Winning at Life and being a Galactic Badass

A Mother Runner’s Guide to Winning at Life and being a Galactic Badass

Aka

Sh*t I just came up with on the fly.

I was chatting with another working mom the other day and she asked my opinion on training for a fall marathon.  She has twin babies, a job, a husband, and all the responsibilities that go with the above.  Oh, and most importantly, before kids she was a badass mother runner of marathons.

So what did I tell her?

You grew a human being out of two cells; you can f*cking do anything you want in life. Including train for and run a marathon while being the proud owner of babies, a job, a husband, and all that rot. Avoid putting limits on what you can do. The example you will set for your children when you do this is extraordinary. I speak from experience. My kids are a trio of galactic badasses.

When you start drinking alone before the sun comes up, people worry; this will also apply to running. Get used to it. If you’re going to do a fall marathon and juggle life, it’s going to take some pre-dawn running.

Respect the distance. You didn't grow the baby in three weeks. Your fitness isn't going to return in three weeks. Savor the work you put in, and on the days that suck, on the days where if feels like you will never get there from here, look at that hard work and see how far you've come.

Your stroller is a rolling sag wagon. Use this fact to bribe or beg your friends to run with you. You can carry the water, gu, babies, snacks, TV, kitchen sink, and extra body glide. The best way to run with a BOB is to have buddies who have no strollers of their own who are wiling to share your load. Consider it a public service to your friends. Their training will be greatly improved by the resistance. It’s like running on hills... all the fecking time. Amiright?  With additional help pushing, the over all pace of the group will be faster, and everyone will be happier, including the babies.

Face it; you’re not the only one. Moms run. They train. There is a community of support out there.  Find your people. Maybe you need physical runners to join you – great – find a running club and join a group run. Perhaps you thrive in an online community of thousands of women who support each other. Perfect, find the Another Mother Runner Facebook group. Just whatever you do, find your people.

You will never be good enough. You will always work harder than you ever worked before babies, because you will always be striving for better and more. Maybe this is because you have these babies that you want to instill your values into, or maybe this is just because mothers are all pretty badass, but whatever it is, your standards for yourself will be different from now on. Goals that seemed impossible before will be broken, and rewritten to reflect new “unreachable” goals. You’ll realize that it never gets easier, you just get faster.  Or stronger. Or more.

~savor the run~

Another Freaking bestdayEVER

Everything is easier when you are happy.

Whether it's losing weight, pushing through the hard 20 miles on the back of a 50 mile bike ride, running further than you've run in this training cycle... Everything is easier when you're happy.

It is easier to forgive myself for yesterday's mistakes, or embracing tomorrow's adventures... both are lightened by the lightness I feel in my heart.

Yes, sad things happen, and in those moments it's odd... I guess I still feel happy at my core. Even when tears are falling, there isn't a hopelessness blanketed over me.

What I've learned this week... month... the last 12 months... is that when I am happy with myself I am able to forgive myself. I am able to capture today as the most important day, to live with joy, to savor the run...

I'm able to respect the distance and appreciate how FREAKING FAR I've come.

I remember what it means to live with the FISH philosophy.  I remember that it's easy to make someone else's day when you wake up and feel that your day is made. It's a pleasant experience to look around and think, if today was "it" and I never had anything else, I could be happy with "this".

There are no "if only" regrets clogging my heart today because today is the bestdayever.

And that probably makes me a really f*cking irritating companion to hang with...

But that's Okay too.

~ respect the distance ~

The Things We Do

Without going into too much detail, The Good Dr had a Bad Cycling Weekend two weekends ago.  It just wasn't his day.  We all know what that's about.  Anyone who's ever participated in an athletic event knows that there are those days that just aren't your day.  It doesn't mean you are less than amazing, it just means you may have had a less than amazing day.

So when The Good Dr was beat up by his bike, I suggested that he do something completely crazy like go for a bike ride to shake it off.

True story.

Not only that, I suggested he go for a nice reasonable distance like 100 miles.  "No problem, you've got this".  Ride from Richmond to Williamsburg and back.

sure.

Now, the ironic thing about this is that I convinced him that this was a good idea because I said I would go with him all the way.  For the whole 100 miles.

Never mind that I had only ridden a season long ride of 57 miles, and that I was possibly not trained enough to ride 100 miles.

about 1/2 way and we were still having FUN with "Fran",
"Whit", "Bueller? Bueller?" and "Birch".

Thus became the day that I decided to answer the question of "How much training does a person need to ride a Century?" and also, "Where does 'mental toughness vs the wall' reach the point of futility?"

It was a stellar day on Saturday.  Beautiful weather - overcast and warm, but not blistering hot.

We connected with some folks and knocked out a seriously fun 56 or so miles complete with laughs, rest stops, donuts and blue sports drink.

Around 57ish or so, a piece of lawn debris flew off a mower and got in my eye, so I was riding with one eye ball squeezed shut.

My (cough) *valentine* hurt. My eye hurt.  My leg was cramping.  My stomach was rolling.  I had chills and goosebumps.

It was as though the WHEELS FELL OFF THE WAGON.

I realized that I was DOWN on liquid.

Physically my body was trying to SHUT DOWN, and my mind was TOTALLY ON BOARD with that idea, it was the best idea I had EVER HAD, and if I kept riding, my brain kept insisting that BAD THINGS WOULD HAPPEN.

I had to stop and pour water in my eye at the next rest stop until the piece of debris was out (it was a piece of a leaf - OUCH).  When that was resolved, I sat down and sipped on some blue liquid and took inventory.

It's 106 miles to Chicago.... We've got a full a tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we are wearing sunglasses". 

My options...

I could lay down in the dirt and take a nap.

I could ride about 12mph for about 9 miles to the next rest stop and see if I sipped liquid the whole way if that would return me to homeostasis.

Or I could sit on my a** and rest for about 15-20 minutes and see if sipping on blue liquid would return me to homeostasis.

Hit it.

I said to Scott, "I have this friend who did a tri a few years ago, and even when she was falling apart, she just kept going.  I'm going to need to Dash from here to the next water stop.  If I'm still completely in bad shape, I will consider getting a ride back on the SAG wagon."

I hopped on my bike (read: awkwardly crawled onto the bike while praying that no one was looking)
Took yet another salt tablet.
Ate a GU even thought I didn't want to.
And pedaled.

I knew in order to finish this event in time, I was going to need to PULL THIS TOGETHER.  And, there were forecast thunderstorms coming.  We were going to need to race the weather.  Only I couldn't make my legs move.

The storms over Rocketts Landing

It was MIND OVER MATTER.

So, I Dash'd to the next stop.  And it wasn't speedy, but it was functional.  We rolled about 14mph.

It was a long 9 miles.  But I sipped the entire way.  In all, about 40 oz of salted sugar water (honest to god, that's what the blue stuff started tasting like) in those short miles.

At the next stop, I really did suddenly feel better.  "OK, I'm ready".

We Finished!

We hopped out on the road.  It wasn't blistering.  The Good Dr was patient and pulled me or let me pull as needed.


A pace line came up beside us, and as the last cyclist was parallel to me, I geared up and stepped on the pace.  A few minutes later, we were cruising around 18mph with a group.

I just thought, "I need to borrow some of their energy for a few minutes".  And that's what we did.

At the next stop we refilled our bottles quickly, and jumped on a line with a few more strangers.  And cruised back to our car, riding the last few alone.

It was nice, honestly, to ride those last few miles with The Good Dr.

He was strong, and I knew he didn't regret riding 100 miles.  I could tell.

The Celebratory Dinner

After we finished and snacked, a HUGE thunderstorm was eminent on the horizon, so we went home, showered, and went to a "Nursing School is Finally Finished and I rode 100 miles today on my Bike" Celebratory Dinner.

I'd do Cap to Cap next year.  The course was 100 times more wonderful than the Tour De Richmond course, and all in all, it was a great time... except for the part where I wanted to take a dirt nap, but those are the details we tend to forget as soon as the event is over.

~savor the ride, respect the distance~

The Wall

"It is always cold on the Wall."

"You think so?"

"I know so, my lady."

"Then you know nothing, Jon Snow," she whispered.

― George R.R. Martin, A Dance With Dragons

This semester in Nursing School I was reminded that I am Jon Snow.  I know nothing tangible, except that The Wall is out there, somewhere. When winter gets here, I want to be on the correct side of the wall.

Any Marathoner finisher knows that the wall is in your head, and if you believe that you can get to the other side, you will succeed at finishing the event.

But the wall that knocked me to my knees recently is not the mental and physical exhaustion that goes with running for 4 hours. I hit The Wall about 25% of the way through my semester, and I hit it hard. I had a moment that I haven’t had in a long time, and I questioned whether or not I am smart enough to do what I’m doing.

Plenty of people graduate from nursing school every year... but a heck of a lot more than that START nursing school every year.  In fact, looking around the trenches at my fellow soldiers, and reflecting back on the fallen many in my class, I realize we have lost about 40% of those who started with us.

100% of those people had good grades at some point in their lives. Like me, they worked hard to get into school.  Like me, those folks took and passed classes before Nursing School that were prerequisite level classes intended to weed out the unworthy.

I typically compare the Nursing School experience to a marathon training plan.  The long miles getting ready for the big day wear you down physically and mentally, and on the particularly tough days you wonder - Why am I doing this? And, Will the end ever come? Or even, Should I be here?

So two weeks ago on Monday, I hit the wall when I failed a few assignments that I was well prepared for, which scared me. If I don’t study and fail, I deserve to fail. If I study until my eye twitches, I figure, it’s a problem with my brain....  And it wasn’t one thing, it was multiple assignments in different classes.

I sat in front of that wall and looked at it’s 700 feet of un-scalable ice covered rock and I began to cry. I tucked myself into a corner and sobbed until my throat was raw and my tinny voice sounded like that of a stranger. I let the tears flow until no more came.  

And I then I blew my nose, washed my face, gathered my tattered self-esteem around me like a flimsy cloak, and I stood in the shadow of the wall.  I tried to tell myself “I am McGyver. I have a cloak, some books, and a Smart Phone. I can climb, tunnel through or fly over this wall. I can.”

It was at this point that I tried to go have a thoughtful conversation with someone important to my academic success... and as I attempted to push words past a growing lump in my throat, I knew there was no hope for me... and I cried some more.

I wanted to quit.

I desperately wanted to lie down in the dirt and sleep for a week and see what happened if I checked out of my world. Because maybe the wall would melt in a week's time, or another student could pull the wall down, or... something...

Of course that is NOT what I did.

I gathered the others on the wrong side of the wall and we began to formulate a plan. We made lists and charts. Bit by bit, we scaled the wall using the will and ingenuity of the students in the group. Shared energy led to success, and shared success led to energy. 

Phone calls were made. Homework was finished. Dogs were walked. Breakfast was eaten. 

Above all else, the flames of panic were smothered under the wet blanket of determination.

Today is Friday. The first week of midterms are done, and there are more to come next week. But, I’m not feeling worry about that right now.

The view from the top of this wall is not so bad. I’ve made it here, and I can see the finish. All I need to do is just keep going (TWSS).

Yesterday’s failure is in the past sitting beside Yesterday’s accomplishment. I can’t dwell on the success or the failure; I must focus on the now and do what needs to be done today to prepare for the next test.  Worrying about tomorrow’s difficulty is a waste of energy.

Today I will enjoy the view, because today is the day that matters. 

The Affair

It's hard when you first realize it.
The lack of presence.
That feeling that the magic is gone from the relationship.
And the knowledge that there is happiness between others where there had once been happiness at home.

I can't really blame anyone though. I was laid up in bed for freaking weeks. WEEKS.

And when I wasn't in bed, I was at school.

or coughing.

or coughing at school.

It was hard for me this spring, watching the secret smiles exchanged when no one was looking. Hearing the gasps and giggles, among other breathless noises that made my mind race. The time spent apart grew longer and longer and I found myself wondering, "how in the world is this happening to me?" and "will it ever go back to the way it was?"

I'm not sure when it started, and and I don't really have proof, but I'm pretty sure my Mojo was having an affair with another runner for the entire pre-season.

"Damn that Mojo! For breaking my heart like this!" I ranted and raved!

I crawled out of bed and got in the pool where I dragged myself through the paces. I felt like a fish out of water, only I wasn't. I was a lame swimmer with a bum leg. And Mojo doesn't have time for that. "Aint nobody got time for that".
I hit up a spin class to regain the stamina, thinking, "if I am fit, Mojo will want to come sweat with me." But it didn't work. Mojo likes the outdoors and sunshine.

Eventually I got on my bike. I struggled and cried my way through the lonely miles while the wind snatched my breath from parted lips. I finished each ride gasping and sad, mourning for my Mojo.

Mojo was clearly out running a Marathon.
Mojo had obviously headed out to a rainy Triathlon.
Mojo showed no signs of returning to me in a timely fashion.

I missed my Mojo but I wasn't going to sit at home and lament the loss. I hit the streets and searched for ways to get my Mojo back.

I saw Doctors and Dietitians and Chiropractors and Therapists ... ok, technically she was a massage therapist.  I sought the advice of coaches and coaches and coaches. And more coaches.  They all assured me, if I kept up the work, my Mojo would come back to me.

And so about a week ago I had THE BEST RIDE EVER. It was the easiest 33 miles I have ever done. It was the hardest 33 miles I have ever done. I finished feeling accomplished and spent. But I knew I could do it. I hardly dared look, but it became clear to me by about mile 20 that my mojo had returned. At least for a day.

And then on Saturday, again. Mojo was with me on the ride. Right there, where I could almost taste our shared energy! The thirty miles melted under my tires.

Today... again. My Mojo showed up at 5 this morning. We nodded to each other as I checked my tires and snapped my helmet into place. From the beginning of the ride, we were together. We laid out 16 miles before the rest of the world was awake. It was freaking brilliant.

It seems Mojo has come back to me, though I'm hardly celebrating a permanent return.

We've entered an uneasy truce. And while I'm hopeful Mojo will stick around for a few more rides, I know Mojo could leave again without a moment's notice.

~enjoy the ride~

Galactically Bada** Running

Are you Galactically BadA**?  

Want to show off your "team spirit" in a family friendly way?  

I have a limited number of these:

4X4 sticker's available for purchase.

Let me stress again, there is a limited number available.

$5 for Orange, $6 for Pink (because yes, the pink really were more expensive to make).  Any proceeds (not a WHOLE lot of over head) go to Colleen's Autism 5K fund raising efforts.

One Mile

I am sorry, I hate this time of year.  I hate that we all spend all this time writing down our "goals"...  it's insanity.  I decided on 12/28/11 that I would just start my 2012 "goals" right then.

Why wait?

I have some goals.  They're SMART.  Specific, measurable, a...something that starts with a, r... something that starts with r, and time specific.  OK, clearly they're not that smart.

They're not that interesting though.  And they're not that relevant to everyone else in the world today.  However, on my 2012 list is my new mantra.


I love having a mantra.

I love Respect The Distance so much that I'm considering getting it tattoo'd on my body.  Because it really doesn't matter how far you're running, or if you're running at all.  Are you in school?  Motherhood?  A sucktastic beige minivan?  Are you racing a marathon?  Are you racing a 4m run in 100 degree heat and 80% humidity ~  damn straight you better respect that distance.  13.1?  50K?  5K?  Every distance deserves respect, no matter how short or long, real or imagined.  The day you don't respect the distance is the day you will fall on your face.  I could share a story here, but I'm not going to....(shudder).

Galactically Bada** became my mantra at mile 23.5 of a marathon.  I said it once, and it instantly became my mantra for the rest of the year, and the rest of the year after that one.  Some things just stick.

Don't tackle the red shirts is one of those things that wasn't funny at all, until one day it was hilarious.


So while the rest of the world is worrying about what goals they will lay down for 2012, how they'll achieve them, what they'll do to make the year's worth of goals attainable, etc.  I've decided to just try a new mantra.

Take it one mile at a time.

Whether it's nursing school, foot pain, training plans, core workouts, drills, cleaning my house, choosing healthy foods, or actually running a mile, my goal is to try not to get caught up too much in what lies before me, or what's left behind me, and instead to just worry about the moment I'm in.

~savor the run~

An Open Letter to my 10K PR

Dear 10K PR,

I know, you're feeling neglected.  The last time I talked about you in a positive way was March of 2010.  And it wasn't even a big brag.  It was a "1 second PR because the Witch Dr said I wasn't allowed to run faster than that."

Most of the time I start out with, "10K PR is kinda old...", or, "well, 10K PR is 54:54, but I haven't run one in a while....".  I'm sorry for that 10K PR.  I really am.

It's not that I love 8K PR more than I love you.

Ukrop's Monument Avenue 10K
Fast, flat, fun... come run it with me!

It's just... that... I love 8K PR more than I love you.

You're a little long in the tooth.  (gasp)

And that's fixable.  I know exactly what I need to do.  I have a race all picked out.  I need to train for a race specific goal.  I need to let the long slow distances of the marathon go for a while and focus on shorter distances.

Not because they're easier.

They're not.  Truly, each race holds its own challenges.  A marathon is freaking hard.  Well, someone's going to have a stroke when I say this but, in my opinion, a 5K deserves respect too.  And as such, so does a 10K.  So from now until April I'm going to focus on you 10K PR.  Because you deserve my attention.

You are worthy.

I know what needs to be done.  And I know where my weakness lies.  Accountability with speed work.  So knowing this, I signed up for the A10K training team with RRRC.

I remember when all I wanted was to finish a 10K without dying.
(hey, some goals are loftier than others)
I remember when all I wanted was to finish a 10K in less than an hour.
(and not have my running partner go into labor on the course)
I remember when all I wanted was to finish a 10K in less than 55 minutes.
(and finished that race in 54:54)
....today. All I want is to just run as hard and well as I can at the 10K distance.
(Well that's a little vague).  

10K PR, you and me, we're going places together.

regards,
gba_gf

Respect the Distance

I love The Half Marathon distance 13.1 Mile Races.

It’s a great distance. Long enough to be strategic, and short enough that if I screw up I’m not screwed.


They are respectable. I kinda wish they’d re-name them. Instead of Half Marathons, which sounds suspiciously like only “half” a race, I wish they’d call them 13.1 milers. Like, a 10Mile Race. It’s straight forward. And no one calls it Half a race. Even a 5K isn’t a Half10K, right?

Or perhaps 13.1 mile race would be better reflected in Kilometers… like, let’s just call it a 21K. Hey Jon, what do you think of that? Sportsbackers could just re-name it: The SunTrust Richmond Marathon, featuring the McDonalds 21K and Ntelos 8K.

Of course, then all us “stupid americans” would walk around wondering how long our race is today. (oh oh, wait, how many people here have had someone ask them how long a marathon is? Yup. A 15k? Yup… how about, How long is The Surf & Santa 10Miler??? Me! ME ME ME ME!!  True story...)

Seriously though, the Half Marathon isn’t Half of anything. It’s a solid distance. What kind of half sane or half crazy person thinks that this is a good idea? “I think I’ll go out and run as hard as I can possibly run for 13.1 miles". It takes training and strategy.

So why all this today? I’m training for a Full Marathon, and have no races lined up and scheduled from now until… well, November 12th.  Shouldn't I have been on this High Horse a few months ago when I was Half Crazy?

I’m writing this in response to a runner who said to me recently, and I quote, “Well…. I’m only doing the Half, this year”.

I’m… only? Shut the front door, did you just say, “only?”

I hate that. I hate when someone belittles their effort because they feel that as a runner who’s training for a marathon, I’m not going to respect their efforts. Seriously? What kind of jerk do I look like? I have some friends who will be tempted to answer that… resist.the.urge.

Please don’t apologize for coming to a training run at 5am.

Please don’t dis your training.
Please don’t belittle your effort.

You had my respect as we were laying down a 6 solid miles at a sub 9 that morning, because ~ yeah~ I’ll say it and risk the wrath of the blogesphere:  You’re a runner who knows when you have time to give a marathon your attention, and when you don’t.

As a “marathoner”, there is NOTHING that irks me more than a runner who claims to be training for a 26.2 mile race, but then doesn’t give the TIME it takes to get there. This isn’t something you just wake up one day and say, “Oh I think I’ll run a marathon in 16 weeks” and then expect it to happen.

People, this takes more dedication than you could possibly realize. This takes hours of your week. 8+ hours for some, plus ice baths, plus cross training, plus… you still have to be functional for your kids, school, work, Irish Step Dance, and then some.

So to the person who chooses the Half because they know their limitations, my hat is off to you.

And to the person who says, “I'm training for a full... but I only ran the long runs because I didn’t have time to do any running during the week” I say, I know you might be a marathoner, but I’m not feeling a whole lot of respect for you right now.

Of course, I could just be tired and cranky today...  I've been up since 4.

~Savor the Run~