Dad

I started running with my dad when I was about ten and running in a youth track club.  We would run two miles together in the hot summer evenings.  The course was always the same: one mile out, walk a block, then run the rest of the mile home.  I still remember the sounds of the frogs we tried to avoid and the snails crunching that we couldn't.  I don't remember what we talked about, but I remember feeling pretty grown up to be running with my dad.  Dad was never the type to push me or the pace, and we never started a watch or logged miles, but we just ran and talked. It was perfect. 

As I grew and became more serious about running, we still ran together, though less regularly. When we did run together, the course varied, and the pace picked up, but when I needed him for a running companion, Dad was always there.  When I was running faster than he wanted to, Dad even followed me in the car or went with me to the track to keep a lookout. I knew he was right behind me as always, watching, supporting, silently cheering.  

After I left home for college, I treasured my occasional runs with dad even more. I ran with Dad whenever I came home for a holiday.  I would be chatting the whole time as I matched my pace to his, he prompting with a question now and again. He never told me what to do, but asked my opinion and let me work out ideas for myself.  It was my chance to have the undivided attention of a busy man whose approval I needed, and I think it was his chance to show me how much he loved me.   At least that was the messge I got.

I loved that in recent years we ran on relay teams together, and that he started getting excited about time, pace and mileage.  We could chat as equals about training, races, and running gear, as well as work, family, and faith.  We still ran together on vacations, and whenever else we could.  It was reassuring that whatever new phase of life we went through, some things were always the same when we ran. 

Until a year ago. My Dad went for a run and never came back.  He suffered a heart attack while on his morning  run. The strange irony is that his heart was fine while he was running; it only stopped when he stopped.   I ran guiltily while he lay in the hospital, because I needed to make sense of the world and yet running seemed to be suddenly dangerous.  I kept planning how our running routine would change when he came home, and tried to figure out how I could keep running if he didn't.  Unfortunately, he never recovered the way we expected, despite heroic efforts, and we had to say good bye. 

Even though he isn't around in person anymore, I still run with my dad.  I talk to him as I log the quiet miles; I hear echoes of his voice cheering during my races (go Emmie! You are a machine!). I know he found peace and joy when running, and I know he would want me and my siblings all to keep running, too.  I never told him how much this meant to me that we ran together, and I realize now that running wasn't the most important thing.  Running itself was just another reason to be together.   But while running, Dad taught me that I was important, that what I had to say mattered, and that he loved me.  So thanks Dad, I'll catch you on the next run. 

Marathon tips

One week until race day, and I am running through my mental checklist of to-do's.  I will share my last minute race prep tips.

Do: double check your race gear when you pack.  You would hate to get there without your shoes.  

Don't: plan on getting any sleep the night before.  Between hydrating that takes you to the bathroom every few hours, worrying about sleeping in and missing the race, and worrying about the race itself, it probably won't be a full night of sleep.  

Do: try and get good sleep every other night the week before the race and you will still be fine.  

Don't: go to Olive Garden at six o'clock the night before a race.  Every other racer in town will be there too. 

Do: eat a reasonable dinner at a reasonable hour and pack snacks you are used to eating.

Don't: forget to bring something to eat in the morning.  Mini mart donuts on the way to the bus are not a good idea.

Do: check the course map to make sure you will have nutrition when you expect it, and bring your own for back up if you need it.  

Don't: miss the expo, and bring your ID.  You need to pick up your packet, but it is just fun to hang out with everyone else and get excited about the cool running gear with people who understand.  

Do: bring a headlamp or other light to the start of pre dawn races.  You can drop it in your gear bag when it gets light, but it helps to be able to see a bit when they drop you off a the side of the road at 4:30am.  

Don't: drop your headlamp into the port a potty.  Or shine it in either for that matter.  

Do: keep yourself amused during the race by seeing if you can make a basket with your water cup into the garbage.  Give yourself a mental pat on the back for not littering.  

Don't: take a cup and stop immediately in the middle of the road.  You will get rear ended.  

Do: print off a pace bracelet with your desired times per mile that you can wear during the race.
When you get tired, it gets harder to calculate and figure out whether or not you are still on pace. (I like www.marathonguide.com)

Don't: start counting miles before 13, maybe even 18.  That just makes it feel longer.  

Do: have fun!  Run hard and enjoy the whole experience.  Happy marathon!

Race pictures

I just got saw proofs from my half marathon official race pictures. Unfortunately they did not look the way I imagine I do when I run.  See, when I feel good, I imagine I look like a cross between Olympians and running models, smooth, strong, lean, well-groomed, and breathing easily with my well-defined muscles in perfect form.  Maybe even smiling slightly, because I look good.  

In reality, even when I feel good, I look like a galloping, red faced hippo.  My hair swings wildly, my smile is a grimace, my body looks contorted instead of smooth, and my quads are always in recoil so they never show the muscles I'm sure must have been present but apparently ran to hide when they saw the photographer.  And on a bad day, it is even worse.

To prevent terrible pictures, I have decided all future running pictures should be taken of me from the knee down.  What can go wrong with the calf? As long as it is clean shaven, the calf always looks how it is supposed to, strong and orderly.  It does its job and looks good doing it.  The ankle and the shoe always follow in line.  This way I won't have to worry about my face showing the strain that I feel, spit hanging from my chin as I gasp for what could be my dying breath right when the photographer snaps the next shot.  Calf-only shots will show none of that.  

My sweet mother in law, who would never intentionally say anything unkind, convinced me of how I must really look when I run.  She saw me after my post race shower and commented, "Wow.  You look beautiful.  Not like you ran at all." At least now I know.  Perhaps appreciating the beauty of a runner mid-race is an acquired taste.

Marathons

I have decided marathoning is a lot like child birth:  you would never do it twice if you remembered what it was like. You remember enough of the good stuff, and forget all the bad stuff, so you sign up for another marathon and then you remember.  Oh, do you remember.  It is wonderful in the end, but there are a lot of aches and pains along the way.

Making time to run

I passed someone today while I was running who first said,"I wish I had time to run."  Then he followed up by saying, "how do you have time to do it?"  My initial response was "I have a good husband who is home with the kids so I can run."  While true, that is the short answer.  Here is the long version. 

I make time to run.  My husband's job has him mostly working afternoons, and as a stay at home mom, I generally have the whole morning to get a workout in.  He is good about watching the kids for me because he knows it makes me healthy and happy. But there are also a lot of days where I am up at 5 to run while it is still dark so I can get home before life starts, I have to make breakfast, the husband leaves, kids wake, etc.  Sometimes I squeeze in a run when my husband is home at lunch, or right before bed on busy days.  I've even hired babysitters so I can get a run in.  On days that both my spouse  and I run and work, it feels like we are tag team parents handing off kids and responsibilities and things can be a little crazy.  But if it is important, you will make time for it. 

Run time is a habit. I have been running for the last 20 years, with a few days off here and there.  It has become such an ingrained habit that asking, "will I have time to run today," would be like asking if I have time to take a shower or eat.  The honest answer might be not really, but it has to be done anyway.  Instead, I simply say, "I have to run" and then figure out what can be cut out to make room in the day.  

If you don't have time to run you are too busy. There are many demands on each person's time.  I recognize that I have arranged my life to provide time to run, and not everyone can give as much time as I do.  But I also think that if you really want to, anyone can find time to run.  Yes, it might mean giving up other worthwhile activities.  That are things I would like to do, but cannot, because it would mean either trading in running time or sacrificing family time.  But everyone has some down time.  Maybe it is a lunch hour, reading the newspaper or watching tv in the evenings, or beauty sleep.  If running is the priority, you do it instead.  Besides, the run can become your down time activity or your relaxation

So just because you see someone out running, don't assume they have lots of leisure time they decided to fill by running.  I prioritize and schedule tightly some days to make time, but it is always worth it to get that run in.  I feel better about myself, stress levels go down, and I can care for those around me better when I have taken care of myself, which makes everyone happier. That is how I have time to run. 

Translations

All runners get asked "how do you feel" on a regular basis.  The common answer is "fine" and that's it.  Other typical answers are equally concise yet equally uninformative. I imagine many runners are the same; we hate to give away too much information and don't often have breath for a longer answer.  But sometimes more response is actually needed, like when a coach asks. So for those who really want to know, here is my translation of the one-word answers to the question "How do you feel".

1.  Good:  I could run like this for days.  I'm in the zone, don't bother me.

2.  Fine:  I am still alive and moving forward, so no need to worry yet.

3.  Ok:  I would really like to be done now but don't want to look like a wimp for admitting it. 

4. Tired: my legs are about to fall off and I might have to drag myself to the finish 

5.  Not good:  It all hurts and I might throw up. Check me for a pulse, and get the IV ready. 

6.  No response, just a long glare:  I hate you for even asking.  I will never to do this again. 

Shoes

My husband confessed the other day that he likes running (and probably other sports) because it is the only time guys can talk about shoes with other guys without sacrificing masculinity.  I knew somewhere deep, deep, deep down he cared about shoes like I do.  I'm sure he has other reasons to enjoy running as well, but once you've got cute shoes, who really cares what you do while wearing them.  

10 reasons sedentary people dislike runners

Normally runners are a pretty congenial group of people.  We try to be healthy, look for ways to improve, and hang out with other runners. We have a wonderfully supportive group of friends and family that make our hobby possible.  But it has come to my attention that there is a group of dissenters who would love to see runners become couch potatoes like themselves, and will go out of their way to be obnoxious towards runners. You might recognize them when they yell at you, swerve too close, honk from inches away, or make fun of you in public.  Though they will never read this or change, at least we runners can understand why they feel the way they do. Here are the reasons why some people dislike runners.

1. It's the legs.  Everybody wants sleek, lean legs that are evenly tanned (at least between socks and short) and rippling with muscles.  Runners have them and the backside to go with it. Be jealous.  

2. Everyone wants a medal. It is cool and rare to do something worthy of a medal in adulthood.  It takes several hours of sustained effort plus months of training to earn the medal that is awarded to finishers of half-or full marathons.  You deserve a medal for all that hard work and that makes people who don't run envy you.  

3. We have a built in excuse to be anti-social and go to bed early. Everyone needs an escape some time.  Runners have a natural excuse to get away from the noise and stress of life by saying they need to train. And to train, we need to sleep. So we can get away from anything at anytime with a good reason. 

4. We can eat guilt free. Calories are our friends and our fuel.  While Couch Potato Man shows evidence of his bag of chips through his spare tire, we eat donuts without showing anything through our spandex.  Steak and potatoes become recovery foods instead of just a heavy high-carb meal.  Now I'm salivating.

5. The glory days of our sport don't end in high school.  Most runners peak in their twenties or thirties, and even after that you can keep chasing age group and masters PRs.  Besides, the endurance and toughness grows with age, so you never really slow down. It is one of the few things you can keep doing for life. Not like any other sport, where you end your playing days with your high school team and then become an armchair quarterback reflecting on what could have been.   

6.  We don't obey traffic laws. This makes people angry when they have to stop at lights with no other cars present or they are stuck in traffic and you go cruising by.  Although we do have to be cautious for our own safety, traffic laws are for VEHICULAR traffic, not pedestrians.  

7.  We go places and see things most people don't.  We get outside on roads, trails, and paths at all times of the year, at all times of the day, and in all kinds of conditions.  We are moving slow enough to notice things and experience the world in a way that Couch Potato Man never will, which makes him feel excluded and sad.

8.  It's too simple.  It makes people suspicious.  Too many haters associate running with punishment in PE as children, and so cannot understand why any sane person would do it.  They don't want to hear the simple explanation that was as true in PE as it is now: running feels good.  Movement is joyful.  Therefore, we do it. It really is that easy.  

9.  Lack of endorphins.  Runners feel good because they are healthy and exercise stimulates production of endorphins, which make us happy.  Couch Potato Man is grouchy because he doesn't have endorphins and therefore hates everyone who does. 

10.  It's hard.  Running is fun, but it is hard.  The longer it has been since a running experience, the harder it will be to begin. Not everyone can cut it, so they resent those who can.   When Couch Potato Man figures out that he can do something hard too, he will be more friendly toward runners everywhere. 

So I guess it comes down to jealousy, exclusion, and inferiority.  Couch potato man doesn't like that you are better than him in a sport he doesn't understand and doesn't feel a part of, with really cool perks he doesn't get.  Sorry man.  

How to be a good parent

I don't know all the secrets of parenting, but this seems like a good one. 
It is a reminder of how to go from being coach/athlete to parent.  

It is easy, but important.  Thanks to my friend who posted this first.  

http://growingleaders.com/blog/what-parents-should-say-as-their-kids-perform/

Off the beaten path

One unforeseen benefit of all this marathon training is that I have gotten to explore new territory.  I got tired of running my usual routes after running them all three or four times a week, so I started looking for new places to run.  In the past I've been hesitant to explore new places out of fear of dogs, hills, and rednecks, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so I started taking a new turn every once in a while.  I honestly didn't realize how many roads my town had (albeit many of them dirt) or how many birds of prey there are circling these roads.  Not every road has led to a romantic running route (read "The Birds" entry, for example), but many have turned out better than expected, which is more than you can say about many roads in life.  

Here are my tips for breaking out of a rut, whatever it may be:

1.  Start somewhere new. Normally I run from home because it is convenient and time efficient.  But by driving a couple miles away, I open up many new scenic possibilities.  Try running at a new park, around a lake, in the hills, or on a trail, anything that gets you somewhere fresh. 

2.  Try a different time of day.  The world looks different from a different perspective.  Tired of always running in the evening?  Get up early and watch the sun rise.  Or go out for a few miles at lunch to see the bustling world at high noon. 

3.  Vary your mileage. You can't get new places by always going the same places.  Five miles on the same course every day will quickly bore you to death.  Take a shorter day, then push yourself to go longer the next so you can see at least a few new sights.  

4.  Find a buddy.  Everything is better with a friend.  Join a running club, invite someone to meet up, or mentor a younger runner.  It will help to vary the pace and the conversation and you might discover something new by looking through new eyeballs. 

Do yourself a favor. Do your best Robert Frost and take a "road less traveled". Take a different turn today. Explore new possibilities. Make friends with new cows. But still watch out for the birds.  Happy running.