In My Skin - A Body Image Revelation

I think I’ve discovered Nirvana.

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ve witnessed first hand that I have body image issues. That’s a really dramatic sentence for a very low-drama reality. I mean really, in honesty, don’t most 20-something women have body issues?

I’ve had my share of frustrating shopping trips, poked at every area of my body before walking around in a swimsuit. I’ve pulled and pushed my stomach to figure out which way I look best. I’ve dieted, I’ve lost a lot of weight and I’ve gained weight. And through all of that, I’ve dealt with the mind games we play with ourselves. “If I just lost x pounds…if I looked like x super model…”

Let me tell you what you already know: it’s all crap.

The other night, I came home from the gym and was about to grab a shower. I shrugged my shirt off and flexed my arms in the mirror. Instead of jumping to criticism, for some reason, this time I smiled and turned so I could see my back in the adjoining mirror. I repeated this process head to toe standing there in my running capris and sports bra. Sure, I could drum up some criticism, but why? Instead of hitting myself with negative comments, I looked at myself proudly. Damn. I look strong.

And a word about shopping and fashion...This skinny jean fad is pretty much crap. Y’all, I am tired of saying to sales people and my shopping buddies “yeah, no on the skinny jeans. I have big legs” and getting this response “oh stop, you are so thin.”

I’m not saying I won’t wear skinny jeans because I think I'm fat. I’m saying I won’t wear skinny jeans because honey, these legs run marathons. I have a lot of strong, powerful, sexy muscle in my legs and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m proud of it because I worked for it. I don’t want skinny legs, mine are just fine, thanks. It would be really awesome if fashion decided to ditch the skinny jean fad, though.  Can’t a girl get a normal cut jean in one of those awesome colors? Who wants to have “matchstick” legs anyway. Eww.

I have always been concerned about my arms. You know that girl who worries about her arms in photos? That was me. But now, I look at my arms and I thank swimming. They haven’t gotten smaller, they’ve gotten stronger. My shoulders have gotten broader and stronger. And when I’m a half mile away from shore in my half IM, I will be very very grateful for all that muscle and power and strength.

For the first time in my adult life, I’m not thinking (or caring) about what I weigh or what size pants I’m wearing. I care about how fast I run, how strong I can swim, and whether or not I’m going to eat it on the bike (odds are currently 3-1 on eating it). I have no idea what I weigh and I literally have 4 different sizes in my closet (and I fit in all of them. A size label doesn't define you). I strongly suggest you put yourself on the road to finding that self acceptance. It is an astounding freedom. 

I care about my performance, my health, my strength…not so much that I’m not a waifish stick figure. I’ve actually even begun to find it unattractive and unappealing in fashion magazines to see size 00 women. And wouldn't you know...I haven't been sick (aside from the Noro Virus) in months.

If you’ve fallen into the “if I lose weight I will run faster” mindset, do yourself a favor and please read my teammate Victoria’s blog post about Weight Versus Running Speed and do some reevaluation.

So how do you get to this magical head space? The secret is not to run out and sign up for a half Ironman, nor is it to get to a point where you’re happy with your body and work like hell to stay there. It's to focus on the positive. For me, it took signing up for a half Ironman to rob me of any time for negative thought. All I can think about (and really, WANT to think about) in my spare time is how to train, when to train, gear I want need, workouts, food, etc. etc. etc. There's no time for negativity and I'm kicking myself that it's taken this long to get here. 

Take a moment and promise yourself that at least once today, you'll stop a negative body image thought and replace it with something physical about your body that you're proud of.

Being comfortable in your own skin is really worth it.

A Race By Any Other Name

On May 4^th, I was halfway to Cincinnati when my phone buzzed. We were stoped at a gas station that proclaimed a very bastardized acclamation of the Gospel (sorry to anyone but rich, white landowners, heaven, apparently, just ain’t for you!). I was basically in nowheresville.

I checked my email, expecting spam or work and instead saw this:

From: Ironman 70.3 National Harbor
Subject: Important Event News

You tell me what you think when you see that. I had two thoughts: 1) I probably need to request a start time or something. 2) The race is cancelled.

#2 was the correct gut feeling. This was the content of the email:

Dear Ironman 70.3 National Harbor Athlete, 

The inaugural Ironman 70.3 National Harbor Triathlon has been cancelled. Athletes registered for the event will receive a full refund of their entry and processing fees.Refunds will be issued within 30 days and will be credited to the card used for registration through the Active Network. 

Ironman is committed to helping participants reach their goal of racing an Ironman 70.3 in 2012 and will further offer each athlete impacted by the cancellation a $50 discount to one of the events listed below: 

[Blah blah blah list of races and how to re-register] 

Thank you for your understanding and patience through this process. We wish you the best of luck with your training and racing.

I’ll leave the commentary to other bloggers who have better deconstructed this quick cancellation, but I can tell you what I thought: nothing.

I was so caught up in the travel to Cincinnati that I literally had 0 concern for this. I was really lucky. I got on the phone with my coach immediately who, of course, already knew about the cancellation. She encouraged me to not worry about it, that she already had some options lined up for me, and that we’d talk about those after Flying Pig – but not now. In case you were ever considering getting a coach, this is one of those top 5 reasons to have one.

I will admit that I did spend a good portion of the drive wondering why. Having worked in PR before, this hasty cancellation without explanation was driving me mad. I knew something else was behind it. Coach mentioned the National Harbor’s bad rap for hosting races (anyone remember the Hot Chocolate 15k?) 

I also remembered the problems that DC Rainmaker had when he previewed the course  and that the Potomac has been worse and worse for race conditions (to the point where swims are frequently cancelled). 

When Coach said that this cancellation was a good thing, I believed her. But my PR mind was still chugging. You only send out bad news at 4pm on a Friday. Twitter rumors were swirling, lots of finger pointing was going on, but in the end, this was the second email we received, almost two weeks later:

Dear Athlete,
The Ironman 70.3National Harbor Triathlon was cancelled because not enough athletes were registered for the event. 

Initially we kept quiet because Ironman asked us to stay silent, not post anything on social media and not send out any press releases so that the damage to Ironman’s brand would be minimized. We were fools to agree and that was a big mistake on our part. 

We should have communicated immediately and told you the reason from the start. We have nothing to hide from the truth and were just initially intimidated by Ironman's request. 

We apologize.

I believe almost 90% of this. There’s something else, but it’s neither here nor there.

I got an email from Coach the morning after my marathon and reviewed my options:

• Ironman 70.3 Timberman, New Hampshire
• Patriot’s Half in Williamsburg, VA
• Ironman 70.3 Austin

I also looked at the list and, at the urging of my twitter friends, added two more to the maybe pile:

• Ironman 70.3 Augusta
• Beach to Battleship, North Carolina

I nixed Timberman pretty quickly. I don’t know New Hampshire and it’s a long drive (flight?) and it just seemed like it may as well be in a foreign country when you applied a half ironman to it. Austin is a bit late in the season, and since I’m pretty sure I want to do Giant Acorn (how can you not with a name like that?), it didn’t work. Especially not if I sign up for the Richmond Marathon.

While I was batting around ideas for a new race with my friends in Cincinnati, I floated Augusta. A friend said that the swim course was the easiest for an Ironman – it’s in a river, with current. This was sorely tempting to me, but pride beat me when the same friend said, “I hear that a doritos bag made the swim in 45 minutes.” Pass.

Between B2B and Patriot’s I have two great options for a new 70.3. The only thing that stuck with me was that neither is Ironman branded. In fact, Patriot’s is actually 2 miles longer (on the bike) than an IM 70.3.

I sat down and tried to deconstruct this one night on my bike trainer. If you’ve been on a trainer at all, you’ll know that you do a lot of thinking on that bastard piece of shit (read the link, trust me, you’ll die laughing. Scroll down for description)  

I realized after an hour of going no where (literally), that a brand name doesn’t make the race. The effort and time and training I put into it makes it a race. I started out with this thought process:

My heart says I should choose Patriots. Coach will be there, Williamsburg is close, it’s cheaper than an IM race, and some of my teammates are going. I should do Patriots.

But it’s not an IM branded race. Do I care? I feel like I should care. You were in marketing. You realize that this is basically just good marketing. It’s 2 miles longer than an IM. That makes it more badass. They should make magnets specifically for this one. 72.3. “Well, yes, I’ve done a half IM, but it was 2 miles longer.” This isn’t my only 70.3. This is a good first one. Admit it, you had nightmares about T1 from National Harbor.

But what about Augusta? That’s close to my folks. But then you’ll have done the easiest of the half IMs. Pansy. No, not pansy. Half IM. I hate my bike trainer. This thing is a piece of crap. Why am I on this bike? I could give up training right here, right now. I could just quit while I’m ahead with a sub 4 marathon. That’s pretty beast.

After a lot [more] of inner monologue, which I will spare you, I came to the conclusion that a brand doesn’t make a race any more or less awesome. Ironman or not, I’m doing a 7[2].3 and what will make that race badass is that I will have trained and poured myself into that accomplishment.

How about you? Does race branding matter to you? If so, why?

The Flying Pig Marathon...or How I Learned to Love the Marathon

If you follow me on Twitter, then you already know my big news:

3:57:15

That is 2 minutes and 45 seconds under 4 hours. It’s also 10 minutes and 49 seconds faster than my last marathon.

I’ve had so much to say about this last weekend that I’ve put off writing this blog post in hopes that it would just write itself, but it’s not gonna happen like that and I don’t want to forget anything. I finally just wrote down an outline and now I’m going to get to it on my lunch break.

The Trip to Cincinnati

I have the incredible fortune of being part of the Ragnar family. I have a network of teammates who are basically as nuts as I am. When I posted on Facebook that I was considering doing Flying Pig, four of my teammates were immediately registered and on board. We picked up some other Ragnarians and were suddenly 7 on our way to Cincinnati.

We rented a Ragnar van (that I can’t park very well)

Ragnar Van

And made the 10 hour trip to Cincinnati. We talked, laughed, played apples to apples, slept, ate, stopped to pee and I felt like I'd known these people all my life. There was a lot of flying tulle since we were also all making our tutus. We got into Erlanger, Kentucky at some god awful hour in the night after some pro rain-driving by Renee.

Our hotel was basically between Cincinnati and the place that God forgot. Don't get me wrong, the people in Erlanger are wonderfully hospitable, but there is precisely 1 gas station, 2 motels, a biker bar called Peecox and a Waffle House.

Peecox

The Expo

On Saturday, after a butter filled breakfast at Waffle House (thank God I had a little exercise planned for the weekend), we headed out to Cincinnati (about 20 minutes away) to pick up our packets.

Ragnar Ambassadors!

I have to congratulate the Flying Pig on their organization. We found parking easily and popped in. I didn't wait in line for a single thing. We picked up packets, took pictures with pig statues:

Pigippides!

We walked through a lot of great vendors. My haul included:

- Flying Pig Pearl Izumi Cycling Jersey

- Flying Pig "Piglitically Correct" mug

- Flying Pig pint glass

- Flying Pig T-Shirt

- "Multi-Talented Swim Bike Run" bamboo shirt

- Pocket bra (for those hours on the bike trainer when I want a place for my phone)

- Gus, Body Glide, and a blister kit (this will be a big mistake)

- MORE sweaty bands (seriously, it's an addiction, y'all)

At the end of the expo, you pick up your tech shirt, the duffle bag, and a marathon poster - great race swag.

Pre-Race Day

At this point, we were all hungry and tired and needed to get off our feet, put food in our mouths and get back to resting. So Cheesecake Factory and back to the hotel for beers and sitting outside while I finished my tutu. 

Not my tutu - but Renee's prototype is pretty awesome

At this point, I was starting to get nervous. Like I said prior to the marathon, I felt like I hadn't worried enough for there to be a marathon just around the corner. I kept telling myself that in 24 hours, I'd be in a van driving back home, this awesome weekend would be coming to a close and that all I had to do was run for 4 hours. Everyone else went for dinner at the Peecox, but I moved into my solo hotel room, organized for the morning and went out for a walk.

I found myself in a little glen. The Super Moon was out, the silence was only disturbed by the quiet hush of the highway and evening bird calls, and the light was just finishing fading.

I stood there for a good 15 minutes. I prayed aloud. I walked in circles. I did little jogs back and forth. I stood in silence and this is what came to me:

I am blessed to be able to run. I am blessed to be in Cincinnati with good friends. This weekend has been an amazing break from reality and all too soon, it will be over. The training is over and the race is here and at this point, all I can do is run. That was Chadd's advice to me before my first marathon and I've held on to it since: it's just running.

I tucked into bed and thought about writing a blog post, but eventually decided it wasn't worth the time. No use spending time worry about what is already done. In a marathon, the race is never about the actual race - it's all about the training. 

Race Day

Race morning came and we piled into the van around 5:30. We got there with plenty of time to spare. We all dawned our tutus, body glided, and went to the bathroom a couple million times. I felt an amazing sense of calm through the morning. It didn't hurt that I was with multi-marathoners who were calm and collected. My friends had been right - not having a race crew is sometimes a great thing. I wasn't worried about where someone needed to be or how they were feeling or if I'd see them along the course. Instead, I was focused on how amazingly short the portapotty lines were (again, nice going Flying Pig).

Justin and Jason

Matchy Matchy

Justin, Me, Ayla, Amanda, Renee, and Jason (sans Jerry)

Ayla and I jumped into the "Pen" and waited for the gun. When we lurched forward, I ran through all the things my coach and I had talked about:

The Race

The first 9 miles I was to stay behind the 4 hour pace group. If they came out too fast, I should let them go, but keep them as a beacon. I stayed about 30-50 seconds behind the pink balloons. Every time I edged up to them, I forced myself back. I'm certainly glad I did because FPM is not a course to plan to bank time. The course is gorgeous - you go over a bridge into Kentucky, then back into Cincinnati over another bridge. Incredibly soon, there you are at the 6 mile point, where every runner feels that sickness in the pit of their stomach. The hill.

At the turn to 6, there was a "Squealer Party Zone" where volunteers and other supporters are stationed, screaming and cheering. Everyone loved my tutu. I mean, how can you not? Everyone started chanting "PINK TU-TU! PINK TU-TU!" So, naturally, I started blowing kisses. I was kind of a ham (har har har, see what I did there.)

At this point, I was supposed to be at 1:00. I was at 0:57. Uhhhoh. But...here comes that hill. I figured I'd worry about those 3 minutes after I climbed.

I was shocked at how easy the 3 mile climb was. First, the idea that it's a 3 mile climb straight is false. You climb, you level off, you climb, you level off, then suddenly, you're almost to 9 and it's over. Somewhere in there, a retirement home was blasting No Sleep Till Brooklyn:

RIP MCA

Yeah, you tell me that doesn't make you want to run faster. 

After the climb, you find yourself at the top of the hill and you can see out into a vista. It's breathtaking, really. The river, the hills, all sprawling before you. 100% worth the climb. It's almost like an easter egg the race director planted out there. If you make it through this hill, you'll see something so beautiful it'll take your breath away...if the hill hasn't already done that.

My next check-in was at the half point. By this time, the half marathoners had veered off (just around 9) and I realized I was in sub 9s. I looked up to check in with the 4 hour pace group and couldn't see them anywhere. I checked my watch. I should have been at 1:59:00, instead, I was closer to 1:57:30. Not too shabby. I kept trying to look ahead of me around a curve. Where the hell was the four hour pace group, where was my beacon?

Then I turned around. They were behind me. Coach had said at the half point, if I found the 4 hour group to be annoying, crowded or the wrong pace, I could ditch them.

So I did.

My next check point came in at mile 18. These 5 miles were actually great - there's a small township where you do a loop of some description. The crowds are raucous (holy crap, the Lulu Lemon girls were nuts!), the sport was amazing, the bands between songs cheered out "NICE TUTU!" I felt like a freaking champion and I was loving my run.

18 came around and I was supposed to be at 2:43:00. Instead, I was somewhere in the late 2:30s. With the next check point being 22, this is the hardest point in the race for me, mentally. I have to give mad props to the cheer section at 18 - the parrotheads were great. This section of the race featured a long highway. I said to myself over and over again, "It's just 4 miles" (Thanks for the mantra, coach!) My borrowed gps watch was telling me I was holding an average 8:47. I started saying aloud, "I've got this. I feel good. I feel so good. This is going to be amazing." In reality, I was fighting the "You're going to hit a wall. You've only trained to 18.5. You don't know what's going to happen."

Then 22 appeared. 4.2 miles to go. This was my check point. I was supposed to be at 3:20, I was closer to 3:15. The negativity shut off. Hyper drive kicked in. I will do this. I am going to do this. I am doing this. Tuesday's Runner's World quote reminded me precisely of the clarity I felt in that moment:

It's an odd thing, when your body says no and your mind and your spirit say yes. It's frightening and empowering and clarifying and beautiful all at once. It was the past year of my life, shortened into a span of 26.2 arduous miles. It was the culmination of experiences, the knowledge that my body can be pushed past its breaking point, just like my heart. 

Around 23, I saw a guy who was struggling. Pain was all over his face and his form was in pieces. I slowed down beside him to walk. I talked to him for a bit, learned it was his first marathon and remembered just how badly I hurt at the 3 miles to go point. I cheesed out on him, but when you're at this point in a marathon, it was all I had. I asked him if I could tell him what got me through my marathons and he said please.

"When I don't think I can do it anymore and when my body hurts so badly, I have to remember that eventually, I won't be able to do this anymore. This pain is a good thing. So, even though we don't WANT to do this today, there will come a day when we can't do this anymore. And that isn't today."

It's the bastardized version of my favorite mantra: "There will come a day when I cannot do this. Today is not that day."

I patted his back and went on ahead. There is such a community and connection among runners at this point in a race. The love and hope and fear you all feel is tangible. And it sounds corny to say, but I have never felt more connected to people in my life than I do in those last miles. Delusion? Probably.

Mile 24 crested ahead of me. 2.2 miles. I had 20 minutes left and I was still running 8:48s. 

Mile 25. Hail Marys are literally pouring out of my mouth. The crowds were getting thick and marathoners who had finished were walking back to cheer on friends. "You can do it. You are almost there, it's just over the hill." 

I so appreciated that FPM had a "1 mile to go sign" at 25.2. Forgive the language, but when I hit that sign, I ran like a mother fucker. 

My last mile was an 8:51.

When the finish line came into site, I had over 5 minutes to kill. By the time I got to the 26 mile marker, tears were streaming down my face. I was either entirely deaf to the crowds or deafened by them. I think the best comparison is like hearing while being under water. 

The race director stands in the middle of the road, giving out high fives and congratulations as your cross the first timing mat. The announcer calls out every runner's name. I heard "Amelia Rommel!" and I looked at my watch: 3:57:33.

I stopped, hands on my knees and totally lost my shit.

A friend on twitter recently wrote, 

Saying "I did this great thing because I am great" is different from saying "I'm proud I was able to do this thing I found difficult." - Paul

And that is honestly how I feel. I finished in sub 4, not because I am awesome or any more special than anyone else, but because I worked through something difficult. I trained in the cold, the rain, and the snow. I went to track practice when I'd rather have been drinking beer. I laced up my shoes and met my team at the asscrack of dawn on the weekends to run hills. 

I called Chadd, my parents, my coach, crying and snotty. I went and found my teammates who had done the half and had beer and lounged in the sun.

Still standing!

Lounging and BEER

As we piled into the car and headed home, I realized that for the first time immediately after a marathon, I wanted to do another one. 

So maybe the third time is a charm. The first marathon, you don't remember, the second, you're miserable, and the third you fall in love.

Congratulations to all my fellow runners at the FPM and thanks to FPM for a great race!

Anyone want to do Richmond?

T-Minus Three Days to Flying Pig

Hi. I'm not dead. 

I've just been a terribly non responsive member of society lately. Aside from my day job, most emails have gone unsent, volunteer work has not been done, planning or writing or anything has been on hold.

Why? 

I don't know. It's like I suddenly stopped caring. Perhaps I reached that edge where having a lot on my plate was suddenly not a motivator and instead, it was a paralyzing factor. Or maybe it's because I really enjoy training and after I train, all I want to do is sit on my butt and think about training/watch tv. Whatever the reason, if my begging off on my friend/volunteer/teammate/anything duties affected you, I'm sorry. I came home on Monday night and had a small cry about how I let everyone down and all this that and the other. Chadd got ready to go to the gym, told me to make a list, lock the cats out and just go one by one down my task list. It's embarrassing how little time it took to do everything.

So, now that I've put my big girl panties on, it's time to talk about a big event that is happening in 3 days:

My third marathon.

I chose the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati because...I have no idea why (honestly). My recollection is that part of it was timing (late Spring marathon!), part of it was that Runner's World said it would be fun (if you love hills!), and partly because I had just spent too much time at the Marine Corps Marathon Expo when picking up my 10k bib. 

This has been a really weird pre-race experience. It's all jumbled in my head, so let's try to break it down:

1) One is the Loneliest Number. This is the first time I'm doing a major race (read: marathon) without support crew. The first time, my mom, my then boyfriend, and Chadd were there. My second marathon, Katie and Chadd came out...but this time...it's me and the road.

I totally underestimated how awesome it is to have crew. During the RnR National Half, I saw Chadd at 6, accidentally saw Cyndi at 10, and my coach just after 12. And every time I got tired between those, I started to think about how I would see someone soon and that powered me on. This is not to discount the friends I'm going with (including Justin, Ayla, and Amanda - some of my Ragnar rocks). But these amazing friends will be running their own races. 

I suddenly feel naked.

I've been told that this is a VERY friendly marathon. I think it may be one of the reasons I saw in the RW article. They apparently close the course down after the allotted time, but they continue to support runners after they've moved them to the sidewalks. Now THAT is friendly.

2) Holy Hills, Batman. So, in a moment of true intelligence, I didn't look at the course elevation profile prior to registering. And now that I've looked at it, I have the pre-race nervous pees. I'm amazing with rolling hills. Probably because of my spinning, I'm totally cool with glorious rolling hills. May go towards explaining why I loved the RnR National Half course. What I do not particularly love is a 3+ mile incline. This gives me flashbacks to Ragnar PA where I had 10+ miles up Mt. Pocono. There is actually a photo of me somewhere slumped on the ground, considering death after that.

Ah. There they are.

Y'all. My COACH had a temper tantrum in 2010 when she did this race. Granted, she also placed second in her age group...but, yikes. The positive to this is that my coach knows this race and has been able to give me a lot of insight into it. We've agreed that I shouldn't go out trying to bank time in the first half. Instead, I'm going to hold a 9:30 for the first half, check my watch at the 10k, the half, the 18 and the 22. The back half of the race is my strong suit - again, cue rolling hills.

3) As in...Sub-4. This may have been the wrong race to try and have such a strong PR. But I WANT that sub 4. I mean, that's the real reason I'm running another marathon (or that's my publicly facing reason, I could keep a shrink in business forever if we went into my addiction to endurance sports). 

I keep telling myself that the last marathon I did, I did not run a smart race. I ran without regard for strategy. I got a late start in the wrong corral, I fought my way back to my group and was totally spent by 20. 

4) Bigger, Better, Faster, Stronger. It's weird to have a marathon simultaneously be a non-event and cause me anguish. I've been impressively nonchalant about it in the past months. Mostly because I spend all of my anxiety time thinking about the 70.3 in August. Maybe it's also because I've distracted myself with unemployment, two job changes, and a bunch of other stuff. It's not like worrying MORE about a marathon makes it easier. It's not like this is a part of training, but in the back of my mind I feel like I'm behind on worrying. It's almost like I haven't gotten over my worry process and now I'm not going to be prepared.

In reality, I should be confident. I haven't been worried because I have this awesome thing called a coach. Coach T has taken all the pressure off of me because all I have to do is what she says. And I've done just that. I haven't been sore after any of my runs. I have comfortably held 9:30's and below on all my training runs. I need a steady 9:07 to pull this out of the bag, which means I trained at the right pace and I should be able to pull out a sub 4. I will run a smart race because I was smart when I was training.

5) The Future. Unlike the last two times I've trained, I haven't gotten sick of training. Sure, I wasn't stoked about going out for 18 miles, but it's not been the same imposition as it's been in the past. I've actually enjoyed it. I'll credit my coach with a big part of this. I've already started thinking about marathons for the fall if I don't hit sub-4 (and let's be honest...even if I DO hit sub 4...). So, unlike the last times where I've had goals (a time goal AND a goal to never do a marathon again if I made my goal), this time I just have one goal: sub 4. And if I don't make it, I just have to try again.

So, in just 3 days time, you will see a very brief post. It will hold the results and probably another marathon goal - sub-4 or not.

Let me know if you'll be in Cincinnati! I'd love to say hi!

Collective Running Concerns, Part 2: Fear of Being Judged

The next installation of Running Fears is an important one to me...mostly because I just remembered how scary this fear can actually be as I was getting comfortable swimming with you semi-aquatic people out there. So, enjoy...

2) Are other runners are judging me? Will people laugh at me? I’m so slow, are the running articles/clothes/shoes/accessories/products even made for people like me? 

No. No. Yes.

This was basically the resounding follow up fear to problem one. I have a whole lot of theories on this, but I think the best and most simple way to say it is that this fear comes out for all of us whenever we do something new. Remember when I was learning to swim laps? I seriously over-analyzed my plain black bathing suit like it held the secret to life.

We’re afraid to be judged while we’re learning. It’s my opinion that a lot of runners are Type A personalities because we like to be in charge and in control…but we’re also intensely afraid of criticism. I’m a very outgoing person, but if you put me in a room with a new task or skill to learn, I’m a shrinking violet until I can “own” being a newbie (talk about managing expectations). Running is an easy activity to pick up because it requires a pair of shoes (and depending on who you are, those are optional). And body glide. Trust me on the body glide.

“Anybody can be a runner. We were meant to move. We were meant to run.” – Bill Rodgers

It’s easy to judge yourself when you see other people out on the road. When I started running, I taught myself. I mean, clearly I knew HOW to run, but I didn’t know pacing, or breathing, or form, or any of those Runner Insider Club secrets. I watched svelte, even-breathed people sail by me while I chugged, red-faced and panting down the road. It’s easy to belittle yourself when it comes to a task without a set goal. You can win a tennis match, but you’ll always be in pursuit of a faster mile/better form/new PR. It’s the beauty and the terror of running. There is no finish line.

I don’t know a single seasoned runner who has ever looked at a new runner with disdain. I usually can’t tell (unless your nipples are bleeding through your shirt – dead giveaway because you’ll only make that mistake once). If I do see someone chugging along, looking pained and out of breath, I mentally cheer them on.

Generally speaking, people aren’t going to laugh at you. Runner’s laugh WITH each other. Case in point – I have a tendency to barf during Ragnar. Might have something to do with the temptation to each 3 sloppy joes and ice cream THEN run 8 miles. While I was throwing up for the millionth time behind a dumpster, I couldn’t help but laugh with my teammates.

Even that famous photo of the runner literally crapping themselves…sure, maybe non runners are laughing, but actual runners are going “oh shit…” [literally]. Like I said, we talk about poop a lot.

And yes. All the fun gadgets, clothes, and accessories for runners are made for all entry levels. May I strongly recommend The Stick? And Body Glide.  A lot of Body Glide.

Collective Runner Concerns, Part 1: When Can I Call Myself a Runner?

With a whole slew of my friends joining me in the dogged pursuit of runner-ness, I've had this post simmering in the back of my mind. I want to take this chance to say how proud I am of every single one of them - and not in a "proud coach" kind of way, but as a fellow runner. From experience, I know it’s not easy to get out of a warm and cozy bed, or give up a night out so you can get your miles in sans hangover and I think runners in general deserve a shout out for that kind of dedication.

I also want to bring up a couple things that I have seen and heard and struggled with myself in the hopes that this post will help someone, somewhere with these mental and physical hurdles. To do this, I dredged up the memories I had of learning to run and asked a couple runner friends to do the same. My friends have running careers spanning years to months, a variety of distances, and various lifestyles. The more I’ve worked on this post, the more I realized that it’s actually several posts…so, enjoy installation 1…

1) "I am not a runner"/"When can I call myself a runner?"/"I'm not a runner yet."

"If you are a runner, it doesn't matter how far or how fast. It doesn't matter if today is your first day or if you've been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass, no license to earn, no membership card to get. You just run." - John Bingham 

The moment you put your shoes on and go for a run (please don't call it a jog), you're a runner. It's that easy. It could be a run around the block, 5 minutes on the treadmill, a 5k, a walk/run. But as soon as you achieve locomotion faster than walking, intentionally (running to catch a bus doesn't make you a runner, but runners do have a better chance of catching the bus), you are a runner.

When runners refer to themselves as a collective group it may sound a bit standoffish, but I promise you, that isn't our intent. We're just proud of ourselves. In case you weren't yet aware, runners have a bit of an ego because we spend hours a week telling ourselves "I can do it. I am awesome. That hill is toast. My legs are so strong. I've got this." Eventually, effective mantras produce a slight self-demi-god feeling. Runners gather because we like to talk to each other about running and shoes and PRs and our latest training run and our non-running friends and significant others are sick to death of hearing about it. I should also caution you that every conversation about running that lasts longer than 5 minutes also includes discussion of poop. If you can't discuss poop, hanging out with other runners may not be the best idea.

It surprises me sometimes that people are hesitant to feel that they're allowed to call themselves runners. I guess because there aren't try outs (something I went through for softball in high school...didn't make the team, btw)...I don't feel like anyone can or can't tell you that you're a runner. And really, runners like having more runners around. More people to talk to. And runners love to give advice. If you're feeling self concious - just say you're starting out. Ask a runner about when they started out and just step back and prepare for word vomit because damn do we talk.

Running is a confidence builder. Like I said above, we continually stream positive mantras in our head, so the more you run, the more confidence you will have. Own being a runner. Join us. And if you have joined us and don't feel like one of us, take this as a universal invitation to call yourself a runner and be proud. We're glad you're here.

Next fear: Am I being judged? Am I too slow?

5 Random Thoughts

Goodness. What happens when you go on vacation and come back to a new office policy banning social media (blogger included). I need to get better about finishing my posts at night instead of leaving the editing to the morning.

Anyway - Miami was great - thanks to everyone for your support and well wishes! We had an awesome time and Chadd did really well. 

I have a post coming, probably this weekend, that I'm REALLY excited about, so maybe that will make up for the brevity of this post and the lack of posts for the past couple weeks.

Tonight is a random assortment of thoughts.

1) I really love Fitocracy. If you aren't on Fitocracy, you're missing out. It's basically a social media network for fitness people and I love it. And there's a forum that I totally love and am geeking out over. Here's the link to sign up - and we'll automatically follow each other. Leveling up is literally why I'll do another set of anything. And it's free. So, there's no reason to not do it. 

2) I really love track practice. Since it's spring break, those pesky students aren't having games on the track (must you have spring sports?) so we don't have to run around a block. Tonight we did 4x1200s. Goal was to start slightly lower than threshold and get faster with each set. My times looked like this:

1 - 6:02

2 - 6:06 (oops)

Coach said before our third set that if we couldn't get faster on this third set, this would be our last set - no fourth set. 

3 - 5:48 (f*ck yeah.)

4 - 5:49

One of the girls in my group said "there's no motivation like telling an endurance athlete 'you can't'" and isn't that the truth. I felt like I was freaking flying on those last two sets. 

3) My coach is the greatest. We had our one on one tonight post track workout to go over the approach to the Flying Pig Marathon (more on that later), how things were going currently, and to hang out. I love the fact that my coach takes a very personal approach to training. We went to Rocklands BBQ and sat outside with our food and a beer. I mean, really. How do you not love a coach like that?? If you're training for any major event, I strongly recommend a coach (specifically, my coach) because it takes the pressure off, mentally. I am not responsible for coming up with my workouts and worrying about if they're the right ones or if I miss one what will happen. I am simply responsible for doing my best and keeping my coach informed. Talk about a load off of your shoulders.

4) My weekend workouts are making me scared excited...which I am dubbing scaxited. Go with me here. Saturday I have my first real brick workout - 1-1:15 group bike ride, 20-30 minute run. I am still scared of my bike even though I'm in love with it (in scove?). Fear is a powerful motivator so I'm really stoked to get on the bike and conquer gears and clipping in/out. And then Sunday, after I figure out how to fit in my Easter celebrations at the church, I have a 15-16 mile run. I am anticipating not feeling amazing on Sunday afternoon in terms of energy, but pretty freaking awesome in terms of perceived invincibility. 

5) If you haven't read my how-to on track etiquette, please do. Or stay off the track before you or someone around you gets hurt. Also: DON'T TEXT MIDTRACK WORKOUT. Augh some people...

And that's all!

Rest Week and BIG NEWS!

I don't know if that adage about how if sharks stop swimming they die is true or not, but let's pretend that it is.

I am so a shark in my life. I've talked over and over again about my worst habit: all or nothing, but this week is definitely right there with the NOTHING part of that all or nothing lifestyle.

I should start with a positive announcement. I'm going to Miami next week - Tuesday - Friday early morning. Why, you ask? Oh, I was missing Florida and thought some beach time would be good...and....

CHADD GOT INVITED TO NINJA WARRIOR TRIALS.

My boss very graciously gave me the time off to go watch Chadd compete. I won't be able to tell you what happens at trials until NBC says we can, but I can tell you this - I am so proud of Chadd. If you want to know what true dedication is, all you have to do is look at Chadd. After Metro Dash last May, he went all out. Working out, training, finding opportunities to practice a sport that is still rare. This isn't running, biking, swimming, aerobics, crossfit...it's a specialized practice with huge risk (see: our 6+ hours in the ER one night) and skill beyond my wildest imagination. He's spent countless hours in the gym, beating up his hands, his shoulders, everything. I thought losing toenails was awful...you should see the blood on his hands and fingers after working on the cliff hanger. And it's not just dedication, Chadd has a natural gift for this. To see him go to Miami and be given the time off to go with him is just a dream.

Wish him well next week! When we can tell you what happened, we will!

Back to rest week...

It's been a trip to have a rest week. And, even more strange, is that I think of a rest week being 5 workouts. Monday, I had a second rest day. Tuesday morning, I had to give up a morning workout (pool) because of our crazy thunderstorm. I'm not 100% certain, but at least in Florida, if there is electricity in the air, indoor or out, the pool is closed. I slept in. I had to stay crazy late at work, but I got my swim in.

PAUSE.

I swam...wait for it. 1.25 miles. Y'all, that is my long swim EVER. And it felt GREAT! I left the pool at 9:30, feeling not like I'd gotten my ass kicked, but that I'd OWNED that swim. Is it possible that I'm becoming a confident swimmer? I think so.

Resume.

Yesterday, I was going to sneak in my cycle workout, but by the time I got to my track practice happy hour, I knew it wasn't happening.

Tonight, I did get my 45 minute restorative spin in and it felt good. 45 minutes on a bike these days = nada.

I did an important thing today, though. I took my beautiful bike into a bike shop in Ellicott City - CycleSport. The shop comes recommended from one of the guys in my coach's tri programs who knows the owner. Adam did me a huge favor and reached out to Paul, the owner, and asked him to check out my bike personally.

I rolled my bike in during my lunch break and Paul came to check it out. "Wow" he said "a LaPierre, I haven't seen one of these in a while." OH? I asked if this was a good or bad thing and he said that LaPierre's are a great bike...and that buying it for $500 on Craiglist, especially for the shape it's in and the upgrades the previous owner did...I made out like a bandit.

He's putting white SPD pedals on my bike (TO MATCH) and is going to see if he can track down some pink handlebar tape for me.

If your bike needs a tune up, head out to Ellicott City and ask for Paul. I trust him, my teammates trust him, and when I get my bike back, I know it's going to be in slick shape.

This week may not be the most balls to the wall workout week, but I have my best friend ever, Katie, coming into town, Blair's wedding (!!!!) and Chadd heading to Miami on Sunday.

Unlike my last bust week, I feel good about this one. I'm still making the workouts happen, but this time, with an eye on real life getting in the way...and being ok with it.

Maybe I'm more like a dolphin. Still moving a lot, but I'm learning to not feel like I'm going to die (or slip on my training) when I have a rough week.

Rock'n'Roll Half Marathon

I don't even know where to start this blog post because I have SO many great things to say about Saturday's race.

First of all, I had SO many friends who were also doing it. Even if we didn't meet up at the race, I got to enjoy the pre-race Twitter and IRL conversations with everyone. Even MORE exciting was that this was Amanda and Alicia's first half marathon and I have so enjoyed watching them train and become strong, amazing runners over the past few months.

Bryan came into town from Chicago on Wednesday, and after track practice, we got to hang out at my place and chat. Thursday, we met up with Eliot and Alicia to hit the expo, pick up our bibs, and shop a little.

I picked up some more Sweaty Bands. If you need headbands for active use...this is your best bet. I know there are a lot of cheaper imitators, but don't be fooled. Pay the difference and I promise you won't regret it.

They have skull patterns. Clearly, I'm their target demographic.

Then we got dinner in Eastern Market. I had a bit of a snit regarding food and man, can I tell you that you learn who your real friends are when they tolerate you until you stuff your face with chips and salsa. Chadd met up with us for margaritas and dinner then we parted ways and I sat on the bike trainer for an hour. See also: dedication.

Saturday morning, we got up in enough time to use the metro...because my car was locked in the garage (awesome.) Thankfully, the metro was easy to navigate and despite an almost 20 minute wait, we wound up at RFK around 6:15 where we met up with Amanda. After the usual "I have to pee, wait, where did I put my timing chip, can you hold this gu pack?", we ran over to see Coach T so I could get a pep talk, a hug and a high five.

Then we jumped into the corral, and slowly moved forward as the wave starts were released.

Me and Bryan

Me and Amanda

This is the first of many times I'll say how well organized the Rock'n'Roll crew was. The corrals were clearly marked, the releases were adequately spaced out, and aside from slightly annoying announcers, it was a nice way to start the race.

I saw these compression socks while we were waiting...I need these:

The race was a beautiful course around DC - we went out to the Mall, up 18th Street, then on Connecticut and into Adams Morgan, then Columbia Heights, then down by Howard University, through NE into the Atlas District, then back to the stadium. Rolling hills through the course, which is my strong suit. I learned at Ragnar PA that I am an ace with rolling hills. Must be from all the spinning (shameless plug to come to my class). I also enjoy the feeling of cresting the hill and rolling down...it's like mini accomplishments through a race and for me, a good mental check point.

Source

Rolling hills. Lots of them! Source

The first few miles were kind of rough. I tried to stay with Bryan and warm up and get focused, but my mind was all over the place. My calves were in pain and I just wasn't feeling it. But around mile 3, I hit my stride, warmed up/woke up and got moving. Every mile from there out got easier (and faster!)

By the time I got to Chadd at Mile 6, I was feeling amazing. After a quick hug, I powered up the hill and enjoyed the bands, the crowds, the shot of green beer from the friendly spectators in Columbia Heights.

I saw Cyndi on H Street and waved hello frantically. I started to get distracted mentally around mile 9. I was having a good race, but for a split second, got off track, got lost in my thoughts and lost my way. Suddenly, the end felt far away, even though my normal weekend runs are around 13 miles. Then I remembered that Coach T was going to be just past the 12th mile marker. With renewed energy, I charged toward 12. I felt stronger and stronger and stronger and FASTER. I tried to slow myself down because I was afraid I was going to burn out, but I couldn't stop. I waved at Coach, then focused on a strong and controlled finish.

The Rock'n'Roll organizers did a great job with the bands and with the aid stations. Every aid stop was stationed just after the odd miles. I never wanted anything, never felt bored, and thought they did a great job with the course - especially helping people navigate the half/full split. The finish line was great and though it took a while to get out of the shoots at the end, it's only because they had a lot to offer.

I picked up water, gatorade, a banana, chocolate milk (!!), a bagel, a fruit cup, snicker's marathon bars, and had a finisher's photo taken twice. I didn't pick up the yogurt or the apples, but mostly because I was out of hands.

After I grabbed my foil blanket, I strolled out to the main stage and lay in the grass, stretching and waiting for Amanda. The music was blasting, the sun was out, and I got to enjoy my post-race feast. There is no better way to end a race than that, friends. Switchfoot played and though they're kinda meh on the radio/youtube, in person, they were a great post-race show.

Once I collected Amanda and Bryan, we headed to the beer tent.

Cheers!

In case you didn't know, I have a THING for Michelob Ultra. Marketing works well on me. I saw that series of "active people" commercials where all the hard working office folks hit the bar after a long run through the city, or a weekend biking in the mountains and went "oh, that's me! I too need Michelob Ultra."

Then, Michelob did something brilliant: they sponsored almost all of the major race beer tents in the US. You finish a race and boom, you get a Michelob. Pavlov's theory works very well with me.

Mmm beer. And a nifty banana belt.

Another cool thing that the Rock'n'Roll folks did, aside from awesome medals:

Was that they invited a medal engraver to the post-race area:

Even though it cost $20 - if you pre-made the medals for that to be engraved, I couldn't say no.

After we drained our beers, Amanda was awesome and drove us home. We all grabbed showers, then went to BGR and INHALED our food. I didn't even get the chance to take a picture of my burger. That good.

Of course, since it was St. Patrick's day, we met up later that night with Alicia and Eliot at a sports bar and were lucky enough to snag a table. Reed and some of his friends stopped by. A good time was had by ....I had such a great night, aside from how much I loved my outfit:

Every time I walked back to my table from the bar or the bathroom, I saw my boyfriend and my friends around the table. I had that cheesy realization that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I commented at some point that it was just like being in a group of friends like How I Met Your Mother...and it was. Laughing, drinking, talking, and really enjoying each other's company. After a couple hours, we wandered down to Flippin Pizza then passed out.

I lay in bed, about to fall asleep and reviewed the day. 

My times:

Finish: 1:58:14

The paces beside them show that interval's pace (i.e. 5k = start to 5k pace, 10k = 5k to 10k pace)

5k: 30:13 (9:43)

10k: 58:11 (9:01)

10 mile: 1:31:43 (8:49)

Finish: 1:58:14 (8:52)

Aside from a 3 second slip in my last 5k, those are some gorgeous negative splits. I was the 4086th finisher of over 1600, putting me in the top 25% range. I ran under Eliot's name, so I haven't bothered to calculate my division stats, but those concern me less.

Those numbers are amazing for me for a couple reasons - I haven't been running this fast in training and I ran without a headset for the first time since my first marathon. 

I learned a couple things: 

- Running in an event with a lot of other friends is fun

- I have a hard time running with other people because I lose focus

- I will definitely run more Rock'n'Roll events

- Trust your training

- I love rolling hills

- I don't need music to love the run

- I have awesome friends

And that is an awesome Saturday.

Songs that Make You Say F*ck Yeah!

In light of the race coming up this weekend, I've seen a lot of requests on Twitter for good running music. I actually made a great playlist for just such an occasion while I was sitting on my spin bike a few weeks ago. While I was cycling (ha) through my playlists, looking for music that would wake me up, help me focus, and make 45 minutes pass...the following showed up and thus was born a new playlist, "Songs that Make You Say F*ck Yeah!"

Gloriana - How Far Do You Wanna Go
Jimmy Eat World - Bleed America
Ou Est Le Swimming Pool - Dance the Way I Feel
Rise Against - Architects
Pretty Lights - Forever Lost
Darude - Feel the Beat
Lucky Boys Confusion - Hey Driver
Cartel - This is Who We Are
Chromeo - Don't Turn the Lights On
Lucky Boys Confusion - Champions
Skrillex - Cinema
Kanye ft. Bon Iver - Lost in the World
Linkin Park - Bleed it Out
T-Pain, etc. - All I Do Is Win
DJ Khalid - We Takin Over
Blink 182 - Easy Target

I don't run with music anymore for long runs, which I miss, but it's for the best since I won't be allowed to use a headset during the 70.3. That hasn't stopped me from using music to drown out the other sounds at the gym or when I'm sitting on the bike.

What songs did I miss? What are your "songs that make you say f*ck yeah!"?

If you're running tomorrow, have a great race! You can find me in the beer garden at the end.