Zipping On

Again…. finding it hard to keep up on the blog. Used to be such a prolific writer. Total diarrhea of the mouth/keyboard. Blah blah blah. But...

I've been working really hard on multitasking and maintaining balance, while progressing as a runner and athlete. I want to prove to myself that this ol' girl has the ability, the CAPABILITY, to get my goals accomplished. But not fall off the deep end. The abyss.

I started the week off where I wanted to be. My pace is trickling down, increment by increment. I have to credit Ryan's plan and the cooler weather. And maybe a little bit of mental toughness. Every once in a while I have faith and gumption and see it through. I ran hard on Monday and Tuesday.

In the middle of the week I was tagged on Instagram by a complete stranger. A yogini who obviously looks at my posts. She just said: "For you beautiful mamas out there."

At that very moment, I could have cried. It was just powerful. We need to hear these words every once in a while. We're all striving for something, and how we go about finding whatever that is, is different. But at the core we are the same. We need to take a breath and be calm and let go of all of the burdens that keep us from moving forward.

Later that evening the moon in the clouds gave us a beautiful nighttime sky that filled my child-like heart with wonder.

Off to a 200 mile relay in North Carolina… my first real running event in months.

Get It Done.

"Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can."
-Arthur Ashe

Probably one of my favorite quotes. It's beautiful because so many of us feel like we're starting from ground zero and the uphill climb is just so hard. We want to be at the summit, want to be see the view from the pinnacle… want to be there in the dream already. We all start somewhere and the hardest part is that first step and accepting where we are in the journey. There is a balance between angry determination to be better, and throwing some serious self-love your way for the progress you've already made.

I love watching people be so proud of themselves. It put a huge smile on my face to see them succeed. It starts with a small thing. I want to run a mile. It seems impossible, it seems so hard. But you keep putting one foot in front of the other, and in time (with patience and a good attitude) that mile becomes twenty six point two. Or even more.

It's amazing.

What's even better is somewhere along the journey you start to realize that it doesn't always have to be about you. You let go of the ego a little bit, because a wonderful reward lies with witnessing the successes of people around you. And I'm finding more and more joy from seeing people I know get better and feel good.

Today I met my friend Jim for a 10 mile trail run. He's in his sixties and he is going to be an ironman, AGAIN, in two weeks. I want to cry when I think about him… almost the same age as my father, and he has the spirit of a twenty year old. He throws down these open water swims, bike rides, and runs with a great attitude and positive spirit. He is realistic, and yet he's just so optimistic. He feels GOOD and PROUD. I am grateful to be around him, and consider him a teacher. I need to learn to be dedicated, disciplined, and yet be HAPPY and CONTENT with where I am. Life is good. And it's too short to continually be disappointed when things aren't always perfect.

We can start from anywhere. As long as we believe, are dedicated, and are determined to make it, it can be done.

Also glad to see several of the NMA running group embers getting PR's today in their races. It was just a perfect day weather wise.

A beautiful sunrise on the oceanfront:

Golden morning.

Carpe diem.

Ad so, another week is finished. I always feel like Monday is another opportunity to start fresh and make up for anything lost in the previous week.

I emailed my coach. I told him that I need a little more in terms of feedback and motivation. I love to help others and see them succeed but I'd really like some help too.

Looking forward to the relay this weekend.

Break of Day

"Elevate your inside game. A negative attitude is below the horizon… a place for lonesome hearts."
- T. F. Hodge

This week my goal was simple. To get back on track, stick to the plan, and keep a good attitude intact. It's amazing what a mental adjustment can do for your physical performance.

I got a boost on Sunday reconnecting with my former running buddy Shelly… I had an epiphany after our 10 miler and realized that as much as I want to prove I have the strength to progress on my own, running is just more fun, rewarding, and enjoyable with a friend. And Shelly knows how to push me. Her experience, fitness, and most importantly her strong attitude gets me motivated. She agreed to pace me for my next half marathon, and I'm just so thrilled to have a goal again.

Aside from the horrific car key fiasco Tuesday morning, my training has been good. I was supposed to have a down week… lots of recovery, but unfortunately last week I let myself down so I needed a little bit of redemption. I was happy to see my runs all falling into a sub 8 min pace, even my 7 miler that I slugged out at 5:30 am Thursday morning before a looooong 12 hour day at work.

Friday morning the sky was clear and the air cool so we got up early and drove down to Sandbridge Beach and watched the sun rise over the sea. Tried to get some yoga in (of course) but I have to admit that my body was resistant and inflexible that early. My backbends were tough. My balance was off. But the sun was beautiful.

Later that morning I met up with Jim and Garland, my two cycling friends readying themselves for their ironman races in the next 2 weeks. We swam in the Chesapeake Bay. I had the longest swim I have done in months. I loved most of it but after about a mile and a half I started feeling queasy. So I quit a bit early… I was hoping to pull the full 4000 meters. I was slow (by my standards) but I can't complain.

I am trying so very, very hard not to be sad and deflated that I am not doing Beach to Battleship 140.6. I will let it go. It's not my time. I will see my friends compete and do their best. I will feel proud of them. I will bide my time. I will stay focused on my dream: PR at Boston.

Then… I will be an ironman again. 2015 will be my year.

And I have so much to look forward to. I continue my missions with #90daysofmindfulness and the No Meat Athlete running group. I am going to be more dedicated and focused on nutrition for this training cycle, and look forward to exchanging ideas and camaraderie. 

And next weekend… an EVENT! A race! 200 mile relay with people I met on DailyMile. There are two other vegans on my team. I'm looking so forward to participating in an event FINALLY. It's been a weird year.

NOT looking forward to wearing a tutu. But a tutu I will wear.

The Key to Sanity

Today marks 200 days until the 2015 Boston Marathon.

It is also the first day of my second session of #90daysofmindfulness, a project dream child of a girl I coached as a youngster. She is now an artist and yoga instructor, and aspiring vegan, who is quite an inspirational human being. I have agreed to be an ambassador for this initiative; it's basically a social media movement in which people feel supported in their efforts for positive change, whatever that change might be. It can be fitness related, diet related, or anything else that brings positive change into your life.

In the last session, I threw out a very simple and measurable goal. I wanted to achieve King Pigeon pose in yoga. That was it. No big life change, no humungous event to tackle or train for. Just a pose that involves a serious backbend and shoulder flexibility. The irony is I came close, but in fact, do NOT have the pose.

What I did gain was a lot more: I did yoga most every evening, documented it in photography through the help of my family and friends, expressed my creativity, and read so many beautiful and inspiring quotes that filled my spirit with peace and motivation. I can't say that my participation was a failure then. It was a great experience.

This go round my goal is possibly a little less measurable, but definitely more fulfilling. My goal is to pay it forward. I'm not going to go into long detail of it… but basically I was probably one of the most selfish human beings on the planet last year. I was chasing a dream… and got caught up in it heart and soul. I forgot the peripheral people in my life. I neglected them, while they sacrificed to support me fulfill my needs and wants.

I don't have a lot of experience, but I have some. I see people striving to reach the same goal I met last year. I see people struggling with changing their eating habits. I have friends who could use some support in becoming healthy. I will do my best to make myself available to them. I will train with them, run alongside them, swim with them, bike with them. I'll be a cheerleader. They were there for me. I hope to be of some use to them.

In the meantime I know myself. I need to keep my a goal for myself intact, or I will lose my sanity. And I can't be of any use to anyone if I'm in a straightjacket.

So I just have to be a good manager of time, and keep my goals intact. I want to run the Boston Marathon in the best running shape so that I can get a personal record there. I just want to give it MY best…. whatever that is. I want to bring what I am capable of. And I know I am capable of more than I have done in the past. Not to be negative, but aging will limit my progress soon enough. I will reach a peak for my body and that will be the threshold. I want to see that limit. I want to see where it is. After that I will have to accept the destined path. I hope to keep myself going in a way that keeps me happy, healthy, and sane. That's the key.

Speaking of KEY, I have a funny story. Well, it wasn't funny at the time.

My goal this week was to get BACK ON TRACK. Last week I came up short. This week I wanted a different scene. A different vibe.

So on Tuesday I took my run to a new venue. I drove to the local grocery store, parked my car, stuffed my key in my shorts pocket (done it before, no problem), secured the velcro and off I went into the morning fog.

About halfway in I was inclined to feel my pocket. No key bulge. My pocket was EMPTY.

If that wasn't bad enough news, I let the situation sink in that I do NOT have a spare key. It was lost some 3 years ago and never replaced due to the expense.

I retraced my steps. Scoured the ground and the grass. No key. No key. NO KEY.

I made it back to the car and NO KEY.

True panic set in. This has never happened to me before.

I call my neighbor in distress. HELP! She agrees to come and rescue me while I figure out who I'm going to call and write that million dollar check to.

As she rolls in to the parking lot and I get in, she says: "Soooo… there's this random key that's been hanging on our key rack for a long time. I'm not trying to get your hopes up, but it's a Toyota key and I have no idea who it belongs to."

Guess where the spare key to my car has been for the past 3 years (or so).

In other news, the #SilhouetteYogis Instagram challenge is over. No winners selected, but I'm not worried about it. I got such positive feedback from the sponsors that no matter who gets the freebies, it was a winning experience. I'll participate again.

Some of the shots for the project:

Toe stand (with "rag doll" variation)

Standing backbend

Upward facing bow with leg variation

The Virginia Beach No Meat Athlete Running Group is up and "RUNNING."

Sounds like it's going to be another wonderful community for people to thrive in.

Off to yoga class. Got on my bike today and it was gooooooood.

Sunsets and Slumps Don't Mix

I am winding down from a long and disappointing week in training.

It started off pretty well… arrived back from Alabama last Sunday afternoon… was a bit tired but I woke up bright and early and got my assigned solo 5 miler in. I was supposed to go 5 "easy" to recover from the long run (which had numerous hills and the constant threat of rattlesnakes) but instead I decided to go moderate and finished up with an average 7:47 pace. Normally this would make me fairly happy ("Look at me! I'm zipping along on my easy day!"), but I guess the coach puts "easy" in there for a reason. (Hmmmm.)

It was a long day at work on that Monday, but when I got home the sky was just glorious. So I took one of my daughters down to the local marina so I could get some yoga in for the silhouette project. It was insanely beautiful out there. I forgot how the sky seems so much crisper and vibrant as the fall weather starts shifting in.

I loved that my daughter was into it.

My yogi-in-training.

Warrior pose.

Dancer pose.

Headstand.

But Tuesday morning I woke up and had to take the kidlets to orthodontist appointments and stared at the neglected piles of laundry everywhere. Speedwork day. And no one to do speed work with since the morning sessions got canceled.

Speedwork. The dreaded workout of the week. Cue the horror movie music.

The old me (the ironman from last year) would have found a way. And done it. Period. The current me, exhausted in mind and spirit from travel and lack of enthusiasm (no ironman on the horizon), bagged the run altogether and did chores and errands. The weather turned awful. Rain, rain, rain. I went to work, got even more exhausted, and collapsed in a heap.

Wednesday the rain continued to pour down in buckets. It was supposed to be a rest day for those who did their speed work (ahem) but guess who decided to take yet another mental health day. 

Thursday. I could not take another "mental health day." So I went on my what was supposed to be my 7 miler, but got too late of a start and had to cut it short at 5. Plus I ran it a bit hard again, average pace about 7:50/mi.

On Friday I just ground it out in spin and met a friend at the Bay for a swim. I have neglected my swim for months. The water was rough and choppy. Even the wetsuit didn't give me enough of an edge to overcome to tossing. I struggled and decided to give up before I hit the first set of pylons. Had I registered for an ironman, I'd be sucking it up like a buttercup. But since I was just there for moral support, I decided to cheer from the beach.

Of course this just added to my disappointment and made me just shy of a basket case.

On Saturday I did nothing but spectate soccer games in the morning. Later in the evening we took the paddle board and kayak and saw the most beautiful sunset I've seen in ages over Back Bay.

A great ending to a week that had been full of dismal weather and lots of blues on my end.

This morning I met my former Richmond Marathon training buddy Shelly, and we had a great conversational 10 miler that lifted my spirits. She has also signed up for the Harbor Lights Half in November, and has agreed to pace me for a PR.

Am ready to dump the slump and charge ahead next week. Will keep the blog updated regularly as best as possible to aid in the motivation department. Less whine and more work.

Day???… Travel, Train, and Tribulations.

It's literally a hopeless idea that I can go back and detail my training over the past few weeks. I would say that, in general, I've stuck to the training plan Ryan created for me. I've missed a speed workout maybe once and tacked on extra mileage when I shouldn't have. I've never been good at sticking to a plan to the letter unless I have a partner holding my hand, but I think for the most part I'm finding my discipline and getting it done.

And so much can happen in the course of a couple short weeks.

A lot of good things on the horizon. It looks like I may be involved with starting a vegetarian running group here in Virginia Beach based on an initiative through blogger and author Matt Frazier of the No Meat Athlete. I'm interested to see how this project flies... I hope lots of good, positive relationships will form out of this that benefits everyone. I've needed some motivation and a project to keep my momentum pushing forward. Already I did a long run with a girl I met who is in on this with me, and it was great. I could really us the support for my chosen diet and lifestyle. More on that later.

I've also been asked by a friend to participate as an "ambassador" of sorts in a project she calls "90 Days of Mindfulness." This is a social, public positive change project where you choose any goal that is a change for good in your life, and interact with others in the project to help motivate that change over the course of 90 days (and hopefully… beyond). This is actually the second round of this; I participated in the first, and it was a good experience. She wants to take it to the next level and get a broader following. I don't know how much I will influence any additional takers, but I think it's been a good thing for me personally, so I'm in. I just need to stay motivated and keep busy.

Also participating in a fun Instagram challenge called "SilhouetteYogis." My sister found this challenge for me and it is so up my alley it's ridiculous. Each day you perform an assigned pose in silhouette. I love photography, and of course my most recent passion is yoga. This challenge fuses my interests, and combines them into something completely fun and motivating for me. If nothing else, this forces me to go into the great outdoors, observe and appreciate the beauty and serenity of nature's most exquisite backdrops, and do some yoga. What's not to love…

So last Sunday I returned from an interesting trip, and one I won't soon forget. Years and years ago (over ten by now) I was filling out the family tree in my children's baby books. Had a lot of blanks on my husband's father's side of the family, and no one could help me fill them. I went on a mission to find out names. So I ended up on some genealogical websites, and ended up connecting with a woman in southeastern Alabama who was related to my father-in-law. Turned out she was a wealth of information, and we have been in touch ever since.

Now my father-in-law is absorbed by the mission I started, and proposed we go down and visit his cousin. In Alabama.

So we did.

Alabama, aerial view.

This seems like it would have NOTHING to do with a running blog, but the point is, I got some training in a new place and I just LOVE THAT. Exploring a new terrain on foot.

But running here in southeastern Alabama was quite the eye opening experience to say the least.

I will start off by saying that although I have lived in Virginia (technically the "South") for most of my life, you would definitely characterize me as a complete and total Yankee if you lived in Alabama. Worse yet, you might characterize me as a hippie vegan runner yogi freak, which just doesn't sound right in this culture. And I learned it is a culture. Not necessarily in a negative way… it just is.

After arriving in Ozark I mentioned to our most awesome and amazing hosts that I'd like to run in the morning, preferably earlier the better. They looked at me perplexed (I must have sprouted two heads) and asked me if I meant on the road? In the dark? For several miles?

Unfortunately, they informed me that this environment may not be really conducive to running for the following reasons:

1. There are hoodlums and creepy people in these parts. Known druggies, drug dealers and a possible meth lab. With shotguns. And oh-by-the-way two teenage girls were murdered down the road and found in a trunk of a car and the murderer was never found.

2. Rattlesnakes. They like to slither out on the road.

3. Coyotes. And crazy dogs on the loose.

4. 'Skeeters and biting deer flies.

5. Were the crazy people mentioned?

Sometimes I can be stubborn, and well, I promised myself that I would get my running in. So before the sun rose, I parked the car, got out and started running solo down this dark and spooky country road with numerous hills.

I have to admit I was scared. I listened to Coldplay. For some reason it helped calm me a bit.

The running was sooooo hard. The hill climbing, the thick humid air, my upset stomach, the nerves. Each stride was a major effort. As I made my turn to head back to the car, the sun emerged on the horizon, and it was like all the fears, toils and yuckiness just disappeared with the dark.

I stopped to snap a picture:

And then, as I sat there admiring nature's amazing light show, I felt a sudden burning stinging sensation up my ankle. I looked down.

FIRE ANTS.

I stepped on a hole. They attacked. I furiously swatted them off, peeling off my sock and shoe, and flung them off as they were making their way up my leg and into my shorts!

Just then a sheriff in a pick up truck rolls by. Turns on his blue lights. Pulls over. Did he need to turn the lights on?

I guess I must have looked like a crazed madwoman pulling off my footwear on the side of the road at dawn, in a complete frenzy, hitting and swatting myself. I could be one of those druggies in search of another score at the meth lab.

He noticed right away I wasn't from "these parts." I told him my fire ant story. He asked if I needed a ride? No. I'm running back. He just drove away shaking his head.

Maaaaaaan did my ankle and foot sting and itch on that last bit.

@#$%ing FIRE ANTS.

The next day I didn't run. I was a genealogical researcher in courthouses, libraries, and graveyards.

But I might have done some yoga in front of a cool old building.

Some old auditorium in the middle of nowhere...

Clayton, AL

Boll Weevil Monument in Enterprise, AL

The Boll Weevil was eradicated. Triumph over the bug commemorated here.

An evening summer storm rolls in downtown Ozark.

On Friday evening we attended a "pickin"… not a pig pickin'… like you would think. But a guitar pickin'. Several of our host's friends play in a southern gospel band and they meet up every weekend to entertain the locals. Everyone brings food… lots of greasy stuff, lots of canned stuff, lots of stuff with sugar and salt and butter in it… so in other words a vegan is destined for starvation at one of these.

The music was amazing. Not my genre at all, but it doesn't mean I couldn't appreciate it. The people were salt of the earth. I stuck out like a sore thumb, but everyone was friendly and wonderful. What an experience.

On Saturday morning I ran about 12 miles starting out on that same country road again, but this time after the sun came up. It was just as hard as the first time. Just longer. No fire ants this time, and no cops. A few stares and a few comments by locals in pick up trucks. But I survived.

Back in Virginia Beach now, trying to find my running mojo. Monday was okay. The weather is cooling down.

The fire ant bites are healing and it's back to business.

Labor Day Weekend, and Beyond. Catching Up.

So I have completely slacked on this blog. So much for my tireless discipline. My goal was to keep myself very, very accountable to my goal… and this was a vehicle, just like my training, to keep my head straight and organized.

But life happens. You get busy, you get distracted, blogging discipline falls away.

Internet access sometimes becomes an issue, and often there just isn't enough time left in the day. And so there it is.

So I'll try to catch up some…. doesn't matter really, this is for my own purposes really, and I have been (for the most part) keeping my training somewhat intact. I just haven't been writing about it.

So I left off right before Labor Day. The family and I packed up and drove south to Lake Gaston to spend a couple of days at a lake house with my husband's family. The house was beautiful, the weather was great (for the most part), and the kids had a blast. I was completely disassociated with the world with no internet or cell service. Overall it was a great experience.

I got some pretty good training in. I love training in new places, especially when I have to train alone. It can be nerve-wracking too, but it just invigorates my mind a little to have something new to look at when you're putting the miles down.

On day one I got up early for my Saturday long run. I called it my "Lake Gaston Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon"… in honor of the race taking place back home in Virginia Beach.

Got up at sunrise and set out with my Garmin and just followed the country roads. I decided I'd go about 6 and a half miles out and then turn back.

The view of the sunrise over the lake at about mile 4.

The run was "decent" but I had my issues. There were some hills, especially in the beginning, that made it kind of a tough start. It was very humid and warm already at 6:30 am, and I had no water with me.

At about mile 5 I stopped to take the above pictures. Normally on long runs I prefer not to take any substantial breaks, because it disrupts the endurance rhythm I'm going for, but I looked at the sun rising over the lake and I simply told myself "Do what you love because you love what you do." This wasn't a race and no matter what, I'd put the miles down this morning so take the moments to snap a shot or two. Now I can always look back to the images I saw on that run. And they were lovely. This is what makes running worth it.

I got 13-ish miles in that morning, and I was pretty proud of that. Given the elevation, humidity, and lack of hydration I was completely satisfied with my pace. I know my coach would like for me to be in the low 8's or high 7's for these, but this is where I am.

"Lake Gaston Half" splits.

I brought my road bike with me so the next morning I set out on a solo trek. It was an adventure for sure: no cell service or GPS, no sense of a route, and in a pretty desolate area of North Carolina. A year ago I would have never done such a thing. But I'm braver by the day on the bike and wanted to go, so I went.

The morning was truly spectacular. The sunrise was lovely and of course I had to capture the moments in images.

Sunrise over Lake Gaston in Littleton, North Carolina

Country road sunrise

A quick bridge stop to capture the scene

Here is how I would describe this ride: interesting (I got to see all sorts of images of "Po Dunk, NC" life: bait and tackle shops, trailers, shooting ranges, and lots and lots of run down churches), tough (the rolling hills were a challenge on my fatigued legs), and tougher (at some point during the ride a storm worked its way in and the wind blew in my face on the way back… luckily I didn't get caught in a downpour).

I got about 33 slow miles in… not too long, not too short. I went far enough to feel comfortable that I wouldn't get lost forever on desolate North Carolina country backroads.

After I got back I decided to try to go for a swim in the lake. I forgot my real goggles at home so my poor husband tried desperately to find me a pair, just to make me happy and support my training (and avoid the grumpy aftermath of me not getting a swim in). Not an easy feat out in the middle of nowhere in Po Dunk. But he found a cheap pair at the Dollar Store. And they were cheap. I took them out of their packaging, attempted to put them on and they immediately broke. So I had to basically tie the things together to get them to stay on my face.

I went for a swim. The water was murky brown and speed boats and jet skis were everywhere, passing close by to my left and throwing out pretty decent wakes that I had to contend with. I felt disoriented but swam down to someone's dock and then just turned back. I think I only made about 1500 yards. More than a sprint tri, definitely less than a half iron. When I got out of the water my rash guard was stained perfectly dingy brown.

Last morning there I needed another run so I was about to set out when my husband's cousin said he wanted to join me. I don't get a lot of company on runs anymore these days so I was happy to have a buddy.

We started out chatting on those hills but about a mile or so into it he fell back a bit and I kept a steady pace. We did about 7 miles. I remember that it was insanely humid. We both sweat buckets and had to jump in the lake afterwards to cool down.

So all in all a good weekend and some good training to boot.

Feeling ten years old.

So that was almost 3 weeks ago and a lot has happened since.

I got in to Boston. I'm going. The acceptance already came.

Still a long way off, the true work is ahead of me. I want to enjoy the race of course. And I know I will, er, I hope I will if nothing interrupts the training process and I keep myself strong.

That's just it. Keep myself strong.

Last year I thought I was strong. And I may have been stronger physically than I ever was in my entire life. But mentally I think I was weak and dependent, and this time I need to find it within myself.

My coach will be there, but as of this moment in the process he and I have not REALLY worked together. He has given me a plan. I try to follow it. I do the runs alone (most of them) and he and I have chatted minimally. He doesn't know me yet, and hasn't provided a whole lot of feedback thus far. 

I have accepted this as a pretty understandable circumstance… I am in a speed and base building phase and there really isn't much to say. I'm not brand new to running, and I'm not far off of where he planned for me to be. So what really is there? I'm sure as the event draws closer we will have more to discuss and tweak.

But it is my absolute HOPE and DREAM to be absolutely ready in April to make it memorable.

So I will continue to try to keep myself going and appreciate and savor the process.