365 Days From Today...The Flow of Time

"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself" ~ George Bernard Shaw

"What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: "This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence - even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!"
Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus?... Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?"  The Gay Science ~ Fredrick Nietzsche'

This is a "what if". A conditional. In philosophy, it's called a "thought experiment", and it's meant to tweak certain intuitions - to press certain issues - to challenge the way we may see things. Thought experiments are often frustrating, because we're not allowed to change them to suit our purposes. We aren't allow to change the conditions so that the problem magically disappears. This makes us uncomfortable. But then in life, can we just make our problems disappear?...

Now you can say to dear Mr. Nietzsche, there's no way life can be all good - that I would want to live every moment over and over, for all eternity - but how about the whole of your life?? That's what he's getting at. When you are about to take your last breathe, have you lived well? 

So I reworked this idea to, perhaps, make it more manageable:

Think about the last 365 days. What do you remember? What will you remember 365 days from today? How about today? Will you remember today? How about tomorrow? 

I purposely say this as the "last 365 days" because perhaps we should be asking ourselves this each day of the year, not just on January 1st, and then after some weeks pass, dismiss the thought altogether, until the next January 1st. 

This thought occurred to me as I realized that I just passed the one year anniversary of a fairly serious and scary concussion, that left me pretty messed up for several months...and moderately messed up for several more. But thinking back on this year, even with the bad parts, these past 365 days have been an amazing adventure, much of it rooted in running and the challenges and gifts running presents to me - IF I grab them. And this year I did grab them I said "Oh what the hell, I might as well..." a whole lot more than I have for the past several years. I played it a little less safe, even though there is no safety net waiting to catch me if I fall, and sometimes it's terrifying. But in the end I feel like I actually did live, at least a little.

We all know, even if we don't consciously acknowledge it, that time passes, and days pass, and years pass, and then we find ourselves on the other side. But where have we been? Where have we gone? What have WE done? What has simply happened to us? It's so easy to get caught up in the daily challenge of just getting through it. We take a deep breath and push on. We survive. And then we do it all over again...and again...and again. And then ten years later? What?

In Letter from Birmingham Jail, Martin Luther King Jr. touches on the issue of time and change, and while his focus is on social/moral change, what he says applies to each of our lives as well. He correctly points out that there is a:

"...strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively...Human progress never rolls in on wheels on inevitability; it comes through tireless effort..." MLK, Jr. Letter from Birmingham Jail

The idea that TIME itself changes anything is bogus, passive, reactionary - and I believe, ultimately, pessimistic. It's action IN TIME that creates a life as opposed to just letting time pass and allowing life to happen to me. Most of us (perhaps my assumptions are incorrect on this), okay sometimes I, allow life to happen and I ride it like a wave. The wave takes me where it will. I get to shore and breathe a sigh of relief. I made it. But I'm not really living my life in those instances, I'm allowing my life to live me. I'm allowing the things around my to direct me, like a maze set out by something else. I just passively wind my way through -  the way one must go. This is not how I really want to live. But it is so much easier.

I need to remind myself of this, over and over again, as I get caught between taking the safe route, staying with what I know, with what I have, or risking it all...and for what? I don't know. I go back and forth between the self talk:  "Oh, things could be worse" and "You've got a pretty good deal even though you're miserable". Be reasonable...reasonable...reasonable. 

May the strength I've gained through running help me in other ways over the next 365 days...and beyond.

"Your Problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over people and circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are" ~ Anne Lamott

How to Avoid Noodling

"Champions are everywhere: all you need is to train them properly..." ~ Arthur Lydiard

If I had a penny for how many times I've been asked "What's the best marathon training program to use", I'd be a very, very wealthy woman. 

Many marathoners, both novice and experienced, end up doing a lot of cutting-and-pasting when it comes to marathon training. Noodling around with this workout or that workout or running what they feel like running - taking this and that from different training programs:  long runs, Medium long runs, GA (general aerobic) runs, hills, tempos, AT (anaerobic threshold) runs, progression runs, MP (marathon pace runs), intervals (400/800/1200/1600???), etc. The logic goes like this: If I just take the best sounding training runs from each approach I'll have a killer program...and of course it might just kill me too. Worse of all is the tendency to stick with what you've done before, even if it didn't work (remember that tried and true definition of insanity). Oh, but this time it will be different! Or, having new goals and doing exactly what you've done in the past, which may have worked in the past but will doing the same thing work again, now with new goals. If a plan worked, I'll just do it again but I'll run everything faster. Brilliant!

            "Noodling:

A form of fishing in which a crazy person runs into a lake and searches for holes on the bottom with his foot. Then he inserts his finger into the hole and lets something bite it. Hopefully, it's a catfish. If so, he wrestles the catfish to the surface and drags it to shore. If its not a catfish, he may lose his finger to a snapping turtle or his life to a water moccasin." (Urban Dictionary)

You, taking charge of the situation. Yo!

Now there's many other definitions for "Noodling" (most of them sexual - as in bad sex - in nature) but what the above definition points to is the somewhat crazed, ad hoc, haphazard, risky, willy-nilly nature of noodling around with training programs. I don't care that this is not an approved use of the word (Hello, OED, take notice - new use in the lexicon ;)

I've even had runners contact me and ask me to look at their training and their program. I look at what they're doing and make suggestions. The response is often: "So I should just add some miles on to the plan I'm using???" Oh dear!!! That is NOT how it works. That's noodling - here you tweak the plan without taking all the variables into account. You can't just take a given plan and add miles to it and call it a "better" plan. There are certain principles in training - stress and rest, super-compensation, different length cycles, cycles within cycles, etc. - all aimed at maximizing your body's response and making it stronger, faster, better at running. Adding to one component just gets that all out of whack - or it may anyway.

But, the fact is that sticking with a set program for 24, 18, 16, 12...whatever number of weeks, is always a challenge. Schedule conflicts, weather, injuries, illness, etc. seem to throw wrenches into the whole system just as things start clicking. So when things start to go all pear-shaped, what's a runner to do?

Often times it's not necessarily discipline that is the limiting factor. Most runners I know are fairly strong on the discipline side - and this can sometime cause problems itself, such as overtraining and injuries as we pigheadedly feel compelled to complete a run even when injured or exhausted because...HELLO!!! IT'S WRITTEN ON THE SCHEDULE!!. The issue is how do I adjust to these blips along the way?

A couple years ago I was following Pete Pfitzinger's plan in Advanced Marathoning. This plan is fairly demanding, with lots of fairly long runs during the week. Pfitzinger's attitude (and this he clearly states in the book) is that you really have to suck it up and commit to the program and work your life around your training, not work your training around your life. Okay. Fair enough. Commitment is important, but so is paying the mortgage and being there (at least occasionally) for your kid(s), and perhaps even your partner.

So, everything was ticking along and then I hit the proverbial training wall. I was lying in bed one night, facing a 12 mile run in the cold and snow during the 2 hour window I had from 9-11 while my daughter was in pre-school. I'd been doing this for several weeks at that point and now something snapped. I said to my husband, I just can't do this. I'm completely wiped out. Training, parenting, working...I hit my limit. And I gave up.

I slipped back to my tried and true approach, which I knew I could do, and I knew it would result in the same ho-hum results it had in the past. But what else could I do? At that time I didn't know how to fix the plan so that it could work for me. And so I threw out the baby with the bathwater.

Today I have a little more understanding and appreciation for how this all works. As a USATF, RRCA, and Lydiard Foundation Certified Running Coach I have more resources available to me. I read training books before bed for the fun of it. I can see all the mistakes I've made in the past. I understand that I will, no doubt, continue to make mistakes, because the fact is, this is all difficult business. If there was ONE way that ALWAYS worked for everyone, then we'd ALL be DOING IT! But alas. Life and running are not so simple. And if they were it would be boring.

So, out of a twisted curiosity, I decided to make myself a guinea pig of sorts and a couple months ago I embarked on my marathon training experiment: I decided to test the Lydiard Foundation's Running Wizard Training Program on myself. 

 A Lydiard based training program is based on five basic principles:
 
1) Aerobic Conditioning as the Foundation
2) Response-Regulated Adaptation
3) Feeling-Based Training
4) Sequential Development
5) Peaking/Timing

So how does all this work within a set, pre-planned, program? Well it works and it doesn't work - and this is the problem with all pre-set programs, though this program is, in my experience, far superior to other 'cookie-cutter' type programs because it provides multiple feedback mechanisms. Importantly, Lydiard based programs ALWAYS build on where you are presently at, what you've done in the past, and where you want to go, and helps in establishing realistic short and long term goals.

A couple weeks ago I finished with my "aerobic base" sequence and I felt super strong. Now I was set to begin my "Hill" sequence. Only one problem. I was dealing with an injury, and I am convinced that this was not caused by my running. One of the things I have to remind myself (and those I coach) is to be very careful about adding new stresses when you are already pushing things. I am not always good about listening to myself - and since I was feeling like gang-busters, I started pushing too many things at once - too much swimming, too much core work, too much stuff!! And I snapped. I felt this snap in an instant. I felt the straw that "broke" my back (in my case, my SI joint) as I placed it there. Butt-head, butt-head, butt-head...

So I put off the hill work for a week. THIS is Response-Regulated Training, as much as adjusting paces might be response-regulated training. I did not add insult to injury and stick with the workouts I was "supposed" to do.

This is the most difficult part about working with a set plan. Gaaaaaaaaaaa. My experiment is already messed up! And yet is it? Rarely do any of us make it from beginning to end of a training sequence without dealing with some major hiccups. So I guess now the challenge and experiment means seeing how it works even when everything doesn't work perfectly. I feel so strong coming out of my first sequence, and I am committed to this experiment. I won't throw the baby out with the bathwater this time.

Lydiard Based Running Wizard: How It All Began For Me

"There's no shortcut to the top..." ~ Arthur Lydiard

This story begins in May, 2012, when I attended an RRCA Coaching Certification Clinic in Denver. Now, there's lots and lots of running big-wigs residing along Colorado's front range, and I was lucky enough to be in class for 3 days with Lorraine Moller who was attending as a sort of expert in residence. Lorraine, originally from New Zealand, is a former runner with Aurthur Lydiard, Olympic Marathon bronze medalist in Barcelona (she ran in the first four women's Olympic marathons) and head of the Lydiard Foundation.

In class situations I'm pretty outspoken. I'm a college instructor, so I'm very comfortable debating and discussing contentious issues and theories. So there was a lot of debate going on during the class, and I found myself even questioning and challenging some of Lorraine's claims and assertions. But often I am more comfortable talking in groups than one on one. At the close of the course, I worked up the nerve to shyly introduce myself to Lorraine.

A month later I received an email from Lorraine inviting me to attend a Lydiard L1 & 2 Coach Certification Course being held in Boulder. I jumped at the chance to accept this fairly exclusive invitation.

And so began my relationship with Lorraine Moller and Aurthur Lydiard. I always found myself gravitating toward a Lydiard based system, but it wasn't really based on a solid grounding of what that meant except as it is often filtered through other coaches and the systems they develop, often incorporating aspect of Lydiard's principles. After taking the course and the exam, I realized that things are a lot more complicated than we often believe...and I still had a lot to (a lot I wanted/want to) learn about all of this.

After the New York City Marathon was cancelled, I floundered a bit. I had trained and tapered to race on November 4th. The soonest I could schedule a replacement marathon was December 9th in Tucson. Lorraine scheduled a get together for local Lydiard coaches about 3 weeks before I was to run Tucson. It was on a Friday, and I had every intention of doing a last 23 mile training run the next morning. I hadn't run a "long" run since pacing in Chicago in early October, so I felt I needed just one more before Tucson. I bounced this idea off of Lorraine.

Her response, "No. I don't want you running any more than 2 1/2 hours."

I gasped. I panicked. Dang it, dang it, dang it. Why did I ask her. I knew what she would say...hmmmm. Yes, I did know what she would say...But...What had I just done??? "But...but" I stammered "I haven't run anything over 16 miles in 6 weeks. I have to..."

She smiled, gently, knowingly, and said again "No more then 2 1/2 hours".

"But...", feeling a little desperate, grasping for some hope, "...I may run it fast, right??".

Again, her smile, "Nope. I want you to run a smell-the-roses pace." she replied in a bit of a sing-song tone.
Arggg. I pleaded, I groveled a bit, I bargained...to no avail. I really had no leg to stand on and I knew it.

The next day I ran a slightly too fast 17.3 miles in 2:34 - about as close as I could get to what I'd been asked to do. And then another taper began.

And when I lined up at the start in Tucson, I had not run anything over 17 miles since Oct 6th in Chicago. I thought this would be a problem, mentally, for me. But as the gun went off and we made our way down Mt. Lemmon and through the desert, that thought never entered my mind.

And I have never felt so good, so strong, so solid, so in charge, while running a marathon. By mile 20 I felt shockingly good, and my last 6 miles were the fastest I've ever run during a marathon. 

I was sold...But still, I have a skeptical nature...So I need more.

After that, I told Lorraine that I wanted to make myself a guinea pig of sorts, and use the Running Wizard program for my Boston training. Running Wizard is the fairly personalized running program offered through the Lydiard Foundation for anyone racing distances from 1500 meters through marathons. Now, this is tough for me, because as a coach myself, I have a hard time buying into any sort of  "cookie-cutter" plan. But I wanted to do it mostly to learn more about the principles (first hand and applied to myself) involved with a purely Lydiard based program. And so, after an insufficient downtime following Tucson, I embarked on my Running Wizard program.

Next, I will tell my story of the first phase of training...

"Train, don't strain..." ~ Arthur Lydiard

NYRR's Wrongheaded Resolution: A Letter to Mary Wittenberg

 

 "To know what is right and not do it is the worst cowardice." ~Confucius

These are the stated goals, the professed vision, of the New York Road Runners:

"We are driven by a singular vision. We believe that we can change the world through running. This is the dream and the promise that drives us. Running is our favorite sport but it's more than just that. It's also a route to bettering lives, building community, fueling positive social change—and enabling folks to have a whole lot of fun. Since our earliest days, our vision has allowed us to continuously move forward and to challenge the status quo so that we can grow as individuals, as a team, and as an organization."

Several weeks ago, after more than 7 weeks of deliberation and working through the details and options with their insurers, the New York Road Runners/ New York City Marathon announced their resolution to the issues surrounding the cancellation of the 2012 marathon.

Those who registered for and did not take the deferment option prior to the cancellation of the race, will now have a window of opportunity to choose one of the options below:

MARATHON RUNNERS
2012 Marathoners may choose one of the following options:

• Option #1 – Refund. While NYRR has always had a no-refund policy for the Marathon, given these extraordinary circumstances, we are offering runners who were entered in the 2012 Marathon, and were unable to run due to the cancellation ¹,  the opportunity to obtain a full refund of their 2012 Marathon entry fee (excluding the $11 processing fee);  OR
• Option #2 – Guaranteed entry to the ING New York City Marathon for 2013, 2014, or 2015. Entrants in the 2012 Marathon who choose this option will be granted guaranteed entry to the Marathon for the year they choose. Runners will be required to pay all processing and entry fees at the time of application (in the given year), with fees maintained at the same rate as those paid in 2012; OR
• Option #3 – Guaranteed entry to the NYC Half 2013. Entrants in the 2012 Marathon who choose this option will be granted guaranteed entry to the NYC Half 2013, to be run on March 17, 2013. Runners will be required to pay all processing and entry fees at the time of application. Availability will be limited.

My immediate response was critical - Yes, the refund option is obviously the right thing, but doing something half right does not make the whole deal a good one. Option 2 falls woefully short of what is fair and right. When I express my disappointment and disgust, many people respond: "What did you expect? Did you really expect that they wouldn't charge you again?" Well, as a matter of fact, yes! Many people claim that this is a fair and gracious offer. I beg to differ...

Here's why:

Michael Bloomberg and Mary Wittenberg invited us to their city to run. Had the marathon been canceled in a timely fashion, I might be more sympathetic. They got our travel dollars (airport taxes, hotel fees and taxes, rental car fees and taxes, food, etc...). I know...First World Problem...but I refuse to give them $11 + $255 + ANOTHER $255 for 2013.

I know people believe runners are rich, so this whole fiasco amounts to little more than a "first world problem" which when compared to the problems faced by many in this world is absolutely true. But I saved and planned for this race (and I was raising money to support the education of girls in Liberia and Pakistan), and I know and have heard from countless others who planned for years for this trip to run NYC, some coming from much farther away then I came. I haven't taken a vacation in 2+ years. I'm a college instructor and running coach. My husband is a college instructor and climbing coach. I made this investment because (as I've explained in other posts) I've wanted to run NYC since I was 16 years old. NYC is WHY I started racing again 4 years ago.

So there is the cost factor, but that is not what bugs me the most. What bug me the most is that agreements (a type of social contract) have been broken and violated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So here's what I wish I could say to Mary Wittenberg:

Dear Ms. Wittenberg,

         For some runners promises were made and those promises were broken. I ran a qualifying time to get into NY through the "guaranteed entry" option. This was not easy for me, and I dedicated the fall of 2011 to achieve this goal. But my guaranteed entry has never actually been honored, and for that reason I believe that the NYCM/NYRR has failed to hold up its end of the bargain. What about those who got in via the now discontinued policy, of applying 3 times in a row - if you don't get in during those 3 years you automatically get in on the 4th. Their guaranteed entry has also not been honored. Or those who did the 9+ program, running 9 NYRR races over the year and volunteering for 1. Those have not been honored either. We kept OUR part of the bargain, but the NYRR seems to have no problem ignoring your part in the agreement.

So what will I do? I will take the refund. I will not pay for a guaranteed entry that I already EARNED! I will not pay again for a race that was cancelled too late, under suspicious circumstances..

All those who traveled to NYC came in the spirit of support for NY and NJ. We were invited by the city and by you. In fact, had we deferred we would have been required to pay again for the chance to run. But we didn't defer. I came to run with my friends from NJ. They had no power. They had no gas. They lived in a disaster area, but they were still going to run. How could I not support them?? 

What will I do? Perhaps I will try to qualify again. What does that mean for me, well I'll need to run a 3:35 full marathon or a 1:40 half marathon. It will also mean that, other challenges I might wish to move on to will be postponed a bit. And I'm not sure I'm willing to make that sacrifice. I see no other way for me to do this. The easy way is to just cough up another $255. But that is not the right way. Perhaps there is no longer a 'right way'.

Unfortunately, this whole episode, and how you have chosen to handle this situation, has still left a very sour taste in my mouth about the NYCM. The decisions you made, I believe, are antithetical to the original aim of this race, and the vision of Fred Lebow. But it seems that the NYRR, and you, have lost the vision, and have become just another American capitalist enterprise.

I believe, that for many of us the NYCM will never regain it's stature as the greatest marathon in the world (thanks to this 'resolution'), as the peoples' marathon and the city's marathon. Perhaps you don't care. Perhaps you believe that this will all fade from memory. Perhaps, sadly, you are correct. But for this one runner, this one individual, the girl who stood in Central Park and watched with tears in her eyes and chills in her spine as Grete Waitz flashed by,  you have shattered something that can not be repaired. What a shame. What a terrible, terrible shame.

Sincerely,
Caolan MacMahon

Character is much easier kept than recovered.  ~ Thomas Paine

Reflections and Resolutions

 "Nothing can bring you peace but yourself" ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

So, I'm a bit behind the Resolution curve in the blogosphere, but I've been away, chewing on things...ruminating...fermenting...And as it turns out, finding some true resolution (shall I say 'healing') in New Jersey following the NYCM/Hurricane Sandy episode.

2012 was a year of some pretty extreme ups and downs, and I suppose I enjoy a roller coaster ride, but unlike on a roller coaster, where you can see what's coming and where it's going, life is not so apparent. 

Some stats on 2013: bear with me here...I'm doing this mostly for my own purpose: that of remembering.

Miles: In 2012 I ran around 2,493 miles. I say "around" because I always round down on my logging. If, for instance, my Garmin says I ran '5.15', I will log '5'. Only when it hits 5.2 do I log 5.2. Sometimes I run a little extra to tack on the extra .5 or .2, or whatever is necessary to reach that threshold and sometimes I don't.

Marathons: I ran six marathons in 2012. This was a bit of a fluke, and completely unplanned, but it worked for me. As I've said in the past I tend to favor quality over quantity, but at the end of it all I managed to pull off at least one decent effort (Tucson) and one mediocre effort (Fox Valley) - both of which turned out to be major learning experiences for different reason in my continuing education as a marathoner. Along the way I also became a Marathon Maniac, and managed salvaging a very disappointing and difficult late winter/spring. I learned a whole hell of a lot this year, and the learning did not come easy and was not always welcomed.

Shoes: I have absolutely no idea how many shoes I've run through this year. I want to estimate about 12-15, but that is because I had shoe/foot issues (still have, but they are being managed) throughout the year that caused me to experiment, a lot. The guys at Road Runner Sports hide when they see me walk through the door. Thank goodness for their return policy, though I have expected to see a "Wanted: For Return Policy Abuse" poster with my mug on it.

Races: 13 (14, unofficial). Some I raced, some were training runs, all of them taught me something I needed to learn.

Injuries: 3. I began the year (really started on Thanksgiving 2011) with Posterior Tibial Tendinitis/Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome, and enjoyed very painful, weekly needling sessions (in the soles of my feet) to get me to the starting line of Boston (Thank you, Heather North, at In Motion Rehab).

In February I suffered a concussion which, while not a 'running' injury, proved to be the scariest and most challenging injury I've had to deal with. This hit me right smack during peak Boston training, and I really did not feel that I was myself again until probably October or November. Now the constant threat of getting hit in the head again, and it's possible dire consequences (instant death, even for a seemingly harmless hit) keeps me ever aware of my surroundings in ways I've never had to be before. If I think about it, it scares me. So I try not to think about it.

Nebulous foot pain/numbness. This has and has not been resolved. It hit me hard at Brookings and Fox Valley, both around miles 15-16 and made for excruciating finishes. Sometimes it hits me and sometimes it doesn't. Still working to resolve that one...

Friends: The absolute highlight of my year has been the new and dear friends I've made thanks to running and the prudent use of the interwebs. I've had the opportunity to travel and run with new friends all over the country. They have come out to support me (BQ Number Two: With A Little Help From My Friends) and I have come out to support them  (http://www.chronicrunner.com/2012/10/the-threads-that-weave-through-life.html). This year allowed me to connect, intimately, with a much bigger and broader running community.

So that's where I've been...Now where shall I go...

The whole New York City Marathon fiasco initially cast a bit of a pall over the year for me. NYC meant more to me than any other marathon because of my history with that race, and the experience in NY/NJ was devastating. I know I tend to go overboard, emotionally, at times, and perhaps this was one of those times, but I was, honestly, crushed but that experience. I know it's just a stupid marathon, but for me it symbolized much more.  

A few weeks ago the NYRR/NYCM announced their "resolution" (much more on that in my next post) which, in my view, falls far short of what is right and fair. In so doing, they presented me with my challenge, my resolution if you will, for this year (perhaps next, depending on how things go).

But first a few thoughts about a recent trip back to New Jersey.

I didn't return to New Jersey on December 28th looking for healing or closure, or any such silliness. I went to see my family, and quite honestly, I was not at all happy to go. In some important ways my experience in November, in a place I once called home, left more than a bad taste in my mouth. I really wanted nothing to do with that place any more. I was done with it. Period. Good riddance. But I got on the plane and set off to do my duty.

And this is where running and friends make all the difference, for me...

I had the opportunity to hangout with my friend Esther, to swim and run a race in her town, and with her running club, the North Jersey Masters (they even let me run as a member for the day as part of a competition they have with another running club - We won ;) At that race I got to meet other runners, fb friends, people I had met in May at another race in NJ, and I felt at home. I felt that I was among my people...runners. Something happened while I was running that race. My bitterness over NY seemed to evaporate. I accepted, again, the place from which I came. 

 ~North Jersey Masters~

...After Athens sentences Socrates to death, he tells his students, who beg him to escape, that he must accept (though not agree with) the decisions of his city. He credits his city for making him the person he is, that he would not be 'Socrates' without Athens. As such he owes Athens something, for he would not be who he was without them...

I realized during this visit that I needed to make peace with my feeling about this place. I wanted to just put it aside, make it the past, turn my back, and never cast my eyes upon it again. But that's NOT actually what I needed.

And so, now I have my resolutions for 2013: 

I want to qualify, again, for the New York City Marathon. I do still want to run this marathon, but on my own terms.

I aim to surround myself, as much as possible, with the people who are uplifting, supportive, and life affirming, and to return that to others.

"Really great people make you feel that you, too, can become great" ~ Mark Twain

End of Year Funk and Downtime Blues

“A boo is a lot louder than a cheer.”  ~Lance Armstrong

1:58 a.m...my eyes pop open...and it's off - the mind races...but this time my mind was ready to put to right what I've been tormented over for the past few days.

A couple days ago, for no apparent reason, the thought of pulling the plug on this blog popped into my head. I don't know where it came from, and I didn't even see it coming...but there it was, screaming at me. I made the mistake of Tweeting this thought...and the results were not exactly, well, uplifting or encouraging...Though they were pretty much what I expected.

But let me backtrack for a moment...What's the real reason behind this...

First, I've been writing this blog for almost 2 years. I had no goals with it when I started. It was for me, and in fact, I started freaking out when I saw it getting hits. Ewwww. Strangers are looking at this. This was initially a very uncomfortable feeling for someone who has always written, has always loved to write, but has never allowed ANYONE to read anything she's written. I had the pseudonym for a reason, and initially my real name appeared nowhere...And then I relaxed a bit.

But now, 2 years later, I find myself wondering "What's the point?" "Who really cares (besides me, which was the whole point)?" And I tell myself...this doesn't matter. No one cares one way or the other...and suddenly that mattered in a toxic, soul-killing way. There are, after all, gobs of running blogs out there that are wildly popular. They have thousands of followers and readers, and I shake my head wondering what I'm doing wrong because I don't find (some of) them particularly interesting (Yeah. I know I'm biased - and that sounds like sour grapes!). The thought occurred to me that 2 years, perhaps, is enough for this silliness. Time to grow up and face facts.

And this sent me off into a pit of sadness...

Add to that the fact that I have given myself a forced 2 weeks of very easy and minimal running following a long fall season, and you've got a very anxious, antsy runner...post marathon(s)...an enforced downtime which never settles well, holiday madness, an ailing mother (yeah, I'm not going to go into that), a myriad of other stresses and demands, and the result is a total mess of whirling emotions...because that's the way I am. Post race depression is a common, though little discussed, phenomena among runners.

And so I stupidly "put it all out there" and got what I thought I deserved.

Think about the times you really want to do something scary - that is, scary for you: Run your first 5k...your first half...your first marathon...try to qualify for Boston...And you gather the necessary courage, say it out load, and someone snorts in response. You will hear those snorts of disbelief banging, like a drum, in your head. The high-fives and encouragement will be drowned out by the cacophony of one negative comment. How does that feel? I'm sure we have all experienced that at some point, and it can make you feel foolish - Unless, of course, you are blessed with a large and healthy ego, which I am not, and then you let the negatives float off into the void.

Jean-Paul Sartre convincingly argues that we tend to ask questions of those who we believe will give us the answers we already know are in our hearts - but we look to someone else as an excuse, an out, a way to avoid our own absolute freedom and responsibility.

But the instant I pressed 'enter' I knew it was a mistake.

Silence speaks volumes, and the responses from many friends and self-professed supporters (and I never asked for this, it was offered) was utter silence. From others who did speak up, the suggestion was that maybe this little experiment no longer served me. Maybe I should just let it die on it's own. All of this was well meaning...but it was not what I wanted. I, of course, wanted others to scream at me "No! Don't do it". But that never came, and so I began to morn the death of this little creation.

Then at 1:58 a.m. I woke and a name popped into my head: Carolina.

Carolina...holding a beer, before noon...I'm on the left (yes, holding a cigarette!)

Carolina is one of my dearest friends. We've been friends for 30+ years. I've written about her here many times. Right now we live far away from each other and we are not in constant contact, in fact we've "lost" each other from time to time over the years. But the fact is that we are joined in a way that distance and time, and death, can never separate us. I know she's always there.

Wells College Swim team...I'm front left. Carolina is directly behind me

She reads this blog, I know that because she always fires off a word or two via e-mail (she's not on facebook and doesn't do social media - smart move) JUST when I need it. The emails appear in my inbox at the exact time I need them.

Leading up to Boston, 2012, worried about the weather, worried about the fuss-and-bother, and blogging ad nauseam on all of that, her message was:
"Now just enjoy all of this, even the hours of hotel searching, because, seriously, this is all really cool and extra-ordinary.

It deserves all of the fuss.

Embrace it!

I am following this with great excitement!

Love you!"

Two days before Boston, after deciding not to defer, this was in my inbox:
"Good luck! Good luck! Will be thinking of you on Monday..:)))"

And after Boston, which didn't exactly go well, I hemmed-and-hawed over whether to try for another marathon 4 weeks later...her message was:
"Do it, you weirdo."

After qualifying for Boston again at the Fox Valley Marathon I received:
"Yay!!!

Congratulations!!

So Very Cool!

:)"

And now, after Tucson:

"You rock. And are amazing. And are a weirdo. :)

Much Love."

And in many ways we keep in touch through this silly little blog.

So, it occurred to me that while I may not reach many, those I do matter to me. I realize that I can't allow my self-worth to hinge on the acceptance of others - but as human beings we all do have a need to reach out and connect with others. This is one of the ways I enjoy doing that.

And so I will keep at it...for another year anyway...

“A friend is one to whom one may pour out the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that gentle hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.”~ George Eliot

Epilogue: My Inbox today, Dec 21, the end times...:
"Ok so I'm reading your blog post, thinking "No! Don't give up the blog because this is how I keep up with you! Don't do it!"

Then I get a little further . . . 

then I got goosebumps.

I guess we really are linked at the metaphorical hip.

Hang in there.

Much love. As always."

With Every Race There Are Lessons To Be Learned...But You Must Listen

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

I'm woken by a cramp in my right calf that wants to rip my gastrocnemius tendon from the bone. I jump out of bed and limp around the bedroom until it finally releases, but a residual tightness lingers. I haven't noticed (or registered) that this has been happening all week - my calves...the arches of my feet...cramping. This is not normal, and I've dismissed these anomalous events without much notice. That is a mistake.

A couple hours later I'm in the car heading to Denver International Airport on route to Tucson for my 6th marathon of the year, and my final race for the year. I turn off of E470, go to accelerate the car onto the highway and my shin muscle tightens into a knot. My foot is stuck at a 90 degree angle and will not go down. I press my heel down on the accelerator and rub my shin until it releases. I pull into the Pikes Peak parking lot, find an empty space barely missing the next car as I angle in and the shin cramps up again. I jerk to a stop, and sit there for a moment trying to collect my thoughts. What the heck is going on, I wonder. I pull up the parking break, get out of the car and both legs, from the knees down, tighten up into a knot of anxiety. I feel completely out of it. "Crap. What the hell is going on?" I say out loud to no one. What am I doing going off to run a marathon when I'm feeling like this? I get on the shuttle to the terminal and eat a banana...drink some water...swallow an Endurolyte...My calves feel like they have Mexican jumping beans zinging around under my skin. Every muscle flex results in a gripping cramp.

...And I doggedly push on with the plan.

On the plane the flight attendants hand me cans of water, stashed in their pockets, every time they walk by. I eat another banana...drink more water...and tomato juice...

Drink...eat...drink...eat...drink...eat. I am sooooo tired of drinking and eating.

We land in Tucson. It's hot and dry. This is the dessert after all. Chollas, and yuccas and cacti dot the barren, windswept, landscape. I am still out of it. I get my rental car and I try to get my bearings. In Boulder the mountains run north/south, but in Tucson there is no rhyme nor reason to be found in the mountains that ring the valley. Eventually I find my way to I10 and then to my hotel.

...Drink and eat and drink and eat...

So goes the rest on the day...and the evening...as I frantically message my PT, Heather. Her advice is to do what I've been doing. She tries to reassure me that all will be well. All I envision is being stranded on Mt. Lemmon with seized up calves. This is something I've never experienced. I don't know what to expect, and it's difficult not to expect the worst. I try to distract myself with facebook, messaging with Sandra, who also reassures me that all will be well and I've got what it takes...and a 'Big Bang Theory' marathon...I joke that my legs just really want to run...but I'm very worried. Very very worried.

I wake before the alarm at 3:55 a.m. The sparks are still firing fast and furious beneath the skin of my calves. I drink some coffee, eat a Marathon Bar, take a shower, decide what to wear, pack up my stuff and head for the shuttle parking. It's 5:20 as I climb onto to the frigid yellow school bus. It's pitch black out.

It takes close to 45 minutes to reach the start a couple thousand feet up Mt. Lemmon. We're dropped off in the middle of nowhere, amongst the cacti and scorpions and gila monsters and javelinas...Luckily, dessert creatures are quite shy, because they tend to be fairly fierce.

 
Lights flood the start area, but all around is mysterious darkness.

The gun goes off and we head off toward the rising sun. I am completely fixated on my calves...how are they feeling...what's going on down there...and I'm taking it very very easy. This course is a net downhill, but the fact is that it is not an easy course. There's lots of uphill and rolling sections. Each mile ticks by. So far so good. I feel good. Really good, but I don't trust it - not in the least.

As we turn onto the highway, around mile 14, heading for Tucson the headwind picks up, blowing the mile marker signs down. It's not terrible, but it's there. I'm praying that it won't pick up. And the miles continue to pass...and I still feel really good. By mile 20, having felt no weirdness in my calves, I decide to push it. For the next 6 miles I feel stronger than I've ever felt at the end of a marathon. I've cut my pace by about a minute a mile and feel stronger with each passing mile.

And as I make the final turn towards the finish line I push with all I have, and cross in 3:48:16. I'm happy because this went so much better than I anticipated...and yet there is this little voice in my head..."My god! You have so much left!! Ugggg!!!"

And how many times do we hold back in life, afraid about what could happen? How many times do we play it safe and then wonder what if...?

Now, don't get me wrong here. I am very happy with this race. But, here's what I realized: I've mentioned before that I've been in search of that race that feels easy - where everything falls into place and you just do what you can do, what you know to do. I felt this running the Colorado Marathon in 2011 - and I've longed, thirsted, for it ever since. And here it was...and I am left feel that...well...I could have done better! Talk about nothing making you happy!!! I just set a master's PR, got another BQ, and all I can think is that I could have done better.

So, what did I learn? 

First, don't ignore things the week before a marathon. Of course there's the usual taper madness and aches and pains that come with tapering, but cramps are different. I should have been paying better attention and taken better care of myself.

Second, don't awfullize about things you can't control. Easier said than done, but at least I now have the experience of having something completely new happening the day before a marathon and it still turned out alright. If that happens again perhaps I won't be such wreck. Or, maybe I will...

Third, and most importantly, I learned that I'm not really after that easy race, I'm after that hard effort that succeeds beyond my wildest dreams. I want to feel good at the end of a marathon, but not good in the sense of having anything left to give. That's a difficult thing to put your finger on, but that's what I want.

Will I even know when/if it happens?? I don't know. I guess that's why I keep doing this stuff...