floating in and out of the mist.
They jogged steadily through the trees, around the corner and over the wooden plank bridge that covered the marshy area. Their raggedy jog smoothed out and they found a comfortable rhythm. His breath puffed when he spoke a few words trying to initiate a conversation. Normally talkative, she answered briefly and withdrew contentedly back into her own mind.
The woman concentrated on her breath as she listened to the sounds of their synchronized footfalls. Her mind roamed through her body assessing how different body parts were feeling. Her legs felt springy and she experimented with increasing her stride length and leg turnover but not so much as to compromise her relaxed breathing patterns. They mostly ran silently yet keenly aware of the other. Their elbows bumped, he apologized, and they re-negotiated their space on the narrow trail. As her muscles warmed she increased the pace slightly. He fell behind but then surged to return to her side.
She could hear his steady breathing and it became her breathing. They ran as one unit sharing space, sharing breaths, sharing thoughts. Her heart pumped strongly and the blood flowed from her, circulated into him, and then returned to her. She felt great gratitude. In her mind she told him things she’d always meant to say but hadn’t gotten around to actually saying. Yet somehow she knew that on that day in the foggy mist, he understood what was in her mind and her heart because they ran as one.
They started with a brief walk and then fell into a gentle side-by-side jog. The narrow running path consisted of small gravel layered over packed dirt bordered by unkempt grass and weeds. The woman bounced along next to the man and they settled on what pace they would run today.
Into the fog they ran and as they approached the lake the woman noticed how the moisture in the cool air thickened and clung to her cheeks. They noticed several snowy white objects floating on the calm water. As they grew closer she could hear honking noises and realized the objects were swans floating in and out of the mist.
They jogged steadily through the trees, around the corner and over the wooden plank bridge that covered the marshy area. Their raggedy jog smoothed out and they found a comfortable rhythm. His breath puffed when he spoke a few words trying to initiate a conversation. Normally talkative, she answered briefly and withdrew contentedly back into her own mind.
The woman concentrated on her breath as she listened to the sounds of their synchronized footfalls. Her mind roamed through her body assessing how different body parts were feeling. Her legs felt springy and she experimented with increasing her stride length and leg turnover but not so much as to compromise her relaxed breathing patterns. They mostly ran silently yet keenly aware of the other. Their elbows bumped, he apologized, and they re-negotiated their space on the narrow trail. As her muscles warmed she increased the pace slightly. He fell behind but then surged to return to her side.
She could hear his steady breathing and it became her breathing. They ran as one unit sharing space, sharing breaths, sharing thoughts. Her heart pumped strongly and the blood flowed from her, circulated into him, and then returned to her. She felt great gratitude. In her mind she told him things she’d always meant to say but hadn’t gotten around to actually saying. Yet somehow she knew that on that day in the foggy mist, he understood what was in her mind and her heart because they ran as one.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Training Begins
I feel incredibly energized partly because I have a new goal: The PF Chang RockNRoll half marathon.
I'm excited about this trip as I'll be splitting my time between Phoenix and Vegas. However, I am worried about pushing so hard after recovering from an injury so I will keep my goals modest: avoid injury, enjoy the course and have a fun trip. If all goes well, I will be in excellent condition for the Virginia Beach Shamrock HM in March. I might even consider doing the full.
Now I need to develop a training plan that will get me from injury to half marathon condition in about 10 weeks. So much to do, so little time.
I'm excited about this trip as I'll be splitting my time between Phoenix and Vegas. However, I am worried about pushing so hard after recovering from an injury so I will keep my goals modest: avoid injury, enjoy the course and have a fun trip. If all goes well, I will be in excellent condition for the Virginia Beach Shamrock HM in March. I might even consider doing the full.
Now I need to develop a training plan that will get me from injury to half marathon condition in about 10 weeks. So much to do, so little time.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Yoga Nidra
I have been quite interested in yoga during the last two or three years. My favorite classes have always been those that were vigorous and strength-building. It’s amazing how you can work up a good sweat even though you don’t look like you are doing much. Lately, I have been exploring classes of a more therapeutic nature. The deep, long-held stretches of yin yoga have really helped my hip/sciatic problem. This week, I attended my first yoga nidra class which translates into “yogic sleep.” Seems like I can never get enough sleep so that sounded like the perfect class to try.
I arrived at class with an open mind, unfurled my mat, and gathered a couple of blankets and a bolster. The room filled with more people than I’ve seen in the other classes. We lined up in two rows with our mats about 18” apart. I fought back the feeling of claustrophobia; I’m not used to sleeping so close to complete strangers. Everyone settled and the instructor explained the class format.
She made it clear that while some people may fall asleep during the class, traditional sleep was not the goal. She would guide us in meditation which would help us fall into a conscious sleep-like state. We lay down in the corpse pose position, covered with blankets and listened as she began the meditation. Within probably the first 5 minutes I had fallen asleep but awoke when I heard her saying, “Do not fall asleep.” Oops! I believe I stayed awake for the remainder of the hour in a dreamy relaxed state of consciousness.
A couple of nearby people snored softly and I started to wish I had a pillow because the folded up blanket beneath the back of my head was feeling rather cement-like. I had no idea how much time had passed and my ability to lay so utterly and completely still without fidgeting surprised me. Without giving away all the secrets, when the instructor brought us out of our nidra I was astonished an hour had already passed. I found the experience to be a good one and will definitely attend another yoga nidra.
I arrived at class with an open mind, unfurled my mat, and gathered a couple of blankets and a bolster. The room filled with more people than I’ve seen in the other classes. We lined up in two rows with our mats about 18” apart. I fought back the feeling of claustrophobia; I’m not used to sleeping so close to complete strangers. Everyone settled and the instructor explained the class format.
She made it clear that while some people may fall asleep during the class, traditional sleep was not the goal. She would guide us in meditation which would help us fall into a conscious sleep-like state. We lay down in the corpse pose position, covered with blankets and listened as she began the meditation. Within probably the first 5 minutes I had fallen asleep but awoke when I heard her saying, “Do not fall asleep.” Oops! I believe I stayed awake for the remainder of the hour in a dreamy relaxed state of consciousness.
A couple of nearby people snored softly and I started to wish I had a pillow because the folded up blanket beneath the back of my head was feeling rather cement-like. I had no idea how much time had passed and my ability to lay so utterly and completely still without fidgeting surprised me. Without giving away all the secrets, when the instructor brought us out of our nidra I was astonished an hour had already passed. I found the experience to be a good one and will definitely attend another yoga nidra.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Snow angels
Winter landed early and I couldn't wait to get outside and play. At 7 a.m. I started bugging my husband to get the skis out of the rafters in the garage so I could ski around the neighborhood while the snow was still fresh and nice. I glided for about 90 minutes in car tracks and then took a jaunt into the field. But the knee-deep snow made gliding too hard. Afterwards, I had more fun knocking the snow out of our trees and those of our neighbors to help keep the limbs from breaking and also did a little shoveling. I think we've seen the worst of this storm but to be honest, I'd love to get snowed in for a few days! :)
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Weatherman Draw
We joined some running club friends on a hike to view American Indian pictographs in south-central Montana near the Wyoming border. The weather turned out to be perfect and while our group was small, we were big in enthusiasm.
The area was typical of the high plains of Montana: dusty and rocky with lots of scrub vegetation. The panoramic views provided a nice backdrop to imagine the Indians of yesteryear riding across the prairie on horseback. An occasional wispy white cloud drifted lazily overhead but the sky was mostly unmarred and the most spectacular shade of blue. Looking out for miles and miles in any direction gives one the feeling they can almost see into both the past and the future. The innumerable sage and short evergreen shrubs provided an aromatic sensory experience. Small purple and yellow wildflowers dotted our way as we walked along. Despite our diligent avoidance, the prickly pear cactus and cheat grass annoyingly invaded our footware and socks as we tromped our way up the trail.
The area was typical of the high plains of Montana: dusty and rocky with lots of scrub vegetation. The panoramic views provided a nice backdrop to imagine the Indians of yesteryear riding across the prairie on horseback. An occasional wispy white cloud drifted lazily overhead but the sky was mostly unmarred and the most spectacular shade of blue. Looking out for miles and miles in any direction gives one the feeling they can almost see into both the past and the future. The innumerable sage and short evergreen shrubs provided an aromatic sensory experience. Small purple and yellow wildflowers dotted our way as we walked along. Despite our diligent avoidance, the prickly pear cactus and cheat grass annoyingly invaded our footware and socks as we tromped our way up the trail.
We headed towards the little valley that supposedly has the largest collection of Native American rock art on the continent with some dating back to over 1,000 years. The area is also known as the "Valley of the Shields or the "Valley of the Chiefs." Several years ago, a controversy erupted when Phil Anschutz, a billionaire businessman, wanted to drill for oil on the land. Through the coordinated efforts of several tribes and non-profit organizations, this sacred area has been spared that fate.
We did not find all of the pictographs but did find several. While they are still quite visible, they will eventually erode through the effects of time and elements. We wondered why they chose the canvases they did. Each sandstone surface appeared to be carefully prepared before the paint was applied. The sandstone texture was different beneath the art; it was if the surface had been sanded and smoothed.
The art we saw depicted shields with heads and sometimes tails and the photos do not do justice.
We took our time searching the area for more art. We crawled over bolders and squeezed between massive sheets of rock while always being alert for rattlesnakes. The wildlife actually seemed rather sparse; a bunny here, a hawk there, and a few snake skins. There was lots of scat so we knew larger animals were in the area. Skeletal remains in various conditions were common. One small scull appeared to be completely intact and we guessed it to be of a rabbit. This was a day of wonder and awe and gave us all an appreciation of all things great and small. With childlike curiosity we took turns examining the little scull and opened and closed its jaw trying to align the tiny teeth. What happened to the poor little thing?
No one in our party was in any hurry to leave this special place and we looked for every excuse to delay our departure. We found massive bolders to sit on while we dined on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and plums freshly picked from someone's garden. Together we marvelled at the natural beauty of the area and grew closer as friends through this shared experience.
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