The Road to 26.2: Week 13

I have no excuses for not posting this training recap earlier in the week.  Best intentions and all, but it just didn't happen.  If only there were 26 hours in a day!  Week 13 didn't include any 26 hour days, though it did feature one 23 hour day (thanks, daylight savings!).  My week of training looked like this:

Monday (3/2):  Pilates.
Still fighting a head full of snot and trying to deny that the symptoms had moved down to my chest, I thought I should take an extra day off from running and do some cross training instead.  A little bit of Pilates kept me from feeling like a sloth, but I was itching to run.
Tuesday (3/3):  5 mile run.
I wasn't too sure how my lungs would feel (and there was some patchy ice on the roads), so I took to the treadmill for this one.  Quite a bit of coughing and nose wiping later, I finally finished this not-so-easy five miler.
Wednesday (3/4):  5 mile run.
Not back to full strength and the ice not fully melted, I was back on the treadmill again.  Thank goodness for Netflix!

Thursday (3/5):  yoga and strength work.
A good mid-afternoon stretch while the kids napped followed by my usual strength regimen: squats, planks, side planks, pushups, glute and core work.
Friday (3/6):  5 mile run.
Finally felt more like myself!  The kids were off school, so I could run slightly later.  I enjoyed a fabulous sunrise and felt nothing but gratitude during this incredibly cold run.  Chances are good that this was the last brutally cold run of the season!  Temperatures climbed all day, and we've enjoyed spring-like weather ever since :)
Saturday (3/7):  REST!
A packed family calendar with no room for a 3.5 hour run.  I felt antsy and off all day as I've done a long run on each of the last 12 Saturdays; it seemed odd to be preparing for the run rather than logging the miles.

My "I survived 19 miles and can still muster half of a smile" face.

Sunday (3/8): 19 mile run
Beautiful weather, sunny skies, and a brain that wasn't engaged.  I ran a lovely route through Forest Park, saw lots of other runners, and listened to some great podcasts.  Yet inexplicably, I couldn't find a groove and very little of this 19-miler felt fun or comfortable.  In spite of my brain's tantrum, however, I kept a fairly even pace throughout and managed a strong finish for the last mile.  The best part of this run was seeing my BRF at the end!  She was walking home from church in her Sunday finery, and I was a hot mess, but she gave me a hug anyway.  Aren't BRFs the best?!

Tiny bits of snow left in the grass.
Hopefully the last snow of the season!

I'm so happy to see that spring is starting to show her pretty face.  With the time change over the weekend, the mornings are pitch black again, but I'll take it in exchange for warmer weather, sunnier skies, and greener landscapes.  Fingers crossed that I've logged my last bitterly cold run of the season!!

By Degrees: What to Wear when the Temperatures Dip

Part of my evening ritual includes scanning the next morning's weather to see what I'll encounter on my run.  Taking the hourly forecast at face value, I pull out what I need to wear and make a tidy stack in the bathroom where I can stumble into it without further thought.  At 4:30am, I can muster enough brain cells to pile on the layers onto my body, but I can't think clearly enough to make clothing decisions.

I've joked for a while that I need to make a chart that would tell me what layers to wear based on the temperature.  Instead of wasting minutes pondering what would work best at 30*, I could just reference my chart, make the pile, and go to bed.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized this was actually a good idea, not just a joke, and I thought some of you might appreciate the details, too.  As a disclaimer, I am, of course, in no way qualified to give advice on cold weather running or fashion (definitely not fashion!).  But the following guidelines work for me, and if you are wondering what to wear in the cold months ahead, take a gander.

A sea of black with isolated pink: my winter running staples.

When temperatures are in the 50s:
We don't see many 50* days in winter around here, but when they show up, I like to wear:

• capris
• long sleeve technical shirt
• vest
• regular wicking running socks

When temperatures are in the 40s:
I love 40* runs!  The air feels fresh, my legs are speedy, and it doesn't take me hours to dress.  My usual layers include:

• capris (in the upper 40s) or running tights (in the lower 40s)
• long sleeve technical shirt
• vest
• wool running socks
• gloves and ear warmers

When temperatures are in the 30s:
30* still feels pretty good to me, at least once I get going.  To stay warm at this temperature, I wear:

• fleece-lined running tights
• long sleeve technical shirt
• vest
• wool running socks
• gloves, ear warmers, and arm warmers

When temperatures are in the 20s:
This starts to be the point at which I dislike outdoor runs: too many layers and too much cold air for my lungs.  But when I prefer frozen lungs to treadmill boredom, I keep warm(ish) with:

• fleece-lined running tights
• long sleeve technical shirt
• short sleeve technical shirt
• vest
• wool running socks
• gloves, ear warmers, arm warmers, and a balaclava

When temperatures are in the 10s:
These are usually the lowest temperatures we see, and fortunately, we don't usually have them for a sustained period.  When they come, however, I do my best to keep warm by wearing:

• fleece-lined running tights
• long sleeve technical shirt
• short sleeve technical shirt
• vest
• jacket
• wool running socks
• gloves, ear warmers, arm warmers, and a balaclava

For me, the wool socks are a game-changer.  I wore them very regularly last winter and then couldn't find them before a 20* run in February.  Grabbing other socks, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal on a quick 3-miler.  Boy, was I wrong!  My feet were so cold throughout the run that I could hardly think of anything else.  Since then, I've been sure to have my wool socks handy for any run where the temperature hits 40* or lower; my body is much happier that way.

How do you layer for winter runs?  Do you have a go-to piece of winter running gear?

Rainy Run

Running in the rain feels inherently badass.  While most people go out of their way to avoid spending time in the rain, runners lace up as usual and have some fun dodging puddles.  I enjoy a nice rainy run as much as the next gal, but I have to admit that cold, rainy runs are not as pleasant as their milder spring counterpart.

When my alarm sounded this morning, I saw that a cold, rainy run was in my immediate future.  Miles with my BRF - even frosty, soggy ones - trump miles on my lonely basement treadmill, so we headed out to run amid the raindrops.  We cruised through our run and paused to stretch outside her house, as is our usual routine.  As her husband left for work, he shook his head at us and said, "You two are really hardcore."  I'll take that as a compliment :)

Once finished with the soggy run, however, I wanted nothing more than to be warm and dry.  My badass feeling quickly morphed into a chilled-to-the-bone feeling.  I endured a hot shower (no more water, please!) and piled on layers of clothes.  I glanced at the clock and saw that I had 10 minutes before I had to wake my kids for school.  I could do laundry.  Or empty the dishwasher.  Or pick up misplaced toys.  Or snuggle under a blanket with a cup of coffee.

Warm at last!

I stand by my choice ;)

By the Numbers

Running is rife with numbers, so I thought I'd take an opportunity to glance through a few of mine infographic style:

What are some of your favorite running numbers?

Welcome back, winter!

It appears that we've skipped late fall here in St. Louis and headed straight for winter.  Temperatures plummeted last week with overnight lows in the low 20s.  Welcome back, winter, and your accompanying layers (and layers and layers) required for us early morning runners.

As I started dressing for Friday's 23* run, I forgot how long it takes to don all the requisite winter apparel.  I pulled on my wool socks, fleece-lined tights, two shirts, and a vest.  I checked the time as I dug in the pile for my gloves, hat, balaclava, and reflective wear: 4:55, or exactly the time I should be outside meeting Emily.  I threw the last pieces on quickly and vowed to set my alarm earlier next time.  An extra two minutes should do it...

Bundled to the hilt to stay warm on these frosty mornings.

I love the freshness of the crisp, cold air, and I'm weirdly excited over the return of winter runs.  My paces are faster in the cold weather, and running in frigid temps is inherently badass ;)  But there is one significant downside to winter running (besides the extra time it takes to get dressed): laundry!  So.much.laundry.  As a family of five, I'm accustomed to the incredible beast which is the laundry pile at our house.  Adding the winter running layers, however, tips the balance from massive undertaking to insurmountable burden.

Just a portion of the laundry generated by Saturday's long run.

Admittedly, a little extra laundry is a small price to pay for the many ways in which running improves my life.  But if laundry gnomes mysteriously invaded my basement and tackled the pile, I wouldn't complain!

How do you feel about winter running?  What's your go-to piece of winter running gear?

Seeking Balance and Setting Boundaries

This morning's run was everything I needed it to be.  The air was a crisp 35* as I set out, which felt clean and refreshing.  Real cold weather is just now returning to St. Louis, so this was one of my first truly cold runs, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  [Talk to me again in February, and I'm sure I'll have a different opinion of cold weather runs.  But for today, I'll take it ;) ]

Since it is Sunday, I had the luxury of sleeping in (until 6:15) and running in the daylight!  I nearly forgot how nice it is to run under sunlight rather than streetlights.  On our usual morning runs, the sun doesn't rise until after I've run, showered, and fixed my kids' school lunches.  But today, with the sun shining and the brisk air all around me, I felt lighthearted, without a care in the world.

I intended to use the run as a chance to run down my long to-do list for the week.  To make mental notes about the phone calls and e-mails I need to send.  To organize the minutiae of the busy days ahead.  I accomplished none of those tasks, and surprisingly, I'm okay with that.

One of my favorite trees every fall.
Its leaves hit every shade of fall splendor and never fail to amaze me.

In my new-found life as a SAHM and volunteer, I've found it difficult to outline my boundaries, determining where my obligations to the organizations I serve begin and end.  I'm still finding my way, and since I don't have a clue what I'm doing, I've donated the bulk of my time, energy, and attention to my volunteer work.  When I worked a paying job, I had set hours, I clocked in and out, and though I did some work from home, the bulk of my work happened at my desk in the office.  Now that I'm staying home and volunteering for church and school, my hours are anything but standard and the work happens wherever and whenever it can, which lately seems to be everywhere all the time.  I've logged countless hours organizing communications and formulating strategic plans for them while my own house has suffered from disorganization.  And that isn't going to work for me.

So I'm reclaiming some of my time for myself and my family.  I'm setting boundaries, and today's run served as a perfect example of that.  Instead of perfecting the agenda for Wednesday's PTA meeting, I got lost in a podcast.  I focused on my form and my breathing rather than volunteer lists and upcoming events.  Not preoccupied with other tasks, I marveled at the few trees still clinging to their fall foliage.  Just for fun, I challenged myself to run negative splits, a goal that seemed unreachable when I blew through a surprisingly speedy fourth mile.  But somehow I hung on and logged two even faster miles to finish a nice 10k with picture-perfect splits.

I finished the run feeling more balanced than I have in a couple months.  I plan to cling to my resolve to do good work as a volunteer without sacrificing the needs of my family or myself.  How do you balance all of the competing demands on your time?  Any tips for striking the right balance?

Difficult, Not so Difficult

The last several days have not been as I expected them to be.  A week ago, I would have told you that the following things in my life were difficult:

1.  last Sunday's 10 mile run, my longest since my half in April.
2.  hanging out with my crabby, refusing-to-nap, cutting-four-teeth-at-once (it's a good thing she's cute) baby girl.
3.  cleaning brown crayon off an entire load of laundry, which of course, I didn't discover until after it had gone through the dryer.
4.  cleaning brown crayon out of aforementioned dryer.
5.  organizing logistics for two school fundraisiers and a parish event.

Now all of those things are utterly insignificant.  The only truly difficult thing in my life is watching my grandmother slip out of reality.  In her 101 years on this planet, she's always been sharp as a tack with a witty sense of humor, a strong will, and a generous heart.  Without warning, she's begun a rapid descent, experiencing frequent moments of vast confusion where she doesn't know where she is, who she is, or what she is doing.  Heartbreaking.

So in a matter of days, my priorities have vastly realigned, and my runs have become an absolute necessity.  They help me take a break from care-taking duties and give me a chance to clear my head.  As I met up with Emily this morning, I was so grateful for the chance to work up a sweat and to take control of something in life.  Today, as it so often does, running reminded me that I can do difficult things.  Like last week's 5k, sometimes I have to resign myself to the fact that life is hard, and all I can do is hold on for the ride.  And keep running to balance the stress.  Always keep running.

My Strava title for today's run says it all: controlling what I can control,
which these days, isn't much.

Hungry Runner: Refrigerator Oatmeal

When I come home from a long run, all I want to do is stretch, refuel, and take a long, hot shower.  Most often, however, my children have other ideas.  Their (mostly) happy faces implore me to help with Legos, refill their drinks, and read countless books.  Stretching, food, and showers take a back seat. After all, it's hard to demand more time to myself after I've been gone for hours running.  To ensure that I can quickly ingest a few calories, I love to make refrigerator oatmeal the night before a long run. It sits ready to go in the fridge, so I just have to grab a spoon to refuel while I play Lego foreman.

How my dining room table looks most weekend mornings:
endless Legos just waiting to be created and recreated.

Like many of my recipes, I take a loose approach to preparing my refrigerator oatmeal. (As an aside, I'm a bit astonished how many of my recipes are unstructured. I used to hate when my mom would tell me to add a dash of garlic to our homemade pizza or a pinch of oregano to pasta sauce. I guess it's true: eventually we all become our mother.)  I took my inspiration from this recipe, and my basic process now looks something like this:

1/2 cup oatmeal (not quick oats)
1/4 tsp cinnamon and/or allspice
1 tsp. chia seeds
1/3 cup Greek yogurt
1/3 cup milk
1/2 of a banana, cut into thin circles
1/3 cup fresh or frozen berries

Put the oatmeal, spices, and chia seeds in a Ball jar or another lidded 16 oz. container.  Stir to combine.  Add Greek yogurt and milk.  Stir again to evenly coat the oatmeal mixture.  Add chopped banana and berries.  Stir one last time to combine all ingredients.  Put lid on container and store in refrigerator for 8+ hours.  Enjoy it cold, straight out of the fridge.

The fruit and spice possibilities are endless.  I love the cinnamon and allspice combination with banana and berries; it tastes like a little slice of heaven!  I've also experimented extensively with the liquid components.  I've used both milk and Greek yogurt on their own and haven't been thrilled with the results.  The milk solo is a bit runnier than I prefer, but the Greek yogurt is too chunky.  At the risk of sounding like Goldilocks, the combination of the two is just right ;)

If you've never tried refrigerator oatmeal, I highly recommend that you put some together before your next long run!  Report back and let me know what you think.  Do you have other go-to post-run foods?  Let me know in the comments.  I'm always looking for easy ways to refuel.

Heat and Humidity

I have been truly spoiled by a very unusual St. Louis summer.  In late July, we enjoyed nearly two weeks of faux fall during which I ran in 60-degree weather, unheard of here in the steamy Midwest.  However, it appears that we've used up all of our beautiful weather, and we are now suffering through an excessive heat warning.  Issued in the middle of last week, the heat warning is due to the combination of high heat index (105-110) and high humidity (over 80%).  With overnight lows barely dipping to the mid-70s, the air in this city is thick, soggy, and suffocating.

We had a 7-miler on deck this past weekend in training for the Rock 'n Roll half.  Though we usually like to sleep in on the weekends and head out around 7:00, we reconsidered due to the heat.  We started around sunrise and got the first four miles in before the sun really started bearing down.  The last three, however, were pretty brutal.  I scanned every stretch of sidewalk for sprinklers and slowed down each time I found one so I could enjoy a brief reprieve from the heat.  After our run, we cooled down with a walk, searching for one last sprinkler to bring our blood pressure back onto the charts.  When we finally found one, we stood in it for several minutes, which surely caused the homeowners (our new favorite neighbors!) to question our sanity.

To stay hydrated during this hot streak, I've been drinking sole each morning.  This saltwater solution helps balance out electrolytes, which I surely need after sweating out buckets during each run.  It could all be in my head, but I think the sole has helped me stay energized and healthy while exercising in the heat.

Have you ever tried sole?  Do you have any other hot weather survival tips?

Lessons from the Cruise Ship

Our seven-day cruise to Alaska was nothing short of phenomenal.  Breathtaking views, incredible excursions, amazing food, and peaceful downtime made the trip a spectacular way to celebrate our tenth anniversary.  I had forgotten how easy it was to travel without kids: no scheduling around nap or rigid food schedules, no bag of tricks to provide entertainment during long waits.  We enjoyed the chance to reconnect and have uninterrupted adult conversations.  Pure bliss!

While we were away, I logged four runs and learned quite a bit about running while cruising:

1.  Stock up on bananas early in the week.  On a whim, I grabbed a couple extra bananas on Sunday and took them to our stateroom.  Boy, was that lucky: by Wednesday, I never saw another banana on the ship.  I was glad I had my stockpile to fuel my late week runs.

2.  Don't expect to do speedwork on the track.  To my surprise, the track was not a uniform oval.  Instead, it had several bizarre right angles and odd curves.  The surface was also quite damp from ocean spray and dew, and the path was rather narrow in several places.  Between the wet surface and the slight instability of running aboard a moving ship, a conservative pace was necessary.

Early morning over the Pacific.

3.  Avoid running on the track when out at open sea.  I attempted to run the outdoor track on Sunday, a full day at sea, but was quite literally almost blown away by the winds.  Out in the open water and travelling at fast-for-a-cruise-ship speeds, running on the 13th deck was not a wise choice.  I headed to the gym instead (see #4 below).  On Monday, we were scheduled to dock in our first port by 7:00, so I thought my chances for an outdoor track run would be much better.  Slower speeds and quieter water near the port kept the wind down a notch, and I laced up for a sunrise run at 4:30.  The track was slightly shorter than I expected - 5.5 laps equaled one mile - but the views were better than I could have imagined.  Watching the slowly brightening horizon as it unveiled the majestic Alaskan coast, the 16.5 laps of my 3-miler passed relatively quickly.  Even the 27.5 laps I logged for Friday's 5-miler seemed relatively easy thanks to the magnificent scenery.

A few laps later, the sun peeks over the edge of the water.

4.  Skip the gym, unless the ship is in open water (see #3).  The gym had a reasonable number of treadmills, and they all seemed to work, more or less.  The machines faced a wall of windows with lovely views of the ocean, which is a definite improvement over the view from my basement treadmill.  After 30 minutes, however, I was surprised to find my groove interrupted by the machine's automatic shutdown.  Ugh.  Though the view was interesting, the cruise ship gym reminded me why I dislike coed gyms.  Too many people there to flaunt rather than workout.  Too many (mostly men) running one crazy fast mile then calling it a day.  Too much oogling, competition, and comparing.  I never returned to the gym after that one run.  I appreciated the chance to run when the track conditions were hazardous, but the environment was not one I wanted to revisit.

5.  Lose the headphones.  The track was narrow and though generally unpopulated during my runs, I definitely needed to be unplugged so I could be aware of who was around me.

6.  Take the time to revel in post-run endorphins.  So often after my runs at home, I race inside to shower, fix breakfast, and whisk the kids off to school.  In the hustle and bustle of the mother runner life, I rarely have a moment to enjoy the aftermath of my runs.  Cruise ship life was completely different and provided plenty of time to bask in the post-run joy.  I ended each run by finding a peaceful spot on the deck to do some yoga.  Post-run endorphins + outdoor yoga + breathtaking Alaska scenery = one happy mama.  Fully stretched and blissfully exhausted, I enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee or two while watching the sun continue to brighten the horizon.  Does life get any better?

I've tried to hit the highlights, but I'm sure I've missed something.  What other burning questions do you have about running on a ship?  Lay it on me :)

An Ode to Dan

Today my incredible husband, Dan, and I celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary.  I am infinitely lucky to have found a partner who supports me in all things: parenthood, running, life.  As this is a running blog, let's celebrate his crucial role in my running life:

• The non-morning person who fields requests for second breakfasts and milk refills on Saturdays when I'm out on a long run.  
• The patient man who listens to the very minutiae of my runs.  
• The caring partner who never fails to ask, "How was your run?"  
• The supportive husband who dragged all three kids to the precise spot I requested at my debut half marathon so I could see sweet faces just when I knew I'd need it the most.
• The endless cheerleader who believes I can do anything I set my mind to.  Because of his confidence in me, I have the courage to aim high and dream big.

He may never understand my love of running, but he knows it is part of who I am, and he supports me every step of the way.  And because of that, I am the luckiest.  Here's to my soulmate, Dan, and to many, many more years of love, laughter, and happily ever after.

It feels like only yesterday; how have 10 years elapsed?!

New Routes and Silence

When my alarm sounded this morning, it felt a bit like a scene from Groundhog's Day.  Just as I did two weeks ago, I snoozed the alarm and told myself that I could run on the treadmill at naptime instead.  After the snooze, however, I felt a bit more coherent and remembered how dreadful that treadmill run was.  I survived, but I could live without repeating it again for a while.

So I dragged my tush out of bed and fumbled into my running clothes.  As I stepped out the door, the just-rained humid air filled my lungs, and I started wishing I was back in bed.  Setting low expectations for the run, I headed out and decided to cobble together a new-to-me route through St. Louis Hills and Southampton.  Ever since my run commute earlier this month, I've felt braver about trying out new running routes.  Last week, Emily and I created a new route on the fly, and last weekend, I ran to a new park.  All on familiar roads that I know very well, but ones that until recently, I felt unable to run upon.  The new route was a nice change of pace and gave me some extra pep in my step.

In addition to finding new routes, I've also been running without music lately.  It started as an accident rather than as a conscious decision.  With so many of my runs with Emily, I'm out of the habit of taking along headphones.  Now that I've logged a few non-music runs, however, I really kind of like it.  Sometimes it feels challenging to continue moving forward without the distraction of music or a podcast, but I enjoy the peace and quiet and the opportunity to listen to my own thoughts.  Though they are not always pretty, the miles with just me and the open road feel somewhat luxurious.  So much of my life is filled with chatter and noise, I appreciate the chance to unplug and revel in silence.

Such a wise man, that Thomas Merton.
A fragmented existence might be the kindest way to describe my life these days.

My 3rd Runiversary

Last Saturday marked the third anniversary of my first run.  I drafted a post full of reflections on my running career over the past three years and scheduled it to post on my runiversary.  The would-be post was witty, full of excitement over the joys of running and gratitude for the balance running has brought to my life.  But life happened and the planned post no longer reflected the reality of my runiversary.

I logged 6 solo miles on Saturday, but instead of spending them celebrating my development as a runner, I dragged along with a heavy heart as I considered what the rest of my day would hold: playing flute for my friend's funeral, driving 5 hours to visit relatives, corralling kids who are out of their routine and comfort zone, plastering a semi-contented expression on my face when all I'd really want to do is cry.  The run itself was much like the rest of the day.  Where I expected to feel gratitude, I found exhaustion.  When I should have enjoyed the fresh morning air, I wallowed over GI discomfort.  What I planned as a blissful hour of solitude was 60 minutes of internal crabbing.

It wasn't the day I planned or expected, but I was still lucky for the opportunity to run,
to spend time with family and friends, and to live life.

I returned home feeling defeated and overwhelmed.  Remember how I was waiting for the other shoe to drop?  I think it just did.  In some ways, I'm glad I had that crappy run.  I knew it was coming, and now I can look over my shoulder, say that it happened, and move on with life.  At the end of the day, I was 6 miles stronger.  In fact, after three years of running, I am hundreds of miles stronger - both mentally and physically.  I am grateful for all my runs, the good and the bad, for they have made me into a strong, confident, and balanced mother runner.  Here's to many, many more runiversaries!

Catharsis

Last night, I learned that a good friend of our family died suddenly.  She had been battling colon cancer but was doing well, even making an appearance last weekend at her parish's annual carnival.  Her doctors suspect she suffered a blood clot yesterday afternoon, which took her quickly and without warning.

Since hearing the news, I've waffled between denial and sadness.  She has kids around the same ages as my sisters and me, and our families grew up together.  Attending the same schools, participating in sports and orchestras together, and performing in community theater productions, our lives and theirs were interwoven on many planes.  As adults, our paths continued to intersect.  Her grandson attends preschool with my daughter, and we often see them at parish and school functions.

For all of these interactions to end so abruptly and without warning is nothing short of shocking.  I have always thought of Kathy as one of my extra moms, a wise woman who could answer any life question or serve as the voice of reason and experience.  Knowing how achy my heart feels, I cannot even begin to imagine the pain her five biological children are experiencing.

Toting all of these thoughts in the recesses of my brain, I met up with Emily for our usual morning run.  I was so grateful to have her as a listening ear and to be able to spit out some of the torrent of emotions swirling in my head.  To say the words, "my friend died," seemed easier when accompanied by our heavy breathing and light footfalls as the sun began to rise in the sky.  The run felt cathartic, as emotions oozed out of my pores along with sweat.  I used the run to feel grateful for the moment.  To feel my body as a physical being in space, knowing that our physical existence in this world is tenuous at best.

Today I'll be hugging my kids a little tighter and my mom even tighter still.  Life is short; we must be grateful now.

Wishing peace for Kathy's family and friends.

Seen on the Run: Scoreboard Sunrise

Yesterday, I had the luxury of a late-for-me run.  Heading out at 5:45 on this long summer day meant that my entire run was awash in sunlight.  I slogged through many (many, many) cold and dark 5:00am runs this winter, which make me all the more grateful for this summer's sunshine.

While I made a lap around our neighborhood park, I watched the sun rise through the hills and trees, bathing the entire park in its warmth and golden glow.  The view was remarkable, and I debated stopping to take a picture.  But doing so would involve wrestling my iPhone out of my armband and stopping my GPS, not to mention derail my running groove.  So I took a mental note of the scene and moved on.

Life is good.

About a mile from home, however, I noticed the sun coming up over the football scoreboard at our local high school.  Again, I ran on.  But then I thought about my mantra of 2014: "I am here now."  Wherever here is, whenever now is, I'm trying to be truly present in the moment.  By fixating on my pace rather than appreciating the beauty around me, I was missing a chance to be present.

I stopped and retraced my steps to capture the image.  I'm certainly not a photographer and my sweaty fingers on an iPhone camera can only do so much, but I love the stillness of this image: a peaceful world and a day full of possibilities.  Stopping to capture that moment was worth losing a few seconds on my GPS, and I'm glad I have lasting evidence of this morning's beauty.  And evidence that I can pause my go-go-go brain long enough to soak up a moment.

The Price of Sleeping In

After a broken night sleep, thanks to a cranky, teething one-year-old, I could not force myself out of bed when my alarm sounded at 5:03.  I snoozed once, then twice, then decided that an early run was definitely not going to happen.  I promised myself that I would run on the treadmill at naptime instead.  I silenced the cruel dream-crusher and fluffed my pillow for an extra hour of shut eye.

Once I was really awake, I knew that I would regret my decision to sleep late.  The kids started bickering as soon as they stepped out of bed with J-Bug sobbing three times before she made it to the breakfast table.  I sighed, wishing that I had some post-run endorphins to help me ride the tidal wave of emotions erupting in our house.

Somehow, we survived the rocky start and had a surprisingly good morning.  Some fresh air and friends helped to turn all of our moods around.  By the time everyone was down to nap, I really just wanted to crash and regroup, but I knew that I'd be frustrated with myself if I blew off my run for a second time.  I changed into running clothes, knocked the dust off my treadmill, and got down to work.

Best.craigslist purchase.ever.

My brain could tell that I'd been away from the treadmill for quite some time.  The first mile was agonizingly long and painful as I watched each second tick by on the display.  I found something of a groove late in the run, but it never really became easy.  When I finished, however, I felt unexpectedly happy.  Although I battled mental monkeys throughout the run, when it was over, I felt like a million bucks.  I was proud of myself for following through and logging some miles today.  It would have been easy to skip it entirely, but I chose to do the hard thing and run on the treadmill at an awkward time of day.  While the numbers were nothing extraordinary, the feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming.  This treadmill run was surely successful, but I'll think twice before I snooze my early alarm again...

National Running Day

Today marks National Running Day, a day to celebrate runners and running.  I celebrated by logging a few soggy, pre-dawn miles with Emily.  A light drizzle started just as we met outside her house, and we raced through our miles in order to finish before the real rain started.  The slight rain actually felt cool and refreshing on this steamy June morning, though I'm glad we were not caught out in the downpour that ensued shortly after we finished.

In honor of National Running Day, I've thought about why I run, and I could fill a novel with reasons.  I run for my physical and mental health, to set a good example for my family, to feel ownership over something in my life, to feel a sense of accomplishment, to foster friendships, etc.  But the reason that stands above the others today is one that struck me while Emily and I were running our spring half marathon, my first 13.1 and her fifth.

During the race, we saw a woman wearing a shirt that read "I run for those who can't," a message that hit home for both of us.  Her mom and my aunt are diehard runners whose bodies won't allow them to run anymore.  We knew that they would have given anything to be out on the course with us that April morning.  Every time the race felt difficult, I thought of them and forged ahead, tackling a challenge that they long to be able to do.

I am lucky to be able to run, and I must run in honor of all those who can't.

I always try to remain grateful for the opportunity to run, but today I am trying to be especially thankful for the ability to run.  For a strong body, a powerful mind, a supportive family, a safe environment; all these things which I can so easily take for granted.  I run because I can.  I run for those who can't.

Seen on the Run: Innsbrook

We are spending the holiday weekend at our favorite getaway: my parents' cabin at Innsbrook, MO. Nestled deep in the woods, the cabin is a peaceful oasis for all of us, and runs out here are rather zen-like for me. The stillness of the woods and beauty of nature surround me, helping me to reflect on all of the good things in my life.

I love our neighborhood and wouldn't trade it for the world, but urban runs rarely leave me with the overwhelming gratitude that I feel after a run at Innsbrook. Post run endorphins coupled with deep-seated gratitude equals one happy mama. 

A beautiful view of Lake Lucern early in the morning.

All this bliss doesn't come without a price: did I mention the killer hills? Few flat stretches exist in this little corner of the world, so every run is a hill workout. The inclines used to overwhelm me, but today, I embraced them and dare I say, even enjoyed them. I was sucking wind while my quads burned, but I felt joyful, triumphant, and strong. I will run hills all day long to capture just a glimmer of that feeling.

Getting Back in the Game

Well, this was certainly a longer pregnant pause than I ever imagined.  In the 18-ish months since I last posted, I gestated and birthed a baby, returned to running, found an amazing running partner, raced a 5k, 10k, and half marathon, and connected with mother runners all over the country thanks to Another Mother Runner and Strava.  Far too much to discuss in a single post...

I've been nagging myself for months to return to this blog, but as the days since my last post increased, so did my stress about posting again.  What could I possibly say after such an absence?  How could I write the most clever and poignant post ever to make the wait totally worthwhile?  An epic post isn't going to happen, so I will settle for owning my absence and moving on.

I could easily blame my lack of posting on being a busy mom of three.  For a long time, my gut response to the question "How have you been?" is to say "Busy but good."  I hate the word busy, and I'm trying to eradicate it from my brain and my vocabulary.  Life is obviously busy, and it always will be.  I want to retrain myself to answer that inquiry with the succinct but powerful mantra, "Life is good."  So I won't tell you that I've been absent because I've been busy.  You are surely busy too, and in spite of busy-ness, we make time for the things that matter to us.  Instead, I've been absent because I've been swept up in life, and life is good.  I'm back, and I will try my hardest to remain here.

Morning fog along Highway 21 in Lesterville

Last weekend, life was good on our annual family trip to Black River Lodge in Lesterville, MO.  I snuck out early Sunday morning for a run and was serenaded by birds and cows as I ran through a veil of fog.  This picture does not do justice to the peacefulness and beauty of the morning, but it was the best my sweaty fingers and the iPhone camera could manage.  The run was certainly not the easiest of my life, at least partially due to the s'more or two that I enjoyed the night before.  Nevertheless, it was lovely and freeing.  Life is good.

10 Running-Related Personal Questions

I have not yet posted about my profound admiration for the ladies of Another Mother Runner, but I promise, that post is still to come.  Yesterday, however, Sarah invited us to answer 10 questions about ourselves, and as a rule follower, I feel the need to oblige.  You can read Sarah's answers on the AMR blog; Dimity's are to air later this week.  As for me:

1.  Best run ever:  A scenic 6-mile run last April near my parents' wooded cabin.  The weather was gorgeous; the newly green trees beautiful; the views around the lakes breathtaking.  Before this particular day, I had not run much at their cabin, so the sights and sounds were all new to me.  At one point, I came out of a wooded passage, and as I rounded the curve, the view of the sun rising over the lake was nothing short of spectacular.  In fact, I was so inspired by the beauty of the scenery that I hardly noticed the killer hills, though my quads definitely felt their effects the next day.

2.  Three words that describe my running:  Always moving forward.

3.  My go-to running outfit is:  Fairly basic: a pair of Champion running shorts from Target, a wicking shirt, and a headband to keep my hair out of my eyes.  If I'm running in daylight (unusual on these dark fall mornings), I'll wear a hat, too.

4.  Quirky habit while running:  I always end my run at a house near the end of my block with a giant flagpole.  I have no idea why this became a ritual, but now the flagpole always signifies my finish line.

5.  Morning, midday, evening:  Morning is always my first choice.  I love the quiet stillness of the world when most of its occupants are sleeping.  But sometimes life gets in the way, and I sneak in midday treadmill runs while my kids nap or an evening run after my husband gets home from work.  But morning is always best.

6.  I won't run outside when it's: icy.  I'm cool with rain, snow, heat, and humidity, but I refuse to deal with ice, especially since I have a treadmill for those too-icy-to-hit-the-road days.

7.  Worst injury - and how I got over it:  I've only been running for a little over a year, so to date, I've not had to deal much with injury [have I just jinxed myself by saying that aloud?].  When I increased my mileage last spring, however, I found that my calves were extremely tight all the time.  I added in additional post-run stretches - and forced myself to do them after each run - and my muscle pain quickly dissipated.

8.  I felt most like a badass mother runner when:  I completed my first 10-mile run.  I wanted to log a double-digit run before my one year running anniversary, and I did it two weeks ahead of the deadline. One year previously, I could barely run 60 second intervals.  That lovely June day, I rocked 10 miles and felt like a BAMR.

9.  Next race is:  This Saturday (9/15) - a local 5k in the neighborhood in which I grew up.  A hilly course, but I love running those familiar roads.

10.  Potential running goal for 2013:  I hope to toe the line for a half marathon, most likely in the fall.