Cross Training: DoYogaWithMe.com

Continuing my pursuit for high-quality, free cross training, I've recently focused my search on yoga options.  I've found some duds, but I've also found some keepers, including my current favorite: DoYogaWithMe.com.  This site offers an enormous quantity of yoga videos: detailed explanations of individual poses, guided meditations, explanations of proper breathing and posture, and full-length classes for all ability levels.  And it doesn't cost a dime.  Be still, my frugal heart!

Though the site offers an abundance of choices, many of which are available on YouTube as well, I am a creature of habit and keep returning to the same two classes.  My tried-and-true options focus on releasing tension in the hips, hamstrings, and lower back, classic trouble zones for runners.  When I'm in a time crunch, I opt for the 28-minute version, but my body is so thankful when I spend 48 minutes on the full version.

The classes are taught by David Procyshyn, founder of DoYogaWithMe.com.  His pace is slow, giving beginners time to find their way into the poses and allowing more experienced participants an opportunity to really settle in and feel the poses' effects.  He provides highly detailed explanations and moves fluidly from one pose to the next.  I appreciate that he spends equal time on each side of the body; it seems that some instructors shortchange the second side, but David does not fall into this trap.  And the poses included in these videos target all of the hot spots in my body!  Every overworked running muscle finally relaxes when I follow these sequences.

Both videos can be done without any specialized yoga equipment.  A mat, block, and strap are useful, but you can easily substitute for them.  I use an old tie in place of a strap and a diaper wipe container instead of a block.  (I wasn't kidding when I called myself stingy!)  I do have an actual yoga mat, which I highly recommend if you can spring for one.  Its cushiony surface is gentle on the joints, and its standard size helps me locate my body in the proper position and better emulate the instructor.

If you're considering adding yoga to your running routine, I highly recommend browsing this site.  Report back if you find other videos there that you enjoy!

Five Miles for Ferguson

As the entire world knows, my beloved hometown is wrought with tension, anger, and unrest today.  I understand the anguish over a lost human life.  I understand the desire for justice.  I understand the frustration with inequality.  But I don't understand violence, hatred, and vandalism.  Peaceful protests take a stand and push for change; violence simply creates more violence.

With all of these thoughts weighing heavily on my heart, I woke up this morning and prepared for a solo run.  I scanned news headlines and #ferguson on Twitter to learn that cooler heads had not prevailed during the (too few) hours that my head was on the pillow.  I laced up and headed towards the door with apprehension and unease.  What would I hear when I opened it?  Would I see smoke on the horizon?  My neighborhood is 15 miles from the Ferguson rioters and 5 from the Shaw demonstrations.  Rationally, I knew there was no chaos in my immediate vicinity, but I couldn't help feeling queasy as I set out.

I traced a familiar route, and the emotions I'd been quashing came bubbling up to the surface:  Anger over the senseless violence.  Heartbreak for the businesses and residents of Ferguson.  Disappointment that our city couldn't maintain peaceful protests while in the international spotlight.  Uncertainty about how I would explain to my children why their school is closed today.  Guilt that I could spend an hour running alone through a beautiful neighborhood while just a few miles away families don't have that luxury.  Further guilt that I can tell my children that this is a grown-up problem and they are safe while my counterparts in Ferguson cannot do the same; for too many children, the violence and hatred is an unavoidable reality.  Overwhelming grief and sadness that no one wins in this situation.  We all lose.

At the end of my run, I desperately wanted to witness a beautiful sunrise,
as a promise that darkness does not last forever, that hope springs from defeat.
 Instead, I found this cloudy sky whose gloom matched that of my heart.

I pounded through the miles, letting my thoughts wander and tears flow.  I forced myself to use the time to process so I could answer my kids' questions and survive this emotionally exhausting day.  At the end of the run, I had not resolved any of my questions nor had I reconciled my thoughts and feelings.  But I was five miles stronger, five miles more balanced, five miles closer to accepting that I will never understand the complexity of humankind.  It's not much, but it's a start.

This shirt was a must today: because I decompressed on the run,
I can handle (almost) whatever this day throws at me.

We - the collective we - have many more miles to log before we can settle the unrest and heal the hurt.  I pray that we can find peace in our city and muster energy to rebuild the massive destruction of our hearts, businesses, and communities.  If you're the praying sort, please pray for peace in St. Louis and throughout our nation.  If not, carry Ferguson in your heart; offer your miles for those who cannot safely log their own today.

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?

Why I Love Running in St. Louis

The iconic Gateway Arch anchors the St. Louis skyline.

I'm a native St. Louisan, and though I left for 6 years of college and graduate school, my heart has always been in this city.  Especially at this time of year with the Cardinals playing post-season baseball, it's hard not to get swept up in civic pride.  So it feels like a good time to expound upon the reasons I love living and running here in the Gateway to the West:

• Friendly running community: St. Louisans are generally friendly folks (unless you start belittling their beloved Cardinals), and the runners here are no different.  I always wave at other runners I encounter and can usually count on one finger the number of people who do not return my greeting.
• Terrific retail support:  Big River Running company, an anchor in the St. Louis running community, has been honored as one of the best running stores in the country.  Their customer service is second to none with a knowledgeable staff who are happy to support back-of-the-packers and elites alike.  They sponsor weekly group runs, training programs for both beginning and experienced runners, educational clinics, and more.
• Great trail network:  The Great Rivers Greenway has been at work for decades creating an interconnected web of paved trails throughout the metropolitan area.  Our neighborhood is near several trails, which Emily and I love to explore on our long runs.  Additionally, many runner-friendly parks, such as Forest Park and Castlewood State Park, feature grassy trails for those seeking an off-road expeience.
• Good local organizations:  Organizations like GO! St. Louis and the St. Louis Track Club go to great lengths to support local runners.  They host various race distances throughout the year, ranging from 1-mile kids runs to 5k/10k to half and full marathons.  They also provide arenas for runners to network and support each other's endeavors.
• Wonderful weather - sometimes:  Local St. Louisans always like to comment on the weather, especially this oft-repeated gem: "You don't like the weather?  Just wait an hour; it'll change."  Though slightly exaggerated, that statement holds a fair amount of truth.  We experience the full range of weather around here, with bitterly cold and icy winters and hot, muggy summers.  But in between, we delight in beautiful spring and fall running seasons.  After coming off either extreme season, I feel like I can fly during the mild months.  It makes the humid/icy/scorching/frigid weather all worth it - sorta ;)

What do you like best about running in your area?

Race Photo Gone Wrong

I received notice that finish line photos from my recent 5k were available for viewing.  Knowing that such photos of me always fail to impress, I clicked the link with low expectations.  What I found has left me giggling throughout the day.  The organizers included a caveat that photos were tied to race finishing time, so the photos linked to my bib might include others who finished with the same overall time.  Ok, no big deal.

Then I started scrolling through the pictures and quickly realized that I finished with quite a crowd: that guy I chicked right at the finish line, a speedy middle schooler, a 20-something who looked ready to keel over.  Finding myself among the crowd felt a bit like exploring a Where's Waldo book.  Eventually, I found a snippet of my arm, a piece of my skirt, and a glimpse of my face - over someone's shoulder.  The best pic by far, however, was this gem:

Kudos on a great race, sir.

A well-framed photo of this man, who won the 70+ age group and ran a killer race, but definitely not a photo of me.  Fortunately, my friend's husband snapped a photo of me crossing the finish line:

Skirt sparkling, tall form, and from this distance,
you can't see my I-might-puke face.

Needless to say, I won't be purchasing any finish line photos from this event.  What was your best race photo?  Have you ever snagged a good one?

What if Everybody Ran?

Inspired by Mizuno's current marketing campaign, I've been toying with the thought "what if everybody ran." Mizuno commissioned a statistical study to examine this question and compiled a number of figures: 48 million fewer cigarettes smoked per day, 20 million more great grandmothers, 7 billion more hours spent outdoors, etc.

I love this sentiment and the fact that Mizuno took time to actually study it. I always say that the world would be a better place if there were more runners, especially mother runners. All runners are amazing, but mother runners (or BAMRs, as we like to be called) are a special subset of this special group. They know how to work hard, make sacrifices, and persevere until the job is done. BAMRs pass these lessons on to their children, who learn by example that discipline, consistency, and persistence pay off; that strengthening one's body also strengthens the spirit; that faced with failure, we can shake off our disappointment and try again. How radically different would our society be if these were the messages we handed down to our future leaders?!

Ok, deep breath. I'll step off my soapbox now. I intended to take a more comic approach to this question, so let's move on to the lighthearted part. If everybody ran:

• well-stocked and perfectly clean restrooms would be available on every corner. 
• you would find Gu and Nuun in grocery checkouts as impulse-buy items.
• last season's running shoes would be perfectly acceptable footwear for any social occasion. 
• yoga for runners and basics of foam rolling would be a required component of high school PE programs. 
• tax refunds would be given in the form of race entries. 
• compression gear would be considered work - and date night - appropriate. 

If everybody ran, the world would be full of healthy, balanced people working to better themselves and their environment one step at a time. What do you think the world would be like if everybody ran? Both serious and silly responses welcome :)

Skirt Bliss

Though I've always considered myself more of a tomboy than a girly girl, I have fully embraced running in a skirt.  My 14-year-old self is groaning at that statement and rolling her eyes.  And for good reason: my teenage self had a complete aversion to skirts and dresses.  For nearly 6 years, these legs never saw the inside of a skirt or dress, unless it was the plaid variety required by my Catholic schools.

When I first heard of running skirts, I reverted to my teenage attitude and scoffed at the idea.  A skirt for running?  Give me a break.  Though I no longer rebel against the skirt as a clothing option, I usually save skirts for church or important meetings at work.  To wear one for fun seemed completely out of the question.  Until it didn't...  I saw a woman running in a skirt, and the advantages of the skirt started to add up in my brain:

1. Bicycle shorts underneath to prevent chafing.
2. The skirt over said bicycle shorts provides some modesty for the runner who doesn't want the whole world to see every curve of her lower half.
3. They look good, which makes me feel good and perform better.

The last point is really the biggest selling point for me.  I have no concrete evidence to prove my theory, but my runs feel faster and more effortless when I wear my running skirt.  Something about feeling it swish around my powerful glutes and quads makes the effort seem more manageable.  I'm sure it's all in my head, but since 90% of running is also in my head, I'll take whatever advantage I can get.

Sunshine + running skirt.  Does it get any better?

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.

The Best Time to Blog

When I'm out for a run, I compose the most eloquent and insightful blog posts.  They are witty and entertaining, not to mention poignant and thought-provoking.  Then somehow, when the run is complete, my brain draws a sudden blank.  Not only do I forget my clever phrases, but I can't even recall the basic subject matter on which they were based.

I blame Mommy brain.  After a run, I'm quickly thrown into the three ring circus that is my life, so all leisurely moments for independent thought evaporate faster than the sweat in my sports bra.  (Much faster in fact.  Probably time to invest in sports bras that weren't made in the 1990s...)

I love snarky ecards ;)

So I do my best to put some inspiring words in print here, but know that my best work probably stays in the recesses of my brain only to be released while out on the road.

Looming Large

I'm planning to run a local 5k in about 10 days, a race during which I made my 5k debut last year.  Which in fact, is still the only race I've actually run.  But that's an entirely separate post.

This race traces through the neighborhood in which I grew up, and I love running along those streets that I've tread since I was very small.  There's one part of the course, however, that is a treacherous and seemingly endless hill.  It starts right around mile 2, and for me, that is always the hardest part of a 5k.  I've run far enough to feel fatigued but the end is still nowhere in sight.  Add that mental low to a serious hill and it makes for a tough race.

The hills are all in my head.  I know my legs are strong; it's my brain that needs to catch up.

I haven't run this part of the course in months, so I revisited it last week, and as I remembered, it felt very difficult.  The trouble is that the hill seems to go on forever.  You can't see the entire hill from the bottom as a curve obstructs the view.  When I reach the point that initially looked like the top, I follow the curve and realize I've only finished half of the hill.  Even though I've run this hill many times, it still looms large in my head.

This weekend, I knew I had to nip my worries about this hill in the bud.  We visited my parents' cabin, which is set in a heavily wooded and highly hilly area.  The hills near their cabin put all inclines near my house to shame, so as I ran up and down them on Saturday, my legs learned the true meaning of the word hill.  I conquered some big ones this weekend - longer, steeper, and scarier than the one in the upcoming 5k - and it felt great.

Two Runs to Remember

I've drafted many posts over the past week but have yet to publish anything.  I'm feeling out of my groove, in both running and regular life, and though drafting posts about it has been useful, I've been too chicken to actually publish the raw, inner workings of my brain.  So today I try, yet again, to write something I'm willing to publish.

A terrible morning run on Saturday spiraled into a terrible mood for the remainder of the day.  I couldn't find my rhythm throughout the run.  It was hot and humid.  The path I was running was crowded.  My shoes weren't laced properly.  My phone rang multiple times.  I stopped to walk more times than I care to remember.  I was only trying to pound out 3-ish miles, but every step was torture, and I felt absolutely defeated by the time I returned to my front door.

There are good days and bad days in all of life.  Why should running be any different?  But it seems particularly frustrating to have a bad run since my run is my "me" time, my chance to regroup so that I can conquer the rest of the day's tasks.  When the run is sour, I come home crabby, frustrated with my body and my brain, and unfortunately, my family gets caught in the crossfire.

Fast forward (past the crabbing and the apologies) to Monday: I returned to the road and was rewarded with a beautiful run.  It was insanely humid (my palms were slick the entire run just from the moisture in the air!), but oddly, that did not faze me at all.  I quickly found my rhythm and ended up running further than I had planned simply because I was having fun.  My brain was quiet, my body in sync, and all felt right with the world.

The difference between the two runs was incredible.  While nothing felt right on Saturday, the world was my oyster on Monday.  It serves as a good reminder that not every run will be great, but I can appreciate the good runs because I survived the bad ones.  Yet another way that running is a perfect metaphor for life...

A Social Run

Though I've occasionally run with my husband, I am almost exclusively a solo runner.  I mostly run solo out of necessity: I have few real-life running friends and my usual early morning runs don't appeal to a broad audience.  This week, however, my runner cousin is visiting from DC, and a run seemed like the perfect opportunity for us to reconnect.

She's training for a late-fall marathon, and I'm just easing back into running after my hellish month of July, but we were surprisingly able to settle into a comfortable pace for a 3 mile run last night.  We chatted the entire way, covering topics from alternative transportation options in DC to preschool temper tantrums.  We also had those conversations that only appeal to runners, like emergency bathroom stops and our favorite places to run in our hometowns.  We are separated in age by 5 years, which as kids was a sizable gap, but it was wonderful to connect as adults and runners, bonding over shared sweat and a few killer hills.

I've been slowly climbing out of the funk brought on by my frustrating summer.  I've had some reasonably good runs this month but none that brought me anywhere near the euphoria of past runs.  Last night, however, I felt great physically and mentally.  It turns out that a companion was just what I needed to find my runner's high again.

I didn't know the truth of this until this week.

Running Haiku

A little haiku I composed today while riding the train to work:

sweet muscle fatigue
reminder of a strong run
brings me inner peace

Today's tired legs mean I will be strong for tomorrow's run.

Strange as it sounds, the achiness in my legs after a run is a pleasant reminder of the time I took to make myself stronger.  I embrace the pain (within reason) as part of my road to inner and outer strength, and it serves as a tangible reminder of what I've done for ME lately.

Dealing with Frustration

For medical reasons, I'm currently a sidelined runner.  I haven't run in a week, and I'm not sure if it will be days, weeks, or months until I can run again.  I'm trying to exercise patience with the situation, though that is easier said than done.

Our city's heat wave finally broke today (with a high only in the low 90s), which really had me itching for a run.  As I took care of a few errands this evening, it looked to me like the entire city was out running while I sat idly by.  I passed my usual routes and felt a pang of envy for those out running on my favorite stretches of sidewalk.

However, I'm trying to keep this hiatus in perspective.  I don't necessarily have to run today; I want to be a lifelong runner.  If not running right now means that I can continue to run for years to come, then my current break from running is well worthwhile.  I'm allowing myself this virtual pity party, but I need to accept this as a bump in the road and move on with life.  There will be more runs for me in the future when my body is ready to accept them.  In the meantime, I need to focus on all of the good things in my life and know that my return to running will be so much sweeter because of this break.  Absence makes the (already fond) heart grow fonder.

A good reminder for me as I wait out this period of unknown.

Why I Run: To Set an Example

I run to set an example for my kids.  I want them to see running as not only an activity that improves my health, but as one of the ways I take care of myself.  I brush my teeth, I visit my OB annually, I run; in all of these ways, I take care of me.

My kids watch me as I spend most of my day taking care of others: fixing meals, patching up skinned knees, settling arguments, folding laundry.  But when I put on my running shoes, they know that I'm heading out for some personal time.  When I come back, I'm hot and sweaty, but I'm also relaxed and refreshed.

I want my kids to know that taking care of themselves is just as important as taking care of others.  Not in a narcissistic way, but if we do not care for ourselves, what could we possibly offer to anyone else?  A broken foundation can do little to support its surrounding structure.  Since I feel like the foundation for my family, I know that I need to care for myself, and I want my kids to learn this lesson, too.

Running is the mortar that helps hold the bricks of my foundation in place.

Though they are only 2- and 4-years-old, I think running is starting to infiltrate their lives.  They point out passing runners when we are in the car, and they hold races in our backyard all the time.  They joined me as we cheered for my husband at his first 5k earlier this summer, cheering not only for their dad but also for all the other runners who passed our corner.

Even if running does not become their lifelong habit, I hope they find something to do that is just for them.  Perhaps it will be music, woodworking, poetry, or cycling.  I don't care what it is.  I just hope that they find it and cherish it as much as I do running.

Slogging through the Humidity

As we're entering our sixth consecutive day of 100+ degree temperatures, an outdoor run at any time of day seems like an arduous task.  I've done a number of treadmill runs during this hot streak, but this morning, I set off early for an outdoor run.  Though the temperature was wonderful (low 70s), the humidity and air quality were abysmal.  My lungs felt like they could never quite fill up, and the air felt thick and heavy.

Today's run felt as humid as this, though of course my landlocked city does not include a gorgeous beach view.  All the humidity; none of the views.

I told myself that my pace didn't matter; I just had to go out and do something for 30 minutes.  It's difficult for my Type A brain to accept such an assignment, but I did make a concerted effort to take it easy.  And if my heart rate monitor's data is trustworthy, I did relax my effort a bit.  Both my maximum and my average heart rates were slightly lower than they were on my recent treadmill runs.

I'm hoping for a break in the heat to clear out the humidity and refresh the air supply.  Though in July in St. Louis, this hope is probably more of a pipe dream...

Faith-Filled Running

One thing that has surprised me most about running is that I use it as a chance to pray.  As I perform the repetitive act of running, my mind is free of the usual clutter, and I can really focus on prayer.  Especially on a long run, where I have many, many miles to spend in solitude, prayer keeps my feet moving forward.

Occasionally I launch into detailed conversations with God, but most times, I just repeat a single prayer over and over as a sort of mantra.  I pray for strength to conquer the battles in my own life, and I pray for the broader social troubles in our world.  Sometimes I don't formalize it as prayer, but when I run, I always feel gratitude for the clean air, the physical and mental strength that allows me to run, and the peacefulness of the world in the early morning.

Those who hope in the Lord. . . will run and not grow weary.

I think running strengthens my soul as much as it strengthens my body. To me, running is a physical manifestation of our spiritual trials.  While running, I force my body to plod onward climbing one more hill, finishing one more mile.  Likewise, in my spiritual life, I carry on through trials and tribulations knowing that I just have to keep going; I have to sweat through the spiritual miles, trusting in God that He will see me through.  The practice of sweating through the physical miles builds spiritual as well as physical stamina and keeps me mentally capable of enduring the spiritual miles, too.

The spiritual component of running has been significant for me almost from the start.  Yet, this is probably the first time I've shared this part of my running with anyone.  When people ask what I think about during a long run, I never say that I spend much of it praying.  Instead, I say that I enjoy quiet time to think and solve the world's problems.  Why am I afraid to talk about my spiritual connection in running?  Perhaps because most people think running 10 miles is crazy enough; if I told them that I spent those miles talking to God, they'd probably send me to a loony bin.

But I don't think it's crazy.  And I think the spiritual aspect is one of the main reasons I've been so religious (pardon the pun) about sticking to my running schedule.  Running makes me stronger: mind, body, and soul.

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.

Lake Running

I've read about pool running but have never had occasion to give it a try.  While spending the weekend at my parents' lake house, however, my mom and I tried running in the lake.  And boy was it a great workout!!

Sandy beaches and peaceful water at the lakes of Innsbrook.

We ran laps in waist-deep water.  Between the wind, the wake we created, and the sandy bottom that kept sucking our shoes, it was an intense 30 minutes.  I definitely got my heart rate elevated very quickly; it felt like a good hill workout.  After running our laps, we tread water for still more cardio work.  My mom is far superior at treading and did an interval of hands-free treading.  I, on the other hand, had to use my hands in order to stay above water.

All in all, it was a great workout and a nice deviation from my regular routine.  I hope to do more lake running throughout the summer!