Destination: Marathon

Have you ever combined a race with a vacation? I want to hear about it. Was it fun? Life-changing? Stressful? Where did you go? Did you take your kids? Go with friends? Would you do it again?

My first marathon was the 2013 Disney Full.

The Disney Marathon Weekend was wonderful. The race well-organized with loads and loads of cheering fans. In 2014, I will return to Disney to complete Goofy's Race and a Half. On a hopefully cool Saturday, I will run the Disney Half and on Sunday (yep, the very next day) I will hobble the Disney Full. And, as last year, I will do this through Team in Training, raising money for blood cancer research and patient support.

As a Superoo for Trekaroo.com, I write reviews of family vacations. Since I combined a family vacation to the Happiest Place on Earth with the most grueling endurance event of my life, it seemed logical to review the RunDisney series. In fact, I've been "working on" this RunDisney review for a while. I started writing it 3 months ago. Hmm. Looks like I have a case of writer's block.

So it occurred to me. How many of you have gone on vacation to run? Tell me about it in the comments section, and help unblock this struggling writer!

The Devil in the Details

I don't consume news. I listen to NPR, but refuse to watch local or nightly news. I rarely visit internet news sites like CNN and when I do, it is only if I am looking for a particular story.

Surprisingly, though, I find myself on CNN.com tonight.

What is the name of the eight year old boy? Was he waiting to see a parent cross the finish line?

Who were the bombers? Are they in custody?

Why a marathon? Why the finish line? Of course we can answer these two questions as easily as we  ask them. Whoever the deranged loser(s) behind these murders, obviously they were looking for attention. The world's most famous race. Thousands of innocent people. A crowded location. The loser(s) have already received the notoriety they were hoping for and their name(s) haven't yet been mentioned.

But mostly, there is one detail I am eager to know. How did it feel to be at mile 26.1, the finish line in sight, exhausted, ready to collapse. And then have to start a new race?

I've been at the finish line of a large, well-organized race. Sweat dripping, my legs transforming from rubber to stone. My mind was chaos, disoriented. I could barely make it to claim my checked bag. I couldn't find the tent where I was supposed to check in even though it was large and purple and swarming with runners and volunteers wearing the same shirt I had on.

If an explosion had occurred, even an innocent, accidental one, I can only imagine how confused I would have been.

So how did runners -- exhausted, dehydrated, hobbling, many probably already dealing with injuries -- how did they sprint forward and start offering help? How did they have strength to deal with wounds they incurred when they were already debilitated? How did some continue on to donate blood? How did they move, even if just away from the sound of the explosions?

I am convinced I would have stood paralyzed. Not by fear, but by confusion.

Then there is a another question that will probably also go unanswered. The timing?

4:09. Was it an accident? 4:09 is impressive by most standards, but certainly not the fastest of Boston's elite. 4:09 in Boston would be older qualifiers, perhaps injured qualifiers, and charity runners. Were they going for a larger crowd of finishers as runners ended and hung out to cheer for others? I don't know  if I would feel any different if the explosion had been at 2:10:22, when the winner was crossing, but somehow this later timing seems even more tragic.

And then, lastly, when you get past the runners and think about the finish line of any race, even a 5K. There are 4 important groups of people: the runners, the spectators, the volunteers, and the police and paramedics.

When I think about the spectators, I'm crushed. I'm not the only one in my family who has been at the end of a big race. My children. My husband. My mom. My niece and nephews. My brother, brother-in-law, and sisters-in-law. Smiling, hugging, taking pictures. Celebrating with signs, "Go Team!" "You've got this." " I beat cancer, you can do this marathon."

Spectators are the unsung heroes of any race. They cheer just as loud for the pokies like myself as they do for the winners. I'm tempted to call spectators innocent bystanders, which is absurd since everyone in that crowd yesterday was "innocent". But the spectators are not simply there for entertainment. It's a marathon, it's not that exciting. They are there to lend support. They make the race possible, along with the volunteers and support staff.

I ran a Half on Sunday. During the race, I felt so lucky to be part of the running community. Where else can a middle age woman get cheers for a Sunday morning jog? A beautiful woman with an afro stood at the top of a vicious hill. "You got this hill, girl! Keep it up! You look great." My form picked up. I smiled. I pushed on. The kindness of strangers is so very real in a marathon. And those kind strangers deserved better than this.

The spectators at the finish. I want to know their stories. I want to consume this news. Why were they there? Were they pulling for a parent who spent the year training just to get here? Were they pulling for a charity runner who they helped raise thousands for cancer research? Were they locals, there to cheer for some of the world's most impressive runners? Were they thinking, "Maybe next year I'll train for one of these!"

Usually I find no value in obsessing over these tragedies. I turn off the news. The media will never answer the most important question of all: Why? I refuse to discuss, speculate. I refuse to sensationalize the loser(s) who perpetrated the crime.

But in the wee hours of the night, I find myself thinking of the runners and their families and everyone else at that finish line. It doesn't even seem real yet. And I find myself wanting to know more.

I know I won't be able to answer these questions. Not today, or anytime soon. So I'm going to accept that. I'm going to turn off the news and even facebook. I'm going to wear my favorite running shirt and I'm going to run today. I hope you'll join me. Even if you aren't a runner. Just go for a short jog to remember the victims and to celebrate the Spirit of Boston.

This Runner Needs a Goal. Suggestions Welcome!

The time is 1:24:49 AM. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Most nights, I fall asleep then wake in the middle of the night. Tonight I have yet to sleep at all. It started with a glass of wine. Why didn't I just have a beer?

Reasonable people are sleeping right now. My dog is wondering why I've joined him on the couch.




Even the guinea pig is quiet.

There is work tomorrow. And Friday. And Saturday. 

I should be sleeping or carb loading or planning my strategy for this Sunday's Half.

But there are so many distractions. So many reasons to lie awake thinking, worrying, planning.

Work. A cluttered house. A trekaroo trip next week. Not one but two birthday parties to plan in the next month. A triathlon in 6 weeks.

So my back-to-back Halfs are taking a backseat to Life.

I set a PR at Tobacco Road several weeks ago. That was a flat, cool race. This Half, on the other hand, is hilly and will be a tad warmer. Plus, it will be my second race in less than a month. Odds for a new PR are not in my favor. So while I've continued to train I've lacked focus. Clearly I need a goal for this race. Any suggestions?

Running on Air

Sunday was the Tobacco Trail Marathon and Half. A flat, speedy course where ambitious runners set out to BQ, and I set out to PR in my second-ever Half Marathon.

I set a clear goal: under 2:15 (my first half was 2:24:24 on a mildly hilly course in November). I also set a "hope". Under 2:10. But deep down, this competitive girl knew 2:10 was the real goal.

The strategy: start off easy, begin gradually increasing the pace after the first 3 miles, then continue to pick it up through the gradual incline from 8 to 10, leaving enough in the tank to push hard at the end.

The challenge: I've been told that every race will bring some moment that you could not possibly have planned for. Mine was starting out beside the 2:10 pacer. This was not intentional. This was not a blessing in disguise. This was bad. I do not run well with others. I'm a surly, competitive runner who smiles and seems chipper but on the inside says many, many four letter words. So as our chatty 2:10 pacer set out to be the next John Bingham, I cringed.

Then I did what you are supposed to do when a race throws you a curve ball. Count to 10. Then think, "Am I going to die?" No. "Can I continue?" Yes. What do I need to change to make that happen?

I have to run my own race. I don't do well if someone else sets the pace - fast or slow. The only choices were to slow down and risk not finishing in 2:10 or continuing to run into this pacer or to speed up, break free and risk tiring myself early. I chose option two.

I pushed ahead. It was an ever-so-slightly hilly start, but I pushed to get far enough ahead to not have to battle with the group of 2:10ers the whole race. I felt some minor discomfort in my calves, but nothing major. I kept on moving now at a steady, comfortable pace.

I kept waiting for IT band tightness. It never came. I kept waiting for the knee clicking or pain that has been part of every training run since Disney. It never came. I focused on my pace, my stride, my breaths. I focused on relaxing my arms, engaging my core. I sipped water.

One mile turned into the next. I wasn't experiencing a runner's high, where you're suddenly inspired and invincible. But I was very much in the zone.

At 6.55 miles I has plenty "left in the tank" and started gradually picking up speed. As expected, miles 8 to 11 were the most challenging mentally, but they were not as bad as I expected. I felt like I was continuing to gain speed. At mile 11.5 I found myself wanting to run slow. I didn't give in. I said, "It will feel so good to push harder, finish tired, and be proud. Don't think 'I could have given more. I could have finished faster.'"

I finished in 2:10:42. Just over my "hope" goal of 2:10 and well under my 2:15 goal. Even better, I beat my City of Oaks half by almost 14 minutes. I'm elated. To run smart and pain-free felt like nothing I have ever experienced. Sure, the weather and the course were in my favor. But my focus and training played a role as well. And I'm feeling really proud of that!

My next race is in 4 weeks. I'm not hoping for a PR there. I'm just going out to have fun, while my husband runs his first Half ever. We won't run together. He's much speedier than I am. But I'll be thrilled to see him waiting for me with a beer at the finish line!

Quinoa Maple Breakfast Porridge

While preparing last night's delicious rice and tempeh with red peanut curry, I went ahead and cooked a big pot of quinoa. I stuck it in the fridge over night looking forward to a breakfast porridge.

Since quinoa is so nutritious - a whole grain and a complete protein source - I have wanted to  incorporate it into my diet for some time. Up until now, though, I have had bad luck with the execution.

This breakfast porridge has changed all that:

1/2 cup cooked quinoa (prepared ahead of time is fine)
1/4 - 1/2 cup soy or almond milk
1 diced granny smith apple
2 tablespoons slivered almonds
1/2 - 1 tablespoon maple syrup
(I could have added chia or flax seed but didn't think of that until later. )

Microwave 1.5 minutes and enjoy.

This recipe is inspired by one in Eat and Run by Scott Jurek. I highly recommend this book if you're looking for running or dietary inspiration. This book and the eating it is inspiring are helping me focus on my upcoming Half this Sunday. I'm in taper mode, which was bringing a bit of stress with it. By focusing on nutrition, those pre-race jitters have subsided and I've started to look forward to Sunday's race.

Now I'm off for an easy 4 miles in the sun!

Eat and Run

I painted the kids bedroom on Sunday. I'm a chemical-phobe and wanna-be tree hugger, so naturally I investigated several low or "no" VOC options. The first option, a German product called Unearthed Paint, was truly no-VOC. Biodegradable, mineral-based paint, natural and of the Earth, so to speak. I ordered a sample which arrived in a brown paper bag and required my blender for mixing the white powder with water and natural pigment. What resulted was a drippy watery mess. The sample looked light and airy and slightly chalky on the wall, great for a kids room. But the drippiness made it very hard to handle.

Months passed. I debated ordering a second sample. Trying to make it work. But this paint would cost 100s to cover the wall. And then the Bzz Agent free gallon of Benjamin Moore Aura "no" VOC paint offer arrived. I had considered this paint initially but knew it was not biodegradable, not truly VOC-free. Still, how do you say no to a free gallon of $60-70 paint?

I bought the paint plus another gallon. More months passed. In exchange for the free paint I was supposed to use it then review it, talk it up online. But I couldn't bring myself to.

Finally this weekend I cracked the can and painted the dreadful 80s not-quite-Hunter green walls a deep lavender my daughter picked. I couldn't be more disappointed.

The paint went on evenly and covered the green in one coat without priming. BUT. The fumes! Maybe these are environmentally friendly fumes, who knows. But they're bad. Three nights later and the kids are still sleeping in our room thanks to the paint fumes.

Maybe these fumes are more environmentally-friendly than other. I don't know. But the room wreaks  of chemicals and I'm kicking myself for not going with the German paint. My kids could have taste-tested Unearthed Paints and I wouldn't have worried.

There is an advantage, though, to the fumes, to the kids sleeping in our room. No mindless TV for three days. The only TV in the house is in our room and it is usually off until until the kids go to bed. Now it is staying off. And we have been reading.

Scott Jurek's life story "Eat and Run" has my full attention. He is one of the top ultramarathoners in the world and he advocates a plant-based, (vegan), unprocessed, organic diet for runners and all planet-conscious humans. He even includes recipes.

I've attempted to go veg in the past with varying degrees of success. I believe a vegan diet makes sense for the body and the planet but I've never been good at restricting foods. Then again, until a year ago I had never been good at exercising regularly, so maybe it is time to try again. The most successful we have been was when the whole family went vegetarian after our daughter's last round of chemo. We felt Veges and Fruits would help detox her body from the arsenal of chemo and other meds that had been thrown at her. We lasted about a year until my husband went back to work (after a 4 year stint as a stay at home dad). Since he's the family cook, it fell apart after that.

But it's time to try again. I want to run faster. I want to feel healthier and leaner. I am eating too much junk. I haven't declared the family meat-free, but I am dabbling in plant-based meals. Last night was bean taco night. Tonight I made tempeh and rice with red curry peanut sauce and a side salad of brussel  sprout leaves, fresh grapefruit, and avocado topped with sriracha walnuts. Very bit from scratch!

I have to thank Jurek for his inspiration and recipes! When I finish his book I'll have to find another similar one to keep me on track. Any suggestions?

Tuesday Muse-day

Lately I've been thinking about my friend Bill. He's sort of a renaissance man. Mechanic. Distance runner. Father to a rather successful crew of kids, including a couple of doctors. He's endlessly interesting to talk to.

There are probably many more things I don't know about Bill. I only recently learned that he's a dancer in a local modern dance company. Bill has a ponytail and graying mustache. If I had to guess I'd say he is in his 50s. Not what you picture when someone says "dancer". Or even runner. And that's what has me thinking.

What does a runner look like? Or a dancer? Dance is central to most cultures, a part of celebrations and self-expression, but in the West, we strip dance from its humanity.

You must look like a dancer. Behave like a dancer. Be a dancer. Or you aren't a dancer.

We go to ballet lessons. We are told to hold in our tummies in. We plié and relevé to soul-less music.

"I don't dance." We say at parties. "I don't have rhythm." But not kids. Turn music on and they can't help themselves.

And what about running? The way we ran as children? Impromptu foot races.  Barefoot or in sandles. Skirts or jeans. On dirt, sand, road. Only later, does running become an activity that requires $100 shoes, a start and finish line, K-tape, a mileage-tracking app, and many, many Facebook posts.

Runners divide themselves into those who run with music and those who don't. Maybe those of us running with music are looking to tap into something more primal. Running. Dancing. Losing ourselves in the music.

Here are a few songs to lose yourself to:

1. Scream and Shout (Will.I.Am feat. Brittany Spears)
2. Girl on Fire (Alicia Keyes feat. Nicki Minaj) - I made this a power song on my Nike Running app.
3. Body Movin' (Beastie Boys Fatboy Slim Remix)
4. What? (A Tribe Called Quest)
5. Lose Yourself (Eminem) - Great for running hills. Just picture yourself in a hooded sweatshirt, shoulders slightly hunched and you'll instantly feel unstoppable.