2014 in Review

In a year that was pockmarked by family illnesses, major life changes, new realities, and civic unrest, running remained a bright spot and a source of happiness and fulfillment.  Focused on running alone, I couldn't be more pleased with 2014.  The one goal I set for myself for the year was to run a half marathon. I tackled that in April then went one better by adding another in October.  During the training process, I learned how to fuel, recover, and cross train in order to find race day success.

2014 also brought me oodles of support from running friends near and far.  Emily and I logged TONS of miles together, racing side by side for both 13.1 adventures and all the training miles that brought us to those starting lines.  I'm soooo lucky to have such an amazing BRF who lives a mere 22 houses away :)  I also met loads of BAMRs through Strava, and I cannot even begin to express their huge role in my running success.  They keep me motivated, inspired, and entertained.  If I could live anywhere in the world, it would be in Strava-ville.  So many positive people working to better themselves and encourage others to do the same.  Love, love, love!!

My BRF, Emily, who provides miles of laughter, companionship, and motivation.

Besides tackling new distances and solidifying friendships, 2014 also brought several big PRs at a variety of distances.  In July, I set a 10k PR on a hilly course.  I surprised myself in September with a smoking 5k PR, which gave me an age group award, too.  To round out the fall, Emily and I set a half marathon PR in October, blowing our April time out of the water.  Lots of hard work and many miles went into those PRs, and I couldn't be prouder of them.

5k age group award.  I'm ridiculously proud of this little medal.

When I wasn't setting PRs, I worked to expand my running comfort zone.  Formerly a sufferer of new route phobia, I broke free of that in June during my memorable run commute.  I ran 7 miles home from work just ahead of a massive thunderstorm; badass doesn't even begin to cover how I felt at the end of that run.  I continued to enjoy running in new places by running during our family beach vacation in July.  Sunrise run with a beach view?  Yes, please!  But the most memorable runs of the year were in August during our Alaskan cruise.  Running on the cruise ship was an experience unto itself with round-and-round monotony broken up by breathtaking views and crisp fresh air - and quizzical looks from the few passengers up in the wee hours to witness my endless laps.

A beach shoe selfie - a lovely end to my week of running in paradise.

Looking ahead, I'm excited to see what 2015 will bring.  I'm training for my first marathon in April - a guaranteed PR!  I'm looking forward to the marathon journey both in training and on race day.  I have no idea what those miles will hold, but I can't wait to find out!  In the fall, Emily and I want to try for a new half marathon PR.  Solo, I'm not sure that I could do it, but I think we can work together to make it happen. 

What were your 2014 highlights? Any big goals on the horizon for 2015?

Vacation goals

These days, my head is a swirling jumble of reminders, to-do lists, and activities.  I'm trying to maintain a delicate balance between family, marriage, work, volunteer positions at church and school, friendships, my kids' blooming social calendars, and running.  Looking at that list, the rational side of my brain shouts at me to let something go.  Drop a commitment or two and feel liberated from the overburdened life.  But as I read through the list again and again, the only item I could realistically drop is running, and that isn't going to happen.  Running is the singular thing I do for myself most days (well, I shower and brush my teeth, too, but those are more for the greater good of those around me than for personal enjoyment).  Though it adds one more thing to my already full plate, running keeps me balanced and grounded and makes me better able to tackle the rest of the items on my docket.

Because running is not optional, I'm determined to log some miles while on vacation next week.  I'm looking forward to exploring a new area on foot - a statement I couldn't have made a month ago.  No longer burdened by new route phobia, I'm truly excited about running along unfamiliar terrain.  And the idea of cooling off in the pool post-run (and replenishing lost carbs with a beer or two) sounds absolutely delightful.  Perhaps I will give pool running another try, too.  While not my favorite form of cardio, it might be a fun way to change up my exercise habits and take advantage of vacation amenities not available to me at home.

Insert my sisters and me here.  Post-run recovery poolside; does life get any better?

I've never successfully run on vacation before, so this is a new challenge for me, but one that I look forward to tackling.  Are you a vacation runner?  What is your favorite aspect of running while on vacation?

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.

Run Commute

Yesterday's run is one I won't soon forget.  With one of our cars on the fritz, we were juggling child care drop off plus two jobs (all in very different directions) with one vehicle.  To help alleviate some of the logistics, I told my husband that I'd just run home from the train station, eliminating one stop from his route.  He laughed and teased me saying, "Why don't you just run all the way home?"

"Because I don't want to die trying to cross the interstate," I told him.  I was thinking like a driver, not a runner, and I couldn't picture a way to cross the highway safely.  Then I started thinking like a runner and remembered a pedestrian bridge that crosses the highway.  Maybe running home could work after all...

Aerial view of the Hampton/I-64 interchange.  Who wouldn't want to run through this completely-void-of-sidewalks area during rush hour?

I spent the morning hemming and hawing about my options (and working, too!  I promise!).  If I ran home from the train, it would be an easy 2 miles along routes that I travel all the time.  I could add a few extra miles, but they'd be on the same sidewalks I've traversed for years.  On the other hand, if I ran all the way from work, it would be nearly 7 miles along a route I've never run before.  I've been hesitant to break out of my old, familiar routes, so this was my chance to push myself to try something new.

Did I mention that I'm not an afternoon runner?  That it was 77* when I left?  That I've never run more than 5 miles on a weekday?  Go big or go home.  Or in this case, go big to get home.

I planned to leave at 4:00, and I expected to get home around 5:15, allowing time for stop lights, traffic, and water breaks.  At 3:56, my co-worker pointed out the radar, which showed an enormous storm system in Chesterfield ~ 15 miles away.  Knowing that she's a weather expert, I asked if she thought I had time to make it home before the storm unleashed.  "Run fast," she told me.  "It's going to hit around 5:00."

I scrambled out the door, feeling surprisingly fresh for having worked a full day.  I enjoyed running through Forest Park, a popular running route in St. Louis that I had never tried out before.  I found the pedestrian-friendly bridge across I-64 and happily ran through Dogtown.  The sky was cloudy but not threatening, and though the temperature was hot, I was running joyfully and strong.

Around mile 3.5, my little web of happiness began to unravel.  I was approaching the Hill neighborhood and a passing train forced me to stop.  A welcome break for my legs, but as I stood watching the train, I felt the temperature drop radically and noticed an ominous sky just to the west.  I checked the time: 4:32.  I needed to keep moving if I wanted to get home before the storm broke.

Photo courtesy a viewer on kmov.com.
I was too concerned with getting home before the lightning started to snap my own pic, but this was my view as I waited for the train to pass.

Fortunately, it was a short train, and I was soon clambering up the steep incline that gives this famous neighborhood its name.  However, as a gentle rain began to fall, a precursor to the real storm, I started to regret my decision to go big.  I had come a long way and still had far to go.  I was tired, hungry, and just wanted to be finished.  Rather than descend into a spiral of self-doubt, I reminded myself to focus on my form ("long, tall, strong," I repeated ad nauseum), and I started counting down the neighborhoods until I'd be home: the Hill, Northampton, Southampton, then finally Princeton Heights.

The rain picked up around mile 6, but I had made it to a stretch of road that Emily and I run almost every time we lace up.  I checked the time again: 4:54.  "Keep going, Kate.  One mile to go."  Just half a mile from my house, the sky opened up, and the rain began falling in buckets.  "Earn your finish, lady."  I ran as fast as my legs would move, feeling strangely free as the sheets of rain drenched me.  I dashed up to my house and checked the time as I stopped my GPS: 5:02.

Dripping wet, I stood on my back porch and marveled at what I had done: I broke through my new route phobia, ran at an unusual time of day, and outran the lightning.  Badass doesn't even begin to capture the intensity of my emotions as I wrung the water out of my hat and watched the rain pelt our backyard.  I set out to do something hard, and I did it, excelling far beyond what I imagined I could do.  I'm so grateful that running helps me to push past my imagined boundaries, set and achieve new goals, and become a more balanced wife/mother/friend in the process.

New Route Phobia

The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem: I am afraid to try a run outside my neighborhood.  Heck, the only 5k I've ever run was practically in my backyard.  It's not the newness that scares me necessarily.  I love running in my neighborhood and the adjoining ones, and I always experiment with new routes within their boundaries.  But the thought of running outside their limits paralyzes me.

I run this stretch of road almost every time I lace up.

I can't explain it.  I've lived in this area for most of my life (save the 6 years I spent in college and graduate school), so I'm very familiar with a wide area outside my neighborhood.  I drive these roads all the time without batting an eyelash, and I see runners on them regularly.  But when it's time for me to run, I'm a homebody.  I've trapped myself within the limits of Princeton Heights, Southampton, and St. Louis Hills and can't bring myself to run outside their bounds.

I ran my first 10-miler a few weeks ago.  Because of my new route phobia, I ran every possible neighborhood loop to cover the distance.  It seems rather absurd to say that I ran 10 miles but was never more than 2 miles from my house.  But that's a fact.

I think the beauty of a long run is the chance to see more of the world, to cover more ground, and to run in new places.  But I'm stuck within my perceived boundaries and seemingly unable to break out.  I don't have a solution or even a strategy, but I'll keep working on it.  In the meantime, I'll continue to wear a path on my familiar, comfortable roads - and I'm okay with that.