So the Warrior, the Purist, the Socializer and the Exerciser All Walk Into A Bar...

For those of us that exercise [and I believe that we all do, whatever the reason and for however long…upcoming event we want to look good for, to minimize the ol’ muffin top sitting at the waist line of our jeans, because you saw a bunch of attractive (hopefully) singles running in one area and want to accidentally, on purpose, run into them (“Oops! How clumsy of me to have run directly into your path…must have been the sun glare! My name’s Lauren by the way. Run here often?”…)] we know what kind of runner we are, but I thought this was a pretty cute quiz done by UK’s Runner’s World (the ending charactatures remind me of a picture I got done of myself on the New Jersey Shore Boardwalk when I was 10 – only, increase the head size, like, 50%).

I’m apparently “The Exerciser” (though I find this title to be highly redundant based on the fact that running is, well, exercising). Although “The Exerciser” isn’t a 100% accurate description of my running mentality, it does hold nuggets of truth in there. Check it out – if nothing else, it’s something to do if you’re bored [and since you are currently reading my running blog, I can safely guesstimate that you are, in fact, bored…or avoiding work. You can thank me later for helping you procrastinate ;)]

Just Because I Love Them So Much

New Balance has been putting out some running commercials the past few years that I have absolutely loved. I've laughed, I've cried, I've whole heartedly agreed and sympathized with the actors on the screen…

Here are just a few of my favorites. It’s good to know that what I am feeling when I have to go to bed early on Friday evening, or when I roll out of bed at 5:30 am on a Saturday, or when I am hurt/ sick (like this week – ugh) and can’t run is not isolated to just me.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.

1) For the early morning runs




2) For every first mile (because I don't "like it" until about mile 5)




3) How I feel after pretty much every long run



4) When I'm physically unable to run (for either illness or injury)



5) And finally, the perfect summation



Thank you New Balance, I may not use your shoes, but I truly enjoy your commercials.

Yep, I am the smelly girl.

Running really is a mental game. Most of the time, when I find that I have had a good run, it’s partly because my mind was distracted and not focused as much on where I was or what I was doing (e.g. running). Now, it’s not as if I’m not alert and paying attention to my surroundings, it’s more just relaxing into the motion of running and letting my mind workout my daily subconscious/ conscious worries. This has come in to play, big time, over the last few long runs that I have done. As my prior post detailed, 16 miles was absolutely no fun for me. I hate nearly every minute of it, and all my body wanted to do was stop moving and sit down somewhere. However, the last two long runs that I just completed were not nearly as bad - though I had to trick myself every so often in order for me to get through it/ not focus on running.

Part of this mental game for me is having people there while I run. Yes, this becomes crucial when I’m in need of outside support because my body/ mind is failing to do the job I want it to do (like the 16 miler) - but it’s also important when I’m not hurting. It’s more fun to step out with someone(s) by my side (I mean a party isn’t a party if it’s just you, is it?) and I typically stay out longer when there are people with me as well. So, I sometimes wish that running was more of a team sport, that you couldn't do it without having a buddy along. And since I have adapted to the TNT way of running (i.e. not listening to music while I run), it’s all on me to distract myself while I am out on the trail. I actually think I prefer it this way, I listen to my body way more without music and find a rhythm that has nothing to do with Whitney Houston’s vocals or Aerosmith’s guitar solos.

With this in mind, although 10 miles is now considered my “short weekend run,” I still did not want to do it on my own. I didn’t have any plans to leave the city on Labor Day weekend, and took the opportunity to look around and see who I could motivate to come running 10 miles with me, early on Saturday morning.

Saturday morning was the only logical time to go. Although I was not venturing out of the city (or, at least, very far out of the city) my weekend plans included an afternoon through evening wedding on Saturday, where I knew many celebratory glasses of wine were going to be drunk, Sunday I was headed up to Baltimore to see some friends, and Monday was going to consist of a little chore doing and massive amounts of laziness having (running would have just messed that up). So Saturday morning it was. I found that two of my Team In Training running mates, Laura and Wendy, were going to be in town, and instantly recruited them. Then I went online to see if my old running group, The DC Capital Striders, was holding anything that morning. Score! They had put together a run from DuPont Circle at 8:30 am (meaning I could sleep in a little bit AND use the metro to get there. No begging for a ride or rental car needed! Sa-weet), and although the posting listed them doing 12 miles, I knew they’d be able to reconfigure the course to suit our 10 mile needs. (Yes, I refuse to go “above and beyond” with the training - if it says 10, I am doing 10, not 10.1, just 10.) So, I signed us up and rested my head easy for the rest of the week.

Seeing as how I have recently moved, I was still at the point where the majority of my belongings were nestled in unlabelled boxes scattered throughout the house, leaving me minus one alarm clock (among many, many things). So, I branched out and used other technology to help lull me out of slumber every morning…my cell phone. It was actually much more effective then my alarm clock has been. Over the past few months I have grown accustom to the voices of NPR Morning Edition hosts Steve Inskeep and Renée Montagne, to the point where 15 minutes may have past and my brain still hasn’t realized that I was supposed to get out of bed. I need the nudging of incessant beeping, directly next to my head to jar me out of my dreams. (It also helps that the snooze alarm is only 5 minutes long, instead of the 9 minutes my trusty old alarm clock used to give me…) So since I had been a rockstar all week - getting up on time, showing up to work early - I was a bit cocky when setting my alarm for Saturday morning. Although I had typed in the correct numbers 6:30, I failed to type in the correct time of day and let it rest on PM instead of converting it to AM. My body wakes me up around 7: 25 am, and I look around my bedroom confused - and confused as to why I am confused.

“Okay, it’s morning. That’s fine.”
“It’s light outside. Something about that feels wrong…”
“Didn’t I just wake up?…Why is my alarm not beeping then?…it’s 7:25!”

I jump out of bed, pick up my cell and start typing to my TNT running mates. “Running late - don’t leave without me!” Throw some running gear on my body, bread down my throat, and head out to catch the first metro train before having to transfer at Metro Center. By pure dumb luck, each train arrives right as I get to the platform, allowing me to get to the fountain at DuPont 15 minutes EARLY. Ah, looks like I could have actually had that bowl of oatmeal! Oh well. I cop a swat on the fountain, do some people watching, and read both reply text messages letting me know that they were actually running behind too. Slowly but surely, people start showing up and, in true gym class style, we all stand around in an oblong circle, with our hands on our hips, slightly swaying from side to side waiting for instruction.

“Okay guys, we are going to exit the circle over here, and run down P Street, making a right on 35th street, and then a left on Wisconsin Avenue. We’ll take that all the way up into Friendship Heights, and then cut over to come back down Connecticut Avenue and meet back at the circle. Everyone got that?” ...may have been the instructions that he said, but this is what I heard:

“Okay guys, we are going to exit the circle over here, and run down P Street, then I’m going to make you take a right up this steep hill, only to make you take a left up an even steeper hill and then force you run up that until you nearly pass out from exhaustion. Everyone got that?”

The next words out of my mouth were, “And where do we turn off for 10 miles?”

No one else seemed phased by this course. I think they all took the glass half full approach and thought that whatever we were running up the first half we would be running down the second, but, no, I did not look at it that way. I took it as, we are running up one major incline, and it’s going to suck. Half way through the hill I was so thankful that Laura and Wendy had decided to join me. All the other Striders were hundreds of feet ahead of us, and we were jogging along right next to one another. The leaders of our group would turn back around for us every so often, to make sure that we weren’t lost (which was very nice of them, but we were basically running a straight line. If we got lost, that would be pretty pathetic.) I kept thinking that this is all good practice for San Fran, and that however much this hurts now, it will hurt less in the race because I’m stronger from my training. The turn to come back down the hill on Connecticut was indeed nice - I was actually able to keep up conversation at this point in the run - and even dodging the early morning zoo goers was a good time. We got back to the circle and I immediately hailed a cab so that I could get back and get ready for the wedding.

Fast forward to the next weekend, the team is back running together, and we are completing 18 miles. It’s true, I have run 18 miles before, but that was over a year ago, and thinking on just how bad 16 miles went, I was nervous about the run all week. The coaches decided that we were going to do our mileage in Reston, VA on the W&OD trail, which would take a touch longer to get to then Fletcher’s Boat House or the National Mall. The girl who was giving me a ride let me know she would pick me up at 10 after 6:00, so I got myself up at 5:30 to be ready for her arrival. 6:10 roles around, and I’m fully dressed, standing at the kitchen window, peering out looking for her car…6:15, okay, this is the first time she is getting here, maybe she got a little turned around…6:20, I do not have a good feeling about this. She hasn’t called me to tell me she was lost and she hasn’t shown up yet. I rushed upstairs, turned on my computer and check my e-mail for her cell phone number. First time I dialed it, it lead me to a, “The number you have dialed as been disconnected. Please hang up and check the number you are hoping to reach,” message. I freaked. Then realized I inverted the first two numbers. Whew. I dialed the correct number - no answer. I dialed it, immediately, again, a groggy “hello?” came on the other end. It’s now 6:28 am.

“Hey! It’s Lauren from TNT. I hope you didn’t just wake up. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, hey. I was just about to call you. I can’t go.”
“I’m…you…what, why?!” All I could think of was how I was NOT prepared to run 18 miles by myself. NOT prepared at all.
“Oh, trouble with Zipcar. I couldn’t and they couldn’t locate the car I rented, so I’m not going to worry about it. By the time we got another car, it would be too late anyway.” Oh. Dear. God. NO.

I had to get off the phone immediately. My brain whizzed with possible options to take, and staying on the line with my old ride was clearly not getting me any closer to the trail with my team.
“Okay, well, that sucks. Gotta go!”

I called the other girl who had offered me a ride earlier in the week, unfortunately, she was almost at the trail by the time I got a hold of her.

Next option, my running group - they had a run last weekend, and even if they aren’t planning on doing 18, I’ll at least have some people to run with for the first few miles. Typed in their web address, and…turns out that was the one Saturday they didn’t have a run (or rather, they had one - but no one was showing up to it. Not even the designated leader for that meetup. Sigh).

Next option, my friend Dave who runs ridiculously long runs all the time, for fun, and who gets up early - even on the weekends. I text him. No immediate response. Ugh.

Next option, I call my mentor, Kristy. She picks up on the second ring, “Hey Lauren! How are you?”

“On the brink of tears…” I run through my dilemma and glance at the clock, 6:34 am. She reassures me that she hasn’t even left, and is having trouble locating her Zipcar (geez Zipcar - get with it already!). I ask her if she thinks if I rent a Zipcar now, and drive out, whether I would still be okay? Sure, I’d get there late, but I wouldn’t (mentally) be on my own for the run (and I really needed that at that point). She thought that would be fine, and had even talked to someone who was already at the trail sight and said things were running slower that morning.

I got off the phone with her, located an available Zipcar (6 blocks away - grrrr), hastily wrote down directions to Reston, threw my bag on my back, and took off. A block away from my house and my bag completely breaks, but I don't slow down. I whip it to the front side of my body and continue running. I get to the street the Zipcar was supposed to be on, and see nothing. Not one of their orange signs denoting where the car was parked, not a car door with the Zipcar logo on it - nothing. I paced the street like an angry lion and analyzed every car (windshield for the sensor, car door, even license plate - nothing). I was in no mood for this, I had to get to a practice I was already late for - so I wasted no time and called Zipcar (bypassing Dave's response text message since I had already decided on the mad dash to Reston, VA). To be honest - I could have been nicer to the representative, but after already loosing one ride to a missing Zipcar, there was no way I was going to loose two. She was able to calmly and nicely let me know that the car is actually located in the alleyway behind the address they had given (a fact that was probably listed on the reservation but I over looked due to the quickness in which I wrote everything down. My bad Zipcar.) I got on the road and headed toward my old running spot, but a place I have never driven to. I hit the GW Parkway, and pushed the speed limit just a bit. Right as I thought I was making good time, a cop from the other direction, hops the median grass strip and does a U-turn to come back my direction. Crap - I can not be pulled over right now. Crap. Crap. Crap. Granted, I was going with the flow of traffic, however, the way my luck was going that morning, I would be the one that was singled out. I tapped the brake and slowed the speed down a good 8-10 mph. After about a mile, the copper drove past me and made a right into some park. My shoulders relaxed and, not learning my lesson, picked up the speed again, anxiously looking for my next turn off. By the time I made it to the trail, it was 7:40 am, and the only people left over in the parking lot/ meet up area were the coaches and other assorted TNT personnel. Kristy had informed them of the debacle that occurred earlier, so they were well prepared for my late arrival. I got instructions as to where the team headed, did a quick stretch, and let curiosity get the best of me.
"So, how long ago did they head out?"
"About 20 minutes ago, you won't be too far behind everyone."
I started my run, and thought - okay, 20 minutes, that's 2 miles for someone who runs at a 10 minute pace...I may actually be able to catch up with some of the slower folks. Sweet.

I was keeping a pretty decent pace, and my mind was rather distracted (a good thing) so I wasn't even thinking about or worrying about the miles I was completing that day. I was content that I had made it to the trail and I was running with my people. I pasted my favorite trail sign - Difficult Run - snickered and continued on. About mile 4 I started to see some familiar faces and running shirts (coming the other way, of course) - by mile 6 I found all of my running buddies (coming the other way, of course), who all hooted and hollered for my triumphant showing at practice that morning. Awl...you guys :)

The morning of the 18 miler was also rather cold - probably around the 60 degree mark- a fact that I didn't take into account/ didn't notice since my body temperature had increased from stress and rushing around. I had removed my longer shirt when I got to the parking lot, and wished I had it with me about mile 10. The wind was a blowin', and I was a sweaty. Since I was in constant motion, it didn't really bother me until I slowed down or stopped altogether. I wasn't stopping for muscle or joint pain though, I only slowed/ stopped at the water stops or for a restroom break. The "breaks" were a tad more frequent during this run since my body decided that the early morning stress was also going to throw my stomach out of sorts, but I was slightly grateful for it since it helped add to my distraction. "An upset stomach helped you?" you may be thinking. Yes, it absolutely did. I was so focused on finding out where the next Port-O-John was, and running more quickly to locate it, that I wasn't even phased by what mile I was on or how much farther I had until the end. I had a more pressing, shorter distance to worry about. Sure, that slowed me down, and, ultimately, I was definitely one of the last ones to roll back into the meeting area - but I could have cared less.

The miles continued. Every so often I would see someone I knew coming the other way, and every so often I was able to pass someone on the trail, and before I knew it - "TNT - FINISHED" appeared before me, written in pink and yellow sidewalk chalk. Really? That was 18 miles? Wait, really? Oh, okay.

I started to walk over to my team, but quickly switched back to running. I didn't really like going slow. I got back to the tents and tables, downed a bagel with peanut butter and chatted with the remaining folks about how everyone else's run went. I couldn't believe how good I felt. I could have continued running, I felt that good. I drove myself back - getting completely lost since I didn't write down return directions... - stretched and went on with my day. My roommate did come up to me when I got home, and she - without thinking about it - gave me a hug, "Congrats! You're done your 18 miler! Oh (nose scrunched up) you stink."

Yes. Thank you. I know.

Well, If He Can Do 43, I Can Do 1

This article caught my eye as I was on the metro headed to work today. There was just a small blurb in the Washington Post Express, right below two articles titled the "U.N. Condemns Gaza War Crimes" and “Somali Militants Vow to Avenge Assault by U.S.” - I think I am missing the correlation the editors saw when laying out this page... - but enough was there to wet my appetite.

Apparently “funny man” Eddie Izzard (yes, those quotation marks are on purpose) ended his 1,100-mile trek across Britain in Trafalgar Square on Tuesday, September 15, 2009. The equivalent of 43 marathons - an amazing feat - all for a U.K. charity called Sport Relief. This just confirms my theory that all comedians must be a little off in the head. 43? I thought one was bad enough!

My favorite part of the whole story was that he finished it running next to an ice cream truck that was playing the theme song to “Chariots of Fire.”

For more on the story: Izzard: I've run the UK, now will run for office

(If you don’t have a Washington Post account, the article is probably up for free somewhere on the internet)

Countdown: 45 Days Left

DC’s summers are known for their heat, humidity and pasty Washingtonians. Although tourists from far and wide flock to the town to see the sights, many immediately regret their sight seeing plans when they realize there is only minimal shade (and bathrooms) to be had on the National Mall. This summer, however, has been fairly mild. It does keep me from running during lunch, but I have not had to take extreme measures to ensure that my hair does not rise 3 feet higher then it normally would, and walking around the city for extended periods of time does not have me clambering for my water bottle every few steps. So, all in all, a really wonderful summer - until…UGH-gust. We were really making up for the mildness, which is particularly nice when I have the pleasure of sweating through work clothes that are built for cooler temperatures (read: my office is like a Frigidaire) when stepping outside. (Truthfully, the heat isn’t all bad. The first 15-30 transitional seconds, when I go from inside to outside, are the best. I can feel my limbs thaw out, like the sun is wrapping me in a nice hug. After those 15-30 seconds though, the hug begins to intensify until I am almost in a vice-like grip of heat. Just darling.)

I had heard that the 14-miler my team completed was done on a day the heat hit early (about 90 degrees at 7:00 a.m.), and my attempted 14-miler was in conditions that were no better (hence, attempted…), so when I got out of bed this past Saturday, and stepped outside at 6:20 a.m. into air so thick I nearly choked, I was a little worried. My 10 miler had gone really well the previous weekend, and the 6-miler I did with the Striders that following Monday was also pretty strong - so I thought my knee could handle the mileage, I just wasn’t sure the rest of my body was going to fair so well. My ride shows up, we get to trail and join the rest of the team for some instruction and some inspiration before we started off. The coaches laid out our path for that day, which luckily did not include Haines Point. I am not sure what it is about that place, but I feel like it is the Bermuda Triangle for my energy. All three times I have run out there, I have had really poor runs. I’m trying to get out of the mindset that “Haines Point = exhaustion” and reassure myself that these were all just fluke coincidences, but I’m losing that mental battle at the moment.

Our (sans Haines Point) running trail had us starting out at Fletcher’s Boat House and heading left towards Maryland until mile marker 5.5, then looping around to head back past the boat house, down into Georgetown’s Waterfront, then up into Rock Creek Parkway turning around right before that very scary, very steep hill at the junction of Calvert Street and Rock Creek Parkway, ending back at Fletcher’s Boat House. Initially, I was afraid the coaches had planned for us to go UP that very steep hill heading into Woodley Park (wouldn’t put it past them - sadists), and ran with a pit of dread swimming in my stomach when I knew that point was getting close. As soon as I saw other TNTers turn at the lower stop sign, I could have jumped for joy, but I decided to save my energy for the 6 miles still left to do.

As predicted, my knee dealt well with the mileage, and the rest of my body felt pretty good throughout the 16 miles (I allowed myself to stop and stretch a few times - reasoning that if I pulled something, I’d have to sit out – in pain - and who wants that?), but I really struggled mentally with this run. The whole time I was out there, and even before we started, I couldn’t wait to finish. The portion of my brain that I deem the “whiney two year old” section was dominating my thoughts and threw quite the temper tantrum.
I tried to force some positive thinking, but
“This is stupid.”
“I hate this.”
“Why am I running another marathon?”
kept crawling back in. I am pretty sure it had something to do with the amount of stress I was under that week and the extra humidity that my body was dealing with that morning, but thinking about finishing was the ONLY thing that truly kept me going. Really pathetically obvious thoughts kept my legs moving, the biggest being: “Once you’re finished, you can stop running for today.” In close second was, “Once you’re finished, you can go take a nap.” And finally, “If you walk, you’ll be out here longer.” It reiterated to me just how important it is to have team support on these longer runs. Even if all it is, is passing someone going the other way on the trail in a Team In Training shirt, and nodding in recognition that we are out there together. It’s a pretty powerful thing, particularly when your thoughts have turned against you.

Although I had taken the time to stretch out on the trail, I was undeniably tight after finishing. My Quads especially. The soreness was punctuated when I walked down the small hill to get back into the parking lot/ meet-up area to rejoin the rest of my teammates. It took me a little extra time to walk those 10 feet, complete with occasional scrunched up facial movements and arms airplaned out to the side for balance. My muscles were not happy that I was asking them to do anything else, so I rewarded/ placated them with a solid 8 minutes of stretching. Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh. Much better. It really is the little things in life.

In total, I was out there just under 3 hours (we hit the trail at 7:15 am, and I got back at 10:05:56 am) that day, which - if you factor in two stretching breaks and one bathroom stop - means I kept a sub 10-minute mile pace (ultimately what I am shooting for during the race). Yeah, that’s right - I rock.

This weekend will be 10 miles with out my team again (since it’s a long holiday weekend, and they figure that most people will be going out of town), so I have decided to buddy up with my old running group again (the Capital Striders) and am dragging along two of my TNT teammates. Bonuses to this weekend are that I get to sleep in to at least 6:30 a.m. (woo hoo!) and the weather has taken a dive this week so I’ll get to run in 70 degree weather! Come on sweater weather/ football games/ candy corn/ running through dried leaves and hearing them crackle at your feet…I love Fall.

I have more awesome people to thank for their generous donations over the past few days. Your donations have brought me to the 60% mark!

- Rick: Buddy. I have no idea how I forgot you last round. For this, I will thank you twice. THANK YOU for your donation. Just think, if it wasn’t for your running group, I would have never gotten back into running. My marathon really started the first day I showed up and meet with you all.

- Mike: Thank you so much for going out of your way to donate to my cause!

- Cecilia: Miss working with you. Let me know when you finally get started again and aren’t just eating dirt and twigs anymore ~ you can count on my support!

- Jeff: Thank you for not only donating, but taking the time to pass along my information to others. The more people that I can reach – even if it’s through other people – the better chance LLS will have to fund their research and give back to families that are personally touched by these diseases.

- Jaelithe: I will always refer to you as my roommate. I’m glad to hear that everything is working out for you in Florida, but…move back up here. I miss you. Thank you for your donation (I hope you can make it to Cali with me!!!)

- Will: Has the move to DC become complete? If so, I believe a drink at a non-discotheque hookah bar is in order. *wink

- Alice: Can’t wait to see you this weekend. Thank you so much for putting some of your hard earned money towards my fundraising goal!

- Hui Ling: It was so great running into you (literally) twice last week! I am going to try and stay on my Strider kick – so hopefully I will be seeing you out on the trail soon.

- Rick: Alright, my second thank you is comin’ at ya – THANK YOU!!!

Man Imposes His Own Limitations, Don't Set Any - Anthony Bailey

Well, two weeks without my team was tough. Add in traveling, long nights, early mornings, and food on the road - and, well, getting back into the groove during the week isn’t the easiest. My body hasn’t been sure which direction I have wanted to take lately. “Are we marathon training or just on summer vacation?!” The 8 miler in Florida wasn’t too terrible, but the 14 miler on my own this week sucked. Since last weekend allotted absolutely no time to fit in a 30 minute jog, let alone my 14 mile training run, I had to opt to do it on Monday evening after work. So, trying to pysch myself up, I planned out my route on www.MapMyRun.com, picking some new roads to travel so the run wasn’t too mundane, and listened to some upbeat music while getting changed into my running gear. I chose my Team In Training shirt to also remind myself why I was out there, and hopefully give me a mental push when I hit exhaustion, but my shirt did me one better. When I got almost completely around the Haines Point portion of my run, one of the bikers, who had ridden by me a little earlier, slowed down to chat with me for a bit. Turns out she ran the Nike Women’s Marathon back in 2006, and she offered two bits of helpful advice: first one was – “Save your energy for the second half of the run – trust me,” (I think they have changed the course since 2006, but I will still heed her advice. Plus, who guns it at the beginning of a marathon anyway? It’s all about pacing yourself.); second was – “Slow down at the finish line or you will miss the firemen like I did.” (Very helpful! One of the most exciting parts of the marathon will not only be completing it – but completing it while getting a Tiffany’s necklace from a fireman in a tux! I mean…come on!) We didn’t talk long, and I didn’t even get her name, but it was a nice little break from my route that day. Thank you shirt!

After Haines Point, I had my run take me down the National Mall and up around the Capitol Building where I had a fortunate run in with my old running group, the Capital Striders (though, I didn’t recognize anyone anymore since it’s been so long since I’ve been a “regular”). I stopped and chatted with my old friend and supervisor of C.S., Rick, for a minute or two – and promised him that I would catch up with them on Thursday evening. I didn’t want to stop too long since 14 miles typically takes me over two hours to complete (140 minutes – if I’m keeping a half decent pace), and I knew I was running on the slow side that day. My knee began to hurt on mile 4, and was progressively feeling worse, it was approximately 90 degrees out (at 7:30 p.m.), and I was really starting to feel the exhaustion hit. When I took off again, I knew I wasn’t going to complete 14 miles that day. My body and my mind weren’t into it. So, I recalculated the run in my head, and shortened it a few miles to get back sooner. All would have been fine…but, my darn knee had other plans, and they apparently did not include me running any farther. I got half way around the Capitol Building, and tried for the down hill descent (which is usually the fun part) and I, just, couldn’t. So, not having brought my Metro Card or any money with me, I walked the remaining 3 miles back to my gym so that I could finally head home. I was on autopilot at that point, utterly spent, only 9 miles into my run. I would have been frustrated, if I had any energy to be so.

When I got back to the gym, I noticed a fine dust covering all over my body. “Hm, that’s interesting, I don’t remember it being all that dusty on the trail today.” I realized in the next second that it was just all the salt residue from my dried sweat. So, so gross. A shower was first on my list of things to do upon getting home, followed immediately by the consumption of food and lots and lots of water (although, I had most likely had 3 gallons or more that day already).

On a related note, I have decided to actually start using the gym I pay 38 bucks a month for again. Although the gym at my new work is one of the nicest I’ve seen (and trust me, I’ve worked in almost every office building DC has to offer now), it doesn’t have any classes - and I’m thinking that is what I need for a little added push at the end of my training. Since I no longer have Lisa to be my slave driver instructor (tear), this week I signed up and did my very first Spinning class. I have to say - I felt a little violated by the bike seat. I do not need to ever be that friendly with a piece of gym equipment, ever, especially when others have been just as familiar with it before me. No one else seemed bothered by the rather uncomfortable contours of the seat, but I found it hard to ignore. That's not to say that walking in to this particular exercise I was naive to the fact that the bike seat wasn’t going to be the most cushy thing (years of having a bike being the means of transportation as a youngster taught me this), however, what did catch me off-guard was what I saw when I actually walked in to the class.

My gym keeps their spinning classes below ground, completely separate from every other thing in the gym: aerobics, weights, cardio machine, locker rooms - which means, I can safely deducted that people who do spinning should be hidden away, and, probably, mocked. So, being my first Spinning class and all, it was my first trip as a gym base dweller. It all seemed very “street level” normal, until I walked into, what could only have been, my classroom: a Rave Discotheque, complete with black lights and Tide Splattered Walls. I felt I should have brought some glow sticks along with my bottle of water.

The light blue outfit I had chosen for the workout glowed back at me from the wall mirror, contrasting nicely with my black light darkened skin. (Truthfully, I haven’t looked so tan in awhile - will keep in mind next time I’m feeling pasty.) The teacher was something akin to a crazy bike messenger, who feels it’s not only comfortable, but completely normal, to sit erect on the bike seat and do a variety of stretches. Let me reiterate my earlier statement of…OUCH! Can’t we STAND and do this, lady? Apparently, if you’re in the bike room, you are on the bike. Fan-tastic.

Although it was hard to focus elsewhere, I was thankful for three things: One, I was not the only first timer in the class, Two, I did not “spin out” and whack myself on the back of the leg with the bike pedal (which the other new girl did), and Three, the instructor picked very good, very distracting music to go along with her routine. I was, of course, wearing my heart rate monitor throughout, and checked my wrist every so often to see how I was doing. I got to a respectable heart rate of 166 on some of the tougher parts of class. To be fair, I kept my resistance lower then I could have handled for my first stationary ride out. I wanted to feel out what a Spinning class would actually be like. I still built up a pretty decent sweat, which I’m sure all of the metro riders adored me for a second time this week (Angelic "Sorry!")

I made good on my promise of meeting up with the Capital Striders on Thursday. Just like Monday night, I knew no one but Rick. For the first few minutes, Rick and I kept smirking at each other as all the other Strider regulars introduced themselves to me and tried to convince me what a great group I was about to join. We then let them all in on the “big secret” that I had actually been a member since 2006 when Rick introduced me to the crowd as a Strider original. Everyone was super nice, and, as predicted, still 10x faster then me. Although I could feel that I was keeping a good pace for myself during the 5 miler (a 9 – 9:30 minute mile), I had a 65 year old guy on Rock Creek Parkway that refused to let me pass him, and I came in dead last for the Strider group. Tough luck! The upside was that my knee felt great. I mean, really good. A complete 180 from Monday. I think it was from the accelerated pace I was able to keep since I was running with other folks. My assumption made only more solid after my 10 miler this weekend back with the Team. I started slow, and my knee was bothering me slightly, and when I picked the pace up about half way through, I didn’t have any knee pain at all. So, this means, I’ll just have to run the marathon fast…rrrrriiiiight.

Best of luck to me on that one.

As you know, training is only part of the battle, and the other part is fundraising. Let me take this opportunity to thank those who have so generously donated:

- John and Aileen: You guys are such a wonderful couple! Thanks for you support and I hope you guys will be able to make it out to my next fundraiser!!!
- Gideon: Just in case you have forgotten, I’m completely jealous of your year o’ fun away from fluorescent lights and polished shoes. Keep me updated as you and Emily make your way across the country. I am looking forward to catching up with you guys over on the West Coast!
- Donna: My dear friend. Thank you so much for being such a great support through everything (including marathon training!!). Best of luck on your upcoming run. (Check out HER progress – and make a donation to, yet, another great cause if you can!!!)
- Monique: You inspire me with your Triathlon training. Every time I think I am tired, I think of you doing three times as much as me. GOOD LUCK! I know you’ll do great!
- Teresa: Thank you thank you thank you! Keep up the AMAZING job you’ve been doing with all of the many runs you have completed this year. I can’t wait to hear about your next one!
- Rachel: You’ll be doing one of these before you know. There’s too many of us not to convince you ;) – can’t wait to see the new digs!!!
- Dirk: Your donation was so generous. I am so grateful to be surrounded by so many caring people. I’m just too lucky.

Upcoming FUNdraisers Scheduled:

August 27, 2009 (THIS Thursday): Happy Hour at McFadden’s (Foggy Bottom Metro) starting at 6:00 pm. A 5 dollar cover will get you $2 domestics and $3 rail drinks until 9:00 pm – just tell them you are here for my HH. (Reserved tables down stairs by the bathroom)

September 22, 2009 (Tuesday): Have Lunch and/or Dinner at The Green Turtle (Gallery Place/ Chinatown Metro) and 10% of the days profits will go towards my fundraising goal. The more you eat and drink, the more money goes toward Cancer Research!!!

My Grace Is Ever Present

I can trip on a flat surface, slice my finger with a dull knife, or make a fool of myself in front of room full of people without even trying. It’s a gift really, I mean, slapstick comedians have to work hard at their craft, me, all I have to do is just walk down the street on any given day. It may not be immediately apparent, but stick around long enough and sure enough you’ll shake your head to yourself thinking why friends haven’t swaddled me in bubble wrap on a daily basis. Case in point, one early morning as I am sitting on the exam table at my physical therapist office finishing up one of my exercises, I lift my head slightly to let my PT know that I am done and to see what is next on the list of torturous movements they need me to complete. As my chin gets to about 90 degrees, the ball that was placed between my knees slips out, landing with a loud thud on the ground, then bounces onto the loosely attached wooden shelf under the exam table next to me, scaring the poor woman who was belly down, concentrating on HER exercises to the point where she uses her forearms to rear up on the table and quickly look back and forth to see what just happened. The ball then rolls the rest of the way across the room, bouncing off the floor to ceiling mirror, and finally coming to stop a few inches from treadmill. The ball is retrieved by, well, not me since my ankles were still constricted by the tight elastic band required for the exercise I was completing. So through out the whole scene (that happened in slow-mo through my eyes, but probably clocked around 8 seconds) I sat there, with a wide-eyed and apologetic look on my guilty face. Not 5 minutes later, I was finishing up my next task, when *zip-lop* the same elastic band that had caused me to sit motionless throughout the last debacle, snaps in half with a surprisingly loud crack, flinging itself again across the room, and landing with a loud *thud* on the Berber carpet 5 feet away. I stand, unharmed, frozen to the spot for a second, my trance breaking when Matt looks at me and says with his flat tone, “Well, you’re having a hell of a morning, aren’t you?” True story, Matt, true story. That was apparently their only band of that strength and my little legs destroyed it. Oops. It wouldn’t have been so bad if there weren't other witnesses, but, alas, everyone else stopped what they were doing to stare at my awkwardness. Awesome.

The run I mentioned I had to do in Florida this past weekend turned out not to be too bad. My brother and I mapped out a few possibilities the night before, and I decided to go with the one that did the most of the mileage on a trail. So, Saturday morning I rolled out of bed, quietly dressed and headed out the door before my brother (or the heat) rose. The trail didn’t have mile markers like I had hoped, but there were enough people out on the trail that I never felt lonely. Everyone was smiling and waving as they ran or rode by me, all happy to get up early to get a workout in. (Freaks.) The run went by without much excitement, though I did have one passing thought when I initially hit the trail, “Wait a sec…Florida has alligators and snakes, big ones, and I’m running on a wooded trail? What was I thinking! Hm, did that map show any water around here??? Oh, crap.” Luckily I did not see one gator, or snake or even many flies for that matter. Perfectly serene surroundings. Whew!

Although the majority of the Floridians just smiled and/or waved that morning, one older gentleman, who was out for a walk - picking up some of the trash on the trail as he went, approached me while I was doing a little mid-run stretch. There was no hello, or a My Name Is, starter sentence - he dove right in with, “You lift, as well as run, don’t you?” I had run by him a little ways back, so he didn’t take me completely off guard, but I still wasn’t sure what my answer, or this question, meant to him. Why he felt compelled to ask it. It wasn’t hurting anyone, so answered him, “Yes, I try to lift at least once a week.”
“Yeah (pausing and thinking to himself for a second) yeah, yeah. I thought so. You can tell by your shoulders. You look good, you look good.” Thanks old guy.

It’s a question I get almost every time I meet someone, though it has variations.
Variation 1: Did you do gymnastics? (Answer: no)
Variation 2: Were you a swimmer? (Answer: yes, but a very bad one)
Variation 3: Do you lift/ How much do you lift? (Answer: yes/ depends)

I do have a broad back for someone my size (most likely from swimming as a young teen), which, coupled with my teeny, tiny hips, can make me look like I’m a pretty serious lifter. I used to hate this about my body, but since completing my last marathon, I have really come to terms with the way I look. I am not, though, as strong as I may seem when taking a quick once over on me. Case in point, my workout with Lisa yesterday.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again - I love my friends. When I heard (or, rather, was reminded that) Lisa was headed back to her homeland of Sweden, I e-mailed her immediately to see if she wanted to catch a drink. After throwing a few ideas back and forth, she finally said, “Why don’t you come and do my kick boxing class, and then we’ll do some lifting afterwards and catch up.” Perfect. I had been wanting to do a kick boxing class for awhile, and since she was getting me into Georgetown Law’s super sweet gym for free, I was all but sprinting for the door. Oh, just to clarify, when she said “my kick boxing class” she was not referring to a class that she takes every week, or just a class at the gym she goes to, no, no, no - this was HER kickboxing class. The one she teaches every week, in addition to all of the other classes she teaches and clients she trains. Still, I thought, “no sweat. I can totally handle a kickboxing class.” Well, maybe I could have…if it was strictly a kickboxing class. After my 50th push-up (yes, more then half were “girl” push-ups), 9th minute jumping rope, and second stairwell run (with intertwining kick boxing moves - round houses, side punches, Criss-crosses, etc.) I was chalking this class up to more of a boot camp then anything else. Billy Blanks has nothing on Lisa. She kicked the ever-loving snot out of me, and - I’d do it again in a heart beat. It was exactly what my body needs on my days off from running - doing movements that in no way shape or form could be done while running, helping to develop the other muscles in my body to aid those that are used more frequently during the marathon. I was spent after the class, but Lisa was still ready to put some lifting time in. I conceded so that we would have an opportunity to catch up. Seeing as how she does this for a living, she was able to help me modify some of my movements so that my knee wasn’t bothered. Needless to say, after an hour long butt whipping with a half an hour of lifting on top of that, I’m gratifyingly sore today. The kind of sore that let’s you know you worked hard with out overdoing it.

On another note, I finally stopped hemming and hawing, and bought myself a running watch. No more guessing how long I have been out running for, or trying to speculate/ monitor my pace on solo runs. I wanted to get something with a heart rate monitor (feeling it will be especially helpful when I hit those elevations in San Fran, and want to keep my heart rate semi-normal. This will require me to know what my normal heart rate is before hand. Ah, planning ahead. Hopefully it’ll pay off). I bought the Polar F6. I am able to track time, heart rate, calories burned and I’m hoping many more things that I will learn about as soon as I crack the manual! Of course, not having read about it does not mean that I didn’t take it for a test drive. This past Tuesday I put all the settings needed into the watch (height, weight, age, and gender) so that it could calibrate the range where my heart rate SHOULD be, so that it can then yell at me, in high pitched beeps, when I get too low or too high and headed out for my run. I had been most nervous about the chest strap before actually buying the watch. I felt like I was already “strapped in” enough - what with my knee brace and water belt, and here I was, going to tack on yet another thing!? Ugh, really? But, what I found was that the heart rate belt fit neatly underneath my sports bra strap, and with a few minor adjustments, it fit like a glove. I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. As you can tell from the picture, the watch face is comfortably large so that you don’t have to spend too much time trying to focus on keeping your arm from jostling so that you can read the screen. I was able to take a quick peek down at my wrist and see how long I had been out there for. I didn’t figure out how to see my heart rate until I was stopped at a red light about a mile from my ending point, but as soon as it clicked on…“beep!beep!beep!beep!beep!beep!” My heart rate was 177 - which is apparently, waaaaay too high for my range. I knew my heart was going fairly fast that day - it was hot and I had done quite a bit of uphill in the previous two miles, but 177 - sheesh. I worked on keeping my pace even and a touch slower during the last mile, to cool down and give my poor heart a second to catch itself. I am now obsessed with find out what my heart rate is. Here are some readings I have taken so far:

Running = 156-177

Lisa’s Insane “Kick-Boxing” Class = around 160
Metro Ride Home = 79-80
Walking up Metro’s Escalator = 110

Online I read that the best time of day to take your resting heart rate is right when you wake up and before you get out of bed. This means I would have to go to sleep with the chest strap and watch on, so that before I got out of bed I could take the reading. And, you know I’ll do it. I’m sure the novelty of my little gadget will wear off evidentially, but for right now - it’s just a matter of time before I start wearing it 24/7.

A final note to say a Thank You! to City Sports (where my watch was purchased) for giving your customers with a gym membership 10% off on all of their purchases. That small discount saved me around $20.00! And THANK YOU Lisa - I’m sorry we didn’t get to hang out more. I’m going to miss you. Keep in touch - and good luck with school!