A few steps with me...

a quick note

2010-03-08T19:49:00.001-06:00

Just a quick post to say that I had a GREAT 20 miler yesterday! That's the furthest I've travelled on foot since last October's ultra and I had an absolute ball doing it. The weather was great, with even a few minutes of sunny drizzle, I met several new runners, reconnected with some old ones, and a very artfully prepared cappuccino at coffee afterward. The barista drew pictures in my foam...love that! Follow that up with lunch with my best friend and a lazy evening of Oscar watching, and I'd say it was a perfect way to cap off the week.

what perserverance looks like

2010-03-01T20:17:00.004-06:00

10. You get to talk to a lot of nice people because you aren't out of breath.
9. There ain't no shame in looking at a bunch of really good runner's backs~anonymous.
8. It's a chance at trying to force evolution from the ground up.
7. It's an awesome feeling to know that you made someone's day by letting them pass you.
6. You get to spend the time thinking of how you are going to cash in on your calories you just burned.
5. Technically, there are only two places that count in a race; 1st and last-people stick around to see who gets both.
4. Somewhere along the way, you feel the thinnest you have felt in months~almost on the brink of sexy.
3. It's better than watching from the start-you get to see who gets what place in real time.
2. Banana split..banana split..banana split
1. The personal crowd of 10 or less who stick around to cheer your finish...and retrieve your timing chip.

That is a facebook post from Saturday's final race finisher. At 9:00, over 400 runners took off for the annual Beacon on the Bay. It was beautiful out. Chilly, but sunny and little wind by Oklahoma standards. For the first time in years, I wasn't wearing a bib, but as a volunteer committee member I'd intended to be out on the course for an easy 10ish miles checking water stations, encouraging runners, and generally helping where there was need. My plan was to be back at the finish about halfway into the race so I could head home to take care of a few things that have been hanging out on my to-do list. As a side note, it's funny that I even start my weekends with plans because my day never goes accordingly. About five miles into the run, there was a minor hiccup that luckily turned out okay. With that slight set-back in schedule, it wasn't long before I caught up with the course sweeper who just happens to be one of my favorite runners. I welcomed the walk break and planned (there's that word again) to hang with him for a mile or two before continuing down my path. The day was too nice, the conversation too good, and the high from the racers too contagious, and before I knew it, I was at the 25K turnaround agreeing to continue sweeping the course.

Just after 1:00 we skip the keyhole to wait at the end for the final few moments before our last runner crossed the finish line. As she made her way down the final stretch smiling and breathless, the last of the volunteers stood to cheer. Over the years I've seen many race winners, PRs set, and speed goals exceeded, but never have I seen perserverance and accomplishment exemplified quite like this.

deviating from the plan

2010-02-21T19:43:00.004-06:00

So last weekend a small group of us headed south for the Austin Marathon. While the OKC Marathon will always be the most special to me for myriad reasons, I love, love, love out of town races! There is little more exciting than the week-long anticipation, waking up ridiculously early the morning we finally head out (but not so early that Starbucks won’t open within a half hour of driving), and finding that perfect driving music to take you straight to the expo. I have this traveling thing down! Or so I thought…

My plan was the same one that has worked unfailingly many times before. I'd work as late as I needed to on Friday so I could be ahead going into the next week. I'd come home and put my favorite bedding sheets in the wash, put less favorite bedding on the bed, and pack using the packing check list I'd printed out earlier. Henry then gets a little extra play time before unnecessarily setting the alarm clock and climbing into bed to lie awake for the next six hours. Sleeplessness aside, it sounds pretty good, right? It was right up until I realized that I forgot to print out my list at work and somehow thought my memory could be trusted.

He hadn't even started the ignition when I announced that I felt like I was forgetting something. Shoes? Got 'em. Garmin? Got it. Gum, carmex? Of course. Then you're set! I resigned myself to the idea that I had the essentials and settled into the drive, Starbucks in hand. Gloves! I forgot gloves! At this point, we were already in Texas and I was okay with that. Gloves are pretty easy to find. I'd just pick up a pair at the expo. Or two pair, since my hands threaten frost bite at any temp below 70.

So seven hours and two Starbucks later, we meet part of our group at the expo and finalize the dinner plans, pick up our packets, I get experimented on with this rolly thing to the amusement of my traveling companion, and we head out to explore the streets of Austin for a couple of hours. We made it as far as Sixth Street before stumbling upon a little dive called the Dizzy Rooster (which for some reason I kept calling the Fuzzy Chicken, I mean Rooster, Damn it Dizzy Rooster!), with a really great guitarist covering old country songs by request. We ended up staying there until dinner. We were going to run these streets tomorrow, so why ruin the surprise, right? And who could possibly leave this bottle-cap decorated, honky-tonk place with the musician large in both physical and audible presence and his well-deserved tip bucket?!

Fast forward through dinner and we head over to meet one of my most fantastic cousins at this fundraiser she helped organized to pick up her house key. By the time we finally make it back to hers, the clock is inching toward 10pm and we're putting on PJs and getting ready for the race the next morning. And this is where I discover that "something" I was forgetting. "But it was gloves, and you bought two pair at the expo," you're saying to yourself right now.... Nope. I am sitting in the back bedroom of my cousin's house in my PJs at 10:00 the night before the race with a pair of running shoes, a tech shirt, a sports bra, six pair of gloves (as it turns out I somehow packed four pair), and no shorts. "Well, at least my hands will be warm even if my ass freezes off!" I joke to myself. Luckily, I always have yoga tights on hand and wasn't forced to trek through downtown Austin in my knickers.

The race itself was spectacularly hilly, had undying crowd support, and was very Austin-like in its steady supply of live music on the course. I started slowly, which is pretty typical, and concentrated really hard on listening to the two voices in my head. No, I don't need a really strong dose of medication...these are just words that have been said repeatedly to me over the past few months. "Don't hurt yourself. I want to run a marathon with you," says Voice One. It is immediately followed by Voice Two telling me to "Quit charging the hills!" Let me tell you, they don't speak rhythmically, so it's hard to get a steady stride going to these two! In any case, my muscles loosened, I was uncharacteristically careful, and 13.1 sweaty miles later, I crossed the finish line feeling great and only 8 minutes off my PR.

quietly slip-sliding into a run

2010-01-30T02:17:00.000-06:00

Have you ever been angry about being a runner? Or if you're not a runner, about anything that is essentially who you are, how you're known, what you build on...you get the idea. That's exactly how I felt this morning when everyone else was out there slipping and sliding their way through the ten mile training run, and my yaktrax remained strapped to my polka-dot rain boots! Nope...no under armour tech clothes and man gloves for me this morning. Just my stupid shorts and shoes that needed no special gripping devices to walk about the perfectly un-slick gym floor. I'd been preparing for this, though. All week I'd talked to myself abut how a couple weeks to heal a minor injury is far less maddening than months of recovery. Good gravy, I know this! I'd just done this! I'd decided early on to go to spin and then meet the group for coffee after, but that was before the ice storm hit... My gym opened late, spin was cancelled, I couldn't imagine another hour on the elliptical, and I was absolutely righteous because I wasn't running outside! I love those kinds of runs - the ones where people look at you like you're absolutely nuts for being out there. Yes, they're right but that's beside the point. Anyway, I tried unsuccessfully to wipe the pout off my face as I walked into the gym and headed for the cardio equipment. I meant to walk to the elliptical. Truly, I did. For some reason, though, my eyes wouldn't even acknowledge its existence. I was subconsciously giving it the silent treatment, which was perfectly in keeping with my childish mood this morning. I barely glanced at the rowing machines, squeezed right by the bicycles leaving the arc trainers unnoticed as well, and stepped onto a treadmill for the first time in over a year. "Just a mile," I told myself. "I need to guage my left leg...see how it really feels." Now, to those of you in the midst of your exasperated sigh, put it on hold for just a second, because I did start at an easy 9:34 pace. The downfall came when I turned my iPod on, though, and "Holding Out for a Hero" comes blaring through the headphones. I picked it up to an 8:31 and didn't even pretend that I'd stop the hamster game after a mile. So go ahead and finish that exhale. I deserve it...but leave my cheesy 80s running music alone. I was feeling free, despite my confinement to that one square foot in the world. I had uninterrupted rhythm, both in thought and in stride. My head was totally in my run. Nobody even noticed me, much less knew I hurt, so I didn't have to lie about how my leg was feeling. All focus was on putting one foot in front of the other and feeling the exhilaration of a racing heart. After 5.5 miles (of which a good 4 was to the beat of the aforementioned song), I quietly stepped off the treadmill, secretly pleased with my act of rebellion, and headed over to the weights.

it's never good to be called to the office

2010-01-28T21:52:00.000-06:00

"Good questions! For now, lay off running and ice the area several times a day. I will be back in OKC late Tues and I can look Weds AM. Are you available ant time Weds? If so, when? Don't do anything about shoes until I look at it and your shoes again.

How does it feel when you waken in the AM? If it is tight and sore, you need a night splint. The splints are known as 'plantar fascia' night splints. Several runners have them."

The wording above is copied and pasted from an email response from the running doc. Yes, the response was to me. It seems I'm getting called back to his office, and we all know what that meant last time! In the interest of catching you up, since I've resumed training with the group my achilles has been talking to me. Sometimes it screams, but generally speaks in its inside voice. My hamstring has, too, but I know exactly where all that yelling is coming from. I did a 10 mile hill run too fast. Oh, and my last time on the hills prior to that was at our Mt. Scott trip last July, so yes, I deserve a bit of back-talk. Anyway, this Saturday was a 12 mile flat training run. Piece of cake! I'd taken a running break since the Tuesday prior and hadn't really felt anything, so why not run it. Right? Right??? Of course, I caught one of my favorite runners early on who happens to be much faster than I'm ready for, so I had to stay with him. It's stupid, but perfectly in keeping with my running personality. I only lasted a couple of miles, though, until we caught up with another friend. Thankfully she was running slowly that morning due to calf issues, so I had good company for the remaining miles. When we reached the end, I kept going...straight to the bathroom, the coffee pot, and to the doc, where I basically hand him my left leg and ask how to fix it. First, he tells me to quit charging the hills (I love hills) and quit trying to run faster than I'm ready for. Then he prods and squeezes and contorts me about in a gumby-like fashion, and tells me that it's not bad, relatively speaking. I love this! He then tells me that I need to switch to stiffer shoes. I hate this! He points out that all the technology of my shoes is in the heel and given that I only seem to use about a square inch of the outside forefront, I'm not getting any of the benefit. So by Sunday evening (hey, it's been 24 hours!) I'm still concerned with the lack of left leg cooperation and the idea of switching shoes, so I spit out a quick email. Oh, did I mention that Austin was three weeks away, and it's not known for being a flat course! I'm pretty sure doctors like to be told how to do their job, so in my email, I let him know that my options are to a) lay off until the next weekend's training run, b) lay off until Austin in 3 weeks, or c) a complete left leg transplant. It's his choice, really. Upon opening his reply, I was pretty pleased with what he had to say. That lasted about two sentences in when he starts sputtering something about me coming to his office. Last time I got called in there, which by the way was just last July, I didn't run for 14 weeks. 14 weeks! Even then, my runs hurt. It took an exhausting amount of willpower to lay low in the running world until spring training officially started and I am NOT about to do that again. So at the moment, my intention is to lay off running for the week, go through enough ice to melt and fill the Pacific ocean, and stretch like I'm in training to be a yoga master. I'm following most of his advice, but the trip to the office hasn't quite been solidified into my plans yet. Stay tuned...

a brand new year

2010-01-02T17:53:00.000-06:00

A new year, a new training season, new runners amongst us, and a new round of ITB screams. It's FANTASTIC!! I woke up this morning feeling like a kid at Christmas. Today is the first day of official 2010 spring marathon training and I'm so excited that I almost don't need coffee to get me going! I haven't gone completely mad, though, so I fill up the moka pot anyway. Normally, I'd be scrambling about searching for a sock while burning my hands on the bread pan that I just ripped out of the oven and eating my oatmeal out of the pot on the way to the start line. This morning, however, I put on both socks at the same time, ate my oatmeal in front of the news (still out of the pot, though), and left with unblistered hands because the post-race bread was made the day before! Henry even got extra time outside, running about the snow before reclaiming the last of the melting snowman that each of his neighboring pup friends had briefly taken ownership of.

It was icy and cold, but that didn't stop the 100+ runners from piling into the overflowing parking lot at Hefner. What a cool sight it is, too. There is nothing like watching everyone scurry out of their cars, bundled to the point of unrecognizability, and hearing all the garmin beeps as we take our first steps onto the street. For six miles (well, seven if you're in my group that missed the turnaround because we were yammering), I listened to family holiday horror stories, nervous chatter about marathon training, and grandiose New Year's resolutions, and it was perfect....absolutely the way a training run should be.

Those seven miles were supposed to be followed by a few more on the Arcadia trails - a fun run put on by a friend of mine. It's worth mentioning that the longest course he has measured out for us is 50K. Sounds fun, eh? You can, of course, choose your own distance. I chose four. My leg, however, chose .75. Guess who won. Luckily, I was in the company of someone who HATES trails with every running fiber of his being and was more than happy to escort me back to the trail head. No, really. If he said that he truly thought that the trails intentionally moved about to position roots in the perfectly to bring him down attempting to actually knock his legs off his body, thereby causing him to never run again, I'd venture to say that he actually believed it. Nevermind this amusing, albeit irrational, fear of nature running, I was grateful for the companionship. So off we went with day one of spring training officially down - a few miles shorter than planned, but happily headed home to wrap up in something warm.

what it's about

2009-12-26T01:31:00.000-06:00

First, let me start by saying, yes, I realize that I haven't published anything since the first part of 2009 so to those of you who keep watching...surprise! I actually have written many posts over the past nine months, but haven't published them for one reason or another. Either I couldn't quite get the wording, the words were too personal for my comfort level, or other times I just flat didn't bother. In any case, I do have plans to put the majority of them on the blog...not all, but most. Luckily, I kept note of the date and time of the original writing, so there will be some continuity to this ongoing story. That brings me to the reason for finally making my thoughts public after all this time....

I should tell you that this post has absolutely nothing to do with running, but it warrants a read probably more than anything I have, or will, put out there. I'm in Texas at the moment, visiting family for Christmas. It's loud, tiring, chaotic, and wonderful! Every year I head south with excitement because it's been a whole year since I've seen everyone, and trepidation because it's only been a year since I've had to combat all the nosy questions from everyone. That being said, I'm very lucky to be surrounded by the unthinkable madness and overly inquisitive family. As you've probably seen plastered all over the news (or been stuck in), Oklahoma got pounded by a blizzard on Christmas Eve - the day after I left. So many people I know had to rearrange their Christmas plans, but luckily most had family nearby and were not faced with spending it alone. I know a lady, though, who is 80 years old and aside from her 15 year old dog, has no family any closer than Tulsa. I know another lady, who also doesn't have family here, but being Jewish, she doesn't celebrate Christmas. Given the part of the country that we are in, her heritage puts her well into the minority category and she is forced to constantly remind people that Hannukah is her winter holiday. Unfortunately, the difference often precipitates incorrect assumptions or crude jokes...not always intentional, but wearing nonetheless. Her response is to try to educate those individuals on Judaism, and teach them that diversity is a positive thing in this world. Sometimes it works. More often than not it doesn't. In any case, she walks a frustrating path on a near daily basis.

So back to the blizzard.... While this storm separated a lot of people who had planned to observe this holiday together, it brought two very different women to one dinner table on a snowy Christmas Day. You see, my straight-out-of-New York, Jewish friend who continually battles society forcing Christianity on her set that aside for an evening to keep her 80 year old, native Oklahoman, very Christian neighbor from being alone on this day. She took care to find out what constitutes a traditional Christmas dinner and even took in consideration the always anticipated leftovers. She then cooked said dinner, invited her over, and spent the evening celebrating a holiday she doesn't believe in just so her neighbor didn't have to celebrate it alone. That, my friends, is what this season should be about. The giving of yourself, embracing the idea that we can have varying beliefs, welcoming differences...

Now before I upset anyone, I know December 25 is a Christian holiday, but this wasn't a story about Christmas vs. Hannukah, or Christian vs. Judaism. It is merely a story about one woman doing something amazing for another and I hope that's what you take from it.

seeing it for the first time

2009-12-25T01:11:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas Eve everyone and let the madness begin! I arrived at my parent's house late last night after a long drive through both sides of Dallas traffic (completely forgot that they like to get a two hour head start on 5:00 traffic), a stop at Whole Foods (where I spent an hour and a half talking to the super cool beer and wine saleslady), and several rounds of turtle-speed inducing sideways rain. As soon as I walk in I'm bombarded by "Aunt A!" screams from little ones who should be sleeping, and gut-wrenching barking from another room. My initial reaction is an enthusiastic "Hi and What the hell is that?!?!" I forgot they got a new pet. They call it a dog, but I'm not convinced. Anyway, it's a clear indicator of the chaos that's about to ensue over the next couple of days, so in preparation I quickly lug Henry (my dog that is unmistakably a dog)in, immediately pull him from the grasp of the unidentified screaming creature, and crawl into bed.

Several hours later, I'm up and on the search for the coffee pot. My parents are lovely and store a coffee pot just for me to use at Christmas because nobody else drinks the wonderdrink. How anyone survives a normal day, let alone the holidays, without coffee is beyond me! Anyway, I quickly find the pot and am excited to discover that the coffee filters are still in the cabinet since I forgot to buy any on the way down. So after chiseling out last year's used filter (yes, I forgot to take it out when I put it away and literally was chiseling it out with an ice pic), I start the coffee and oatmeal and shout out that I'm going for a run. I throw on some shoes (no socks because I forgot them), running shorts, a sleep shirt (yes, I forgot my tank, too), and head out. I did, however, remember to load my iPod with Christmas tunes and a few NPR podcasts.

Headphones on for the first time in eons, I latch the screen door, brush past the old, wooden swing, and hop off the porch. I'm moving at a slightly quicker pace than anticipated. It's a chilly morning, completely overcast and with slight breeze...almost too chilly for the little bit of clothing I've scrounged together. God, it feels good to have the legs moving! As my mind starts to wander, I realize that in over two decades of either living in or visiting that house, I've never gone for a run there. Sure, as kids we'd take off down the street, but it was always just to get to our destination, and we were so focused on what we'd get into once we made it that the world between those two points went unnoticed. So this morning, as I'm moving forward on my own to no particular ending point, I actually see how much the trees have grown. You used to be able to see paths through the bushes, but now it's a virtual forest. I pass by the ditch where we found my neighbor's cat who didn't survive the snake he apparently got too close to. I remember her older sister and I trying to keep her from seeing it as we bagged it up and brought it home to bury. Where the dirt road from my parent's house meets the blacktop is the little church they go to. I was dragged to that place three times a week until I graduated high school! Don't get me wrong...great people, but it just wasn't for me. Just about a half mile down the road is my step-grandparent's home. Papa died a few years back, but Mrs. Swearingen is still there running the show. She's good like that....always has something very grandmothery going and just likes to take care of things. Incidentally, everyone calls them 'Papa and Mrs. Swearingen,' related or not. Papa used to take us on wheelbarrow rides through that yard. He taught us to drive in the pasture next to the house. There were many weekends that he'd have us out there bailing hay all morning and after stacking the hay in the barn, we'd pile in the back of his truck and cut into a fantastically juicy, home-grown watermelon, and it would be gone in a matter of minutes! A little further up the road is an old shack that we'd venture into if we wanted a good scare. It was never very sturdy to begin with, but it really looks run down now. Years ago when you snuck in, you were faced with a wall decorated with satanic praises. As you make your way through it, you'd see depictions of devil worshipping rituals, heavy metal band names, and random violent-looking splatters of red paint. I don't care to be spooked today, so I speed up just a little bit. About three or four minutes later, I pass the house of a former classmate. I don't recall much about him...just that he was really quiet and for the first few years I was at that school, he was in the special ed class. I kind of think that he wouldn't have needed to be there if he had the proper help at home. I do remember, very vividly I might add, his crazy dogs! They would bark and growl at their first sight of you. Needless to say, we only ventured that far on foot once. Truthfully, had I remembered that I would've turned around at the satanic shack. Luckily those dogs are no longer there waiting to pounce. I'm enjoying this unexpected nostalgia and would like to keep going, but I know that there is a little red-headed fireball waiting for me back at the house, and I'm anxious to see what sort of mischief she plans to drag me into. So I start back, all the while looking for anything I may have missed along the way.

invasion of the santa clauses and all things christmas

2009-12-23T04:41:00.000-06:00

Just a short post to say that the inaugural Santa Pub Crawl was an absolute blast tonight! We had a wonderful mix of costumed people from the Landrunners, Trailrunners, and Tri-OKC jingling through Bricktown and spreading more Christmas spirit than Oklahoma City has probably ever seen!

On a separate note, a year ago today (well, technically yesterday since it's now 2:30 a.m.), I had one of the best unplanned runs downtown ever and accidentally stole a napkin from my favorite pub. To my readers: long story as to how I remember this; and To my favorite pub: my most sincere apologies, but I've probably more than made up for the cost of that napkin over the past year.

now i believe it

2009-12-14T23:44:00.000-06:00

So this weekend was the Dallas White Rock Marathon, and what a great weekend it was! There weren't as many Landrunners participating as there were in 2008 (only three that I know of), but we still had a fun time. Upon our arrival into Dallas, we headed straight for the expo where we promptly picked up the race packets, tested out our acting skills, chastised our friend for skipping out on announcing this year, and tried unsuccessfully to stalk Bill Rodgers....typical expo activities, really. That evening was much more low key than last year's White Rock Eve. There were NO Brazilian soccer players in the immediate area and the wine consumed was limited to the tiny samples from the wine guy at Whole Foods. I even tried to go to bed early, but insomnia kept me up watching reruns of Law & Order SVU. At least it was the good L&O series, though. Anyway, I finally caught a couple of hours of sleep before bounding out of bed, wide-ass awake at 3:45 a.m. - two and a half hours before the alarm was set to go off! With very little sleep and a whole lot of time to kill, I made my way down to the lobby in search of some coffee. Of course they operate on reasonable hours and the breakfast room didn't open until 6:00. The kind front-desk lady did offer me one of those awesome Doubletree Hotel cookies, an apology for being unable to caffeinate me, and directions to the nearest place with fresh coffee. Quick sidebar here... If you've never had one of the famous Doubletree Hotel cookies, you are missing out! It's so good that I saved the package with the list of ingredients so I could try to replicate it, and this is coming from someone who would rather have an extra hunk of bread or glass of wine for dessert! Okay, so it's 4:00 and I'm heading out for coffee and to fill my car up. By the time I make it back to the hotel, other runners are starting to stir, so I chat a bit with a man and his kid while they wait for his wife to come down. Finally it's time to throw on the shorts and head to the start line with zippy Christmas music blaring all the way over.

It's chilly to me, which means it's perfect for most everyone else. Very little wind and no drizzle already makes for much better running conditions than last year. As the gun goes off, I start repeating my Tulsa plan to myself - run the first six miles slowly, walk the next, and repeat. I'm still, yes STILL, trying to be smart. I need good running karma for my body since I have a lot to make up for from throwing it into that ultra a few weeks ago. I feel too good, though. My legs have missed the hills, there is no pain, and they don't want the slow, boring miles that Dr. Tom has prescribed. I compromise and settle into what feels like about a 9:00 pace next to this intriguing set of runners who invited me into their conversation. Nearly to the six mile mark, the guy says to his friend "We're doing great...holding between 8:23 and 8:33 pace." My comment was something along the lines of "Holy fuck, Dr. Tom would have my head!" and I back off. Okay, so intelligence comes and goes with me...

Once again, I'm reasoning with myself. Since I slowed down as soon as I heard the pace, I can go ahead and run the next two and then take a walk break. It didn't hurt. I ran to the eight mile mark. I walked mile eight. Okay, so it wasn't the original plan, but it was definitely preplanned. I'd conjured it up TWO WHOLE MILES ago! At the tenth mile, I entered back into a run, but quickly forced another walk break even though running felt better. I wanted to be able to fly down the Katy trail to the finish line without my conscience screaming at me. Wasting no time once I hit the end of the walking point, I sped up and started picking my people to catch. If you're a runner, you know what I mean. It's one of the oldest mind games out there, but somehow it works every time. I chase and catch my targets all the way to the end. I feel fast and nauseous and wonderful, and I'm completely clueless about my time until I round the corner onto the straightaway that takes me to the finish line. That's where my blurry eyes notice the clock says 2:10:33. It's over ten minutes slower than last year, given the injury plaguing me since the middle of the summer, I'll happily take it. Not only that, but for the first time I actually believe that I can make it to Boston one day.

kitchen mishaps

2009-03-28T19:29:00.000-05:00

It turns out that our group run originally scheduled for this morning was postponed until tomorrow due to a snowstorm we were supposed to be pummeled with. Of course Oklahoma weather being Oklahoma weather-like, nothing ever happened. Believe me, I waited up as there were great plans in the works to commence at the fall of the first flake! So with an extra day on my hands and a freezer full of half-used packages of fruits and nuts and the like, I decided to do a little experimenting in the kitchen. First thing's first - the success of the day was a yeast bread that allowed me to use up the rest of a cooked millet, aramanth, and quinoa mixture (yes, this sounds like bird food, but no, it's meant for human consumption) and the remainder of some agave nectar hanging out in the pantry. I'm defining success by taste, by the way, and not appearance since it came out of the oven with a sunken middle. Anyway, while the bird food bread was rising (only to fall as it baked??), I moved on to this sourdough cherry and pineapple coffee cake concoction that I thought might be a fun change to bring for the group tomorrow. Now before anyone gets too excited, this turned out quite disastrous and will not be making an appearance. It seems you can't just stir frozen cherries and a can of crushed pineapple into batter without the entire dish turning a violent orange as it bakes. Remember Bridget Jones and the blue soup? That's what it was like, only scarier...no food should be that color! This was the sort of thing that could only be brought to a child's Halloween party. Luckily I've got a back-up loaf in the freezer that is not deflated or of demonic color.

Many of you know I'm an NPR junkie and listen to NPR podcasts when I'm running. Well, while frittering about the kitchen I was listening to this new non-NPR podcast (new to me, at least) called The Extra Mile. It's this fantastic piece that a guy called Kevin has put together. Runners around the world call in or email audio clips with stories about their training, racing, recovery...whatever, and they are compiled into various episodes for our listening enjoyment. It features snippets by everyone from Bart Yasso to a random lady who goes by Petra out of London....a sort of 'for runners by runners' collection. You can subscribe for free through iTunes and I just downloaded four more episodes to carry me over those hills tomorrow. I'm so excited! Sorry NPR. I promise you'll stay in the rotation! Anyway, since I don't know how to put a link in this text, I'll add the site to the list of blogs I follow in case any of you want to be a giant podcast-loving nerd, too.

this post's for you

2009-03-21T19:23:00.000-05:00

Yes, Willie, this one is for you. It seems I've been dragging at the end of your blog roll for quite some time now, and it's time I move up, even if only for a brief moment. I thought it was bad when you had to say something to me for the third or fourth (or twelfth!) time, but then my sister who NEVER keeps up with this sort of thing mentioned it. Apparently that still wasn't enough and it took someone who has joined our running group and whose name I don't even know to get me into gear! I'd like to say that I have a good reason.....you know, like nothing blog-worthy to post on, no time, spontaneous implosion of my computer and all those I have access to, but all that would be untrue and I'm a pretty terrible liar. My only excuse is that I've been sidetracked with meeting new people, catching up to the rest of society on pop culture, and vampire books. Those are valid reasons, right??

For those of you who are scratching your head because the title of this post sounds vaguely familiar, you caught me! I nabbed it from that timeless Anheuser Busch slogan, 'This Bud's For You.' I found a random can of Budweiser in my collection and just experimented with an Italian Herbed Beer Bread to bring to the training run tomorrow. I've got to say, my kitchen smells fantastic! Who knew that something good could come from a can of Budweiser?! Speaking of which, the timer is yelling at me so I'll hit 'post' now. I mentioned earlier that I do have some blog-worthy topics, so the next post will actually be running-relevant. Stay tuned....

a week of mondays

2009-01-09T16:21:00.000-06:00

Seriously! It's Friday people! The day of anticipation for the weekend, wearing jeans to the office, and happy hour. Yet it still feels like Monday and it has every day this week. Monday felt that way just because it was Monday, and funnily enough, they tend to do that. Tuesday, I started my day by exploding oatmeal all over my stove. It seems that in my sleepy stupor, I turned the burner to high instead of low, and well, we all know what happens when water gets really, really hot. Along the same lines of food mishaps, I made a giant pot of delicious tuscan white bean, kale, and smoked bacon soup the night before for weekday lunches only to discover through a mouthful of grit that I didn't wash the kale. I hate waste, so I've been eating fantastically flavored, yet, very gritty soup all week. Yesterday Henry (my super-cool, but extremely curious dog) found a yummy little treat in the grass that he deposited right in the middle of my living room a short time later. He's not delicate when he gets sick, either....it's like he's trying to turn himself inside out or something! And finally, this morning I wake up and my oven timer is going off! It's this constant "eeehhhhhhh" sound, much like "the most annoying sound in the world" from that movie Dumb and Dumber! I first heard it at 5:00 a.m. and when I left for the office at 7:30, it was still drowning out the voices in my head. Hopefully they were able to fix it before I get home otherwise my sanity my permanently be in jeopardy. I won't bore you with the office-related "Monday incidents," as they are meaningless to someone who doesn't work here.

Tomorrow is our second group run for the marathon training. It's only eight miles, for which I'm thankful because the temp is going to be low and the winds high....very Oklahoma-like. If only I had time to go get the heated gloves before tomorrow.... Maybe I'll try to hang with the fast guys again. The quicker we finish the quicker we get coffee.

I started the FIRST training plan this week, as well. It's that three-runs per week plan (speedwork, tempo, and long) that many runners have used to qualify for Boston. I'm not concerned with a BQ at the moment....just something to mix up my runs. I'm pretty loose about it, though, as I've already added an additional run this week. I am following the prescribed speeds, though. Just for the record, this week my runs have been:
Tuesday morning: speedwork - 6 miles
Tuesday evening: running off the "Monday" feeling - 3 miles
Thursday morning: tempo run - 6.5 miles

Anyway, this post is becoming rather boring so I'll sign off. More will come your way later!

wishes and dreams

2009-01-03T21:57:00.000-06:00

I just got home and Sleepless in Seattle is on. The little kid has just called into the radio show and that particular episode was titled "Wishes and Dreams," so that's where I nabbed the title of this post from. It's fairly appropriate because I was just attending a Sneak Peak Open House for some good friends of mine who are FINALLY opening their own gym. It's been a goal of theirs for several years, but you know how much time and money these sorts of ventures take. In any case, they are seeing their "wishes and dreams" come to fruition so we're all really pleased for them.

This morning started the 2009 OKC Memorial Marathon training. We had around 125 runners show up for a six mile run! I'm really proud of this because a) we have one of the greatest marathons in the country, b) this training group started and grown in 2001 by a hero, and c) I'm honored to be on the newly formed committee to keep the training up to that hero's standards. The Oklahoma wind notwithstanding, it was a beautiful morning! Sunny, clear skies and a relatively mild temp of 49 started us out. Of course I was running with three friends who are significantly faster than I am, so my focus was more on the voices in my head screaming "what the @#$%@$# do you think you're doing?!?!" I could have easily dropped back without anyone giving it a second thought, but pride and curiosity to see if I could hang wouldn't let me. I kept up, but sweet mother! By the last half mile, I was contributing nothing to the conversation because I decided that breathing was slightly more important than talking.

Afterward, a few of us jetted over to another area lake to do an annual trail run organized by a friend of mine. He has a 50K and 25K route marked, but you can run whatever distance your legs will take you. Mine only took me seven miles. I started out with the same speed demons from the road earlier, but we grouped off fairly quickly. I ran the last half alone on the trail, and as much as I love running with others, it was rather enjoyable being talked to only by the trees. I'll never be one that only craves solitude when running, but it's a nice change from time to time. I ran back to the start (after turning the wrong way out of the trail head and tacking on an extra hill... I have no idea why I can run the trails with perfect direction and get turned around once I get out!), and waited for my coffee compadres to get back. We headed over to the nearest Starbucks, which, by the way, is NOT just across the interstate as the sign says, and replenished the depleted coffee supply in our bodies. I'm convinced that I need to be at least 98% coffee in order to be fully functional. Medical doctors would argue water, but you know how studies are always contradicting themselves....

While sitting there, we got in a conversation about wine - how bad Oklahoma wines are, how good wines in the rest of the world are, and the joys of Missouri's cotton candy flavored wine. I kid about that last part..... not about the fact that they have cotton candy flavored wine, because they do, but about them being joyous. They are only joyous in the sense that you have something to laugh about, not joyous in flavor. Well, it just so happens that there is a swanky little wine store just a few doors down that custom blends wines for you and will even customize labels! What better way to end the morning than a little bit of wine tasting! We walked over to discover some very interesting blends, such as black currant merlot, raspberry zinfandel, and a nontraditional ice wine (can't remember the flavor of that one). He also let us try a FANTASTIC old vine zin and an incredibly bold barolo. He teased us with the description of a Chilean rioja before telling us that it was no more....sold out at Christmas. Anyway, the place is called Vintner's Cellar and it's on 15th and Bryant in Edmond. Check it out if you get the chance.

So with 6 miles on the roads, 7 miles on the trails, good coffee, and an impromptu wine tasting, it was a great first day of OKC Marathon training and I'm looking forward to next weekend!

resolution running

2009-01-01T19:23:00.000-06:00

Well, I ran it, although it was about a minute and a half slower than my normal 5K time. I'm guessing, anyway, as the link to the results isn't posted yet. I did place second in my age group, but I don't think that my age group was well-represented this morning. Truthfully, it wasn't that bad. The wind was ridiculous, but since the race was an out-and-back, it was at our backs for the second half. Also, I was entertained by another runner's musings on nutrition, supplements, and IBS. It's funny what runners talk about to pass the time....usually it goes from current running and injuries to digestive issues to food. He was doing most of the talking, though, as I was using every ounce of energy I had to move my wine-filled legs. Afterward, a group of us met at the nearest Starbucks to warm up and rehash the prior evening's events while waiting for the annual Runner's Brunch.

Being New Year's Day, there was a lot of talk of resolutions. I heard everything from eat more fruit to doing more yoga to just making it to the year 2010 (probably the most logical goal, eh?). One runner's wife who comes out and cheers everyone on (seriously, she's fantastic - loud, energetic, makes signs.... she needs pom poms!) randomly decided to walk the course today with some of the injured runners. She enjoyed it so much that her resolution was to start entering the races to walk with the possibility of working up to jogging. Good for her! I tend not to make resolutions in the traditional style, but decide to actually do something that I'd been wanting to do. For example, last year I decided to start working my way down the list of restaurants that I'd been wanting to try out. Naturally I stuck to that! This year I plan to successfully can things. I don't have a garden (my thumb is actually on the opposite side of the color spectrum from green!), so I don't really know what I'll can or where I'll get it from, but I will can something. There's a very real danger of botulism poisoning from improperly canned goods, so I guess by successful I mean that I can eat whatever it is without dying shortly after. Anyone else set goals for 2009?

happy new year!

2009-01-01T07:48:00.000-06:00

Just a quick post to say Happy New Year to all two readers of my blog! ;} I'm trying really hard to be excited about the Resolution Run that's taking place in an hour, but the 20 mph winds and the location (Overholser is my least favorite place to run) are working against me.....not to mention the fact that my body is protesting all the cheese, chocolate, and wine from last night. I don't understand that. Haven't the French proven that those are the staples of a healthful diet??? I mean, cheese is loaded with calcium and the chocolate and wine are full of antioxidants. If anything my body should be thanking me for keeping my bones strong and waging war against cancer, right?! In any case, this should be an interesting three miles. We'll see if I have anything to add later, so stay tuned.

finishing white rock

2008-12-27T20:58:00.000-06:00

I'm back, now, to finally finish the White Rock post.....only 9 days later, I know! As you last read, I was able to sign up for the half, and like a kid whose parent just gave into a candy request, I immediately perked up and bounced around the expo with a ridiculous grin on my face. How easy this run was going to be now! I thought nothing of my skimpy salad dinner (can't have pasta) and glass of wine at this great little Italian joint that our group went to that evening. So unconcerned was I, that I even used the complimentary card that came with the room for a second glass of wine that evening at the hotel bar. Without boring you with the details, the complimentary wine turned into a complimentary Widmer Heffeweizen (can't turn down a beer from such a fantastic Oregon brewery!), which turned into a second one of those (impossible to argue with a New York transplant Croatian soccer player!). So two glasses of wine and two beers later brings me to 11:45 p.m. and mildly concerned about the dehydration and sleep deprivation that is ensuing. Notice I said "mildly." After all, I'm only running the half. So I say goodbye to the generous bartender and new hotel friends to take care of all the pre-race preparations before getting into bed.

I beat my alarm clock up the next morning, wide awake and starving. I quickly packed my car, while getting dressed, fighting with the chip, and running water through the coffee pot to heat up and put in my thermos for a start-line breakfast. Twenty minutes later, I was across the street picking up a friend to head over to the start line. This was his first marathon, so he was nervous and excited and dutifully soaking in all the tips and tricks of veteran marathoners. For example, I showed him how to make oatmeal without a microwave or stove. For anyone wondering, you just pour hot water (hence the thermos of hot water) over oats in a styrofoam cup, stir some peanutbutter in, and put the lid on for a few minutes. I then use the end of a plastic spoon (borrowed from the continental breakfast layout) to slice a banana into it. A bit unconventional, but you must admit, resourceful, and we have the perfect pre-race breakfast right there in my car!

We then find the rest of our crew and head over to the start line. We're fairly close to the front because one of the group members is trying to BQ and the others are naturally fast enough to be up there. There we stood, freezing and closely huddled trying to block the wind while our friend announced all the things one announces at the start of the race and waited for the gun to go off. Once it did, we shouted out final "good lucks" and were off.

Unfortunately, I don't remember as much from the race as usual. I was concentrating so hard on running lightly to avoid IT band issues and trying to catch up on my water intake. As you can imagine, I started in a deficit due to the previous night's festivities. I was also trying not to be angry with myself, as I'm usually much more responsible than that. In any case, I do remember loving the course - the scenery, at least....not the surface. And the crowd support was really quite good. There were cheer squads, groups with motivating "Rocky" songs, and excited little high-fiving kids along the way. That, and my physical misery, pushed my legs to run an 11 minute PR. How's that for a shamelessly, boastful way to announce that on my blog?! Truthfully, though, the only explanation I have for shaving that many minutes off my time is that I was so uncomfortable that I just wanted to be done!

After crossing the finish line, I made my way through the food and water tent and then headed over to the beer arena, where I ran into a friend who had come down to run the relay. We cheered on the finishers for a while before heading out. I celebrated the end of the race with a trip to Whole Foods, where I sampled cheese, found some exotic spices, and made friends with the wine guy while waiting to meet some of our group members for a late lunch before heading north. There, we ordered one of everything on the menu (almost kidding) and compared notes on the previous few hours.

As it turns out, the only one of us who had a good run was the first timer. It was cold and windy, and we were all dehydrated (although not all self-induced) and crampy. I'm glad that if any of us had a better time, it was the newbie, because it left him wanting more. He's already looking forward to the next one! Me? I'll just toast to finishing this one upright.

making deals

2008-12-18T08:51:00.000-06:00

I'm going to attempt to make a post (finally!) in between telephone rings to catch you up on what has happened in the last week and a half. The irony is that I've told exactly two people about this blog, one of whom was with me and the other who follows us online anyway. He's good like that.

First thing's first.... The latter friend mentioned above qualified for Boston at Tuscon recently! I tracked him online and knew that day, but I thought that I'd wait until he was able to tell people before posting a GIANT CONGRATULATIONS to M!

Secondly, I went down to Dallas for White Rock with a group of Landrunners last weekend. Side note...for anyone who stumbles upon this blog, OKC Landrunners is the name of our running club. Anyway, I struggled about this because by the time I made the decision to go, the half was closed and I really had no desire to run the full...mostly because I recently learned that so much of the course is concrete, but partly because I didn't care to run around the lake. I really wanted to be there, though, because Bill Rodgers, Dick Beardsley, and a lot of club members were going and I knew we'd have a great time. So I began making deals with the running gods.

Deal number one: I'd need new shoes since mine were shot after the Rock-n-Roll San Antonio Marathon last month, so I'd go to The Runner and if they had them in, then I'd have to run White Rock. Well, I get there and they were out of my size....so I start conjuring up my next deal.

Deal number two: I'd head straight to the expo (after all, Dallas is only three hours away) and if they had my shoes, then I'd have to sign up. I checked the Run On booth, but they were out so I popped over to the Luke's Locker (think that's the name...my apologies if not) booth. I scoured the shelves for my Nike Pegasus size 8. Yes, my feet are, in fact, that big. My grandpa used to say to me that something that big ought to be able to breathe on its own! Anyway, these are one of the few shoes, relatively speaking, that are made for true supinators so they generally aren't stocked very well. One of the workers came over to help me look and we found the one remaining pair. Well, I still wasn't ready. I needed something else to seal the deal, so to speak.

Deal number three (aka shut the hell up and just register, Adi): I needed to find Bravo. He was there to do the announcing at the expo, as well as the start and finish of the races, which is a perfect role for him. He is hands-down one of the most motivating running mentors out there and I knew that it would be a go if he gave any implication that I should bite the bullet. Well, what do you think he said? "Go on athlete. You feel good, don't race it (like I ever race these things!), and just enjoy it." He's so much more tactful about these things, I'm thinking, as my mind is just screaming to "shut the hell up and just register, Adi!" So over to the registration booth I go.

Can you believe that at this point I'm still fighting with myself?! I think I've exhausted myself worrying about running on all that concrete and I'm starting to act like a toddler who needs a nap....pouting and pissy. I'm hiding it well, though, as I do have some sense of self-awareness. Besides, it's nobody else's fault that my legs are choosy about their running surface. In any case, the volunteers directed me to a computer to submit my information and then I'd pay them to complete the registration. I jiggle the mouse so the screen would appear, and there's the box telling me to choose my event. The only choice available is the marathon, so I click it really fast as if taking .5 seconds to click as opposed to 1 full second is going make a difference. I felt sort of like I was standing in the doorway of a plane with a parachute strapped to my back trying to decide if sky-diving is really the right thing for me...a bit dramatic, I know. After telling the computer my name, age, and who to contact in case my legs crumble into little bits on the course I take two steps to the left to pay the guy. That's when he asks me, "Now which event are you registering for?" In this befuddled, yet zombie like state I said "I clicked full because that was my only choice. Is the half an option?" "Well, today it is for you," he says. If it wouldn't have been totally inappropriate, not to mention weird, I would've leapt across the counter (undoubtedly there to protect the volunteers from crazy, self-argumentative runners like myself) and hugged him!

Okay, my phone will not stop ringing so I'm going to have to put this on hold for now. Stay tuned...

bracing for the cold

2008-12-07T19:51:00.000-06:00

I just spent the last hour and a half looking for gloves, and for someone who hates any shopping that isn't for books, wine, or groceries, that's a huge accomplishment! Well, it would be had I actually made a purchase. I'm looking for a pair that one would wear were they planning a week-long trek through Antarctica. No, I'm not going to Antarctica....that's just how cold my hands feel in these somewhat less treacherous Oklahoma winters! In the past, I've just worn three (okay, sometimes four) pair of gloves with those little warmer things that hunters used tucked inside, but peeling off all those layers while trying to order a coffee after the run takes up valuable time. Not to mention the number of stares it garners.... I know people are wondering why I'm out there running in such conditions that require all this bundling up! Truthfully, I wonder that myself sometimes. Anyway, in my internet search (oh yeah, I was shopping from home, as I couldn't be bothered to layer on the gloves and venture out into the cold), I found what may be the winter glove of all winter gloves - battery powered heated mittens! It's like the running gods are smiling down on me. Now if only I can find someone who has seen these to verify that they actually work. So if anyone out there stumbles upon this post, take a look at these and let me know what you think. Thanks in advance for saving me precious minutes in the Starbucks line.

http://www.amazon.com/Battery-Powered-Mittens-Conditions-Thinsulate%C2%AE/dp/B001I8208S/ref=pd_sbs_a_5

On another note, yesterday was the Downtown in December 5K.....fun course, lots of good costumes, coffee at the end, and I took third in my age group.

step one

2008-12-04T22:35:00.000-06:00

The title of this blog is lifted from a phrase that one of my running heroes once said. Actually, he said this me during the final stretch of a half-marathon course several years ago before we had even officially met. A friend of mine and I were running this race together, obviously more for the experience than time, and she was having some IT band issues that caused us to run, stop, stretch, and walk, then run, stop, stretch, and walk. As we're nearing the final mile, said hero is jauntily running upon us as we're in a 'walking' phase, and he looks at me with that big smile and says "come run a few steps with me." And we did....

Sadly, I won't be able to run anymore steps with him as we've just had his memorial service. So begins the run without Jack.