Boston 2013 -- From Beginning to End

As I sit down to share my experience at last weekend's Boston Marathon, I'm still not sure where to begin or where to end.  Do I focus only on what happened after 2:50pm on Monday and those that were injured and killed?  Do I talk about the hundreds of heroes that rushed into harm's way to help?  Do I recount all the good memories that were made in the days leading up to the marathon?  Is it disrespectful to share the details of my race?  If I don't talk about the race, does that let the terrorists "win" in some small way?

After sorting through all my emotions and feelings again and again, I still don't know which is the "right" thing to do.  So I'm going to do the only thing I really know how to do -- share my Boston experience from the (happy) beginning through the (horrible) ending.

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I arrived in Boston on Friday and was so excited to spend a child-free weekend with my husband, see good friends who live in the Boston area, meet new friends in person that I knew through social media and, lastly, experience all the hype and history that surrounds the infamous marathon.

Those who know me or have been following my story know that I was pushing my training to a new level for this race.  I had hired a coach who gave me detailed training plans each week and challenged me to run harder and faster than ever before (while also giving me more rest days than I've ever taken -- I learned so much about quality versus quantity in the last few months.)

My training had been going well and all signs pointed to a great race for me on Monday...until just one week before the race when I was out for an 8 mile run.  I was on a hilly, forested trail and just 1.5 miles into the run, my left knee started to hurt right underneath the knee cap.  It is common to get little niggles early in a run that go away within a mile or two so I kept running.  This one seemed to go away for a little while but then came back strong at mile 6 when I was racing downhill back towards my car.

Long story short, I ended up doing no running at all the rest of the week and spent all my time icing my knee and resting as much as possible.  On Saturday morning in Boston, my husband and I headed out for a 3 mile jog just to loosen my legs and hopefully boost my confidence in regards to my knee.  I ended up in pain just a half mile into the run and had to turn around and walk back to our friend's house, utterly dejected.

I did my best to put any negative thoughts about my knee aside and enjoyed the next two days in Boston with friends.

my first visit to Fenway 

my dear friend, Sarah, who was waiting at the finish line for me on Monday before getting paged to come to work at the ER

Sarah taught me all about April baseball and the importance of "beer gloves"

full of hope and excitement as we met for bagels on Sunday morning

Kate and I at the finish line

we walked past the infamous CITGO sign on Saturday...I got a rush of excitement when I realized the next time I would be this close to the sign would be at mile 25

I remember the soft pink glow of the sky as I first looked outside my hotel window early Monday morning.  The day had finally arrived!  I sent my husband one last text before leaving the hotel room (I had kicked him out to stay with friends the night before the race...I always sleep horribly and it only makes it worse when the person next to me, who doesn't have a race to run, is sleeping like a baby) telling him how nervous I was about my knee.

I met up with Kate and my college friend, Sara, in the early morning hours before the race and we all rode a bus together to Athlete's Village.  Other than a major wardrobe malfunction for Kate (thanks to her dog who likes to eat underwear and had left an enormous hole in her running tights...that she somehow failed to notice earlier), the three of us were amazingly stress-free and calm before the race.  

Kate's running tights...

pre-race hug with Sara in the starting corral

As I stood at the starting line, I looked around and took in all the sights and sounds surrounding me.  The excitement, anxiety, hope and anticipation was almost palpable.  None of us knew exactly what was in store for us that day -- you never really know how your body is going to respond physically, mentally and emotionally to 26.2 miles on any given day -- but none of us could have fathomed this would be a day that would forever be etched in our hearts for reasons having nothing to do with running.

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I had told my husband that I was planning to finish the race no matter what.  That I might be walking for long portions of it -- or limping along -- as my knee was going to dictate the race.  I resolved to start off slow and just take it one step at a time.  I planned to see him at our pre-arranged meeting spots of mile 9 and 16 and then at the finish line.  

If all went well and I had no knee issues whatsoever, I was hoping to run a 3:30 marathon.  As I assessed my chances that morning, I gave myself a 10% likelihood of this actually happening.  Suddenly, the race began and I cruised along at an easy pace on the initial downhill sections.  The miles slowly but surely ticked off one by one.  I waved enthusiastically at my husband and friends at mile 9 and continued on.  Another wave and a quick kiss from my husband at mile 16 before I hit the toughest part of the course -- the infamous hills from mile 17-21 that culminate with Heartbreak Hill.  

all smiles at mile 16

I trudged up and down what felt like endless hills after mile 17 and wasn't paying enough attention to know when I had actually finished with Heartbreak Hill.  I was too distracted by the hundreds of thousands of screaming spectators that were lining the course.  

I have run other "big" marathons in the past, most notably Chicago and NYC, but this was unlike anything I had ever experienced.  While the crowds at NYC are huge, I didn't always find them to be loud.  Boston was different from that perspective.  The spectators were literally screaming their encouragement the entire length of the course, not just along the famous Wellesley corridor.  I had brought my ipod along just in case I needed some extra motivation but found I didn't need it even once. I can't say enough good things about the people that came out to scream and yell their encouragement as well as offer anything from wet sponges to ice pops to oranges to keg stands.  (Yes, someone had a "free keg stands to runners" sign and a keg nearby!)

I did my best to run only by feel and was continually amazed that my knee remained pain-free.  And every glance at my watch told me I was running right on pace to reach my goal.  The only real annoyance during my run was the fact that I needed to go to the bathroom.  It was just a matter of when I would stop and whether or not I could make it the entire distance without running into a porta potty along the course.  (The downside of having no pre-race jitters was my inability to take care of the all-important pre-race poop...I know all of you runners reading this will understand!)  Ultimately, I gave in to the growing demand from my body and ran into a bathroom at mile 22.

The last few miles were a blur.  I distinctly remember finding myself with a huge grin on my face as I high-fived children and adults alike.  The roar of the crowd, while already deafening, continued to grow as I took a left turn on Bolyston street and saw the finish line looming before me.

I crossed the line and looked down to see a 3:30:30 on my watch.  A 5 minute PR for me on the first marathon since my 40th birthday on what is a difficult course.  I couldn't have been happier.  As I stumbled through the finish line corral, I collected a bottle of water, bottle of gatorade, protein bar, bag of food and a foil to keep me warm.  Lastly, someone put a finisher's medal around my neck and tears immediately welled up in my eyes.  I had done it.  All those months of hard work and I had reached my goal.  

As I gathered my bag from the baggage bus, I could hear my husband and Sarah yelling my name.  I exited the runner's-only area and was greeted with hugs and congratulations.

my biggest supporter

We chatted for a few minutes at the finish line and then started back towards our hotel.  It was a mile walk that led us through the Boston Common.  I was planning to take a quick ice bath and shower and then we were going to head out to celebrate.  

Just as we arrived at the hotel, Sarah received a text from the hospital where she works, alerting her to explosions at the finish line.  I was so confused.  I couldn't even process the words at first.  An explosion?  Two explosions?  The finish line of the marathon?!

Within minutes, my husband and I began to receive frantic texts and phone calls from friends and family that were worried about our safety.  I was immediately concerned for all the other friends I had running the race, their friends and family, and the thousands of other runners and spectators that were still out there.  Our attempts to check on others were impeded by the fact that the police had shut down cell towers in case more bombs were going to be detonated by cell phones.  

The anxiety only grew as we were told we should evacuate the city.  Sarah ended up having to run (literally) to the hospital as she couldn't find a taxi while her friend drove us out of the city and dropped us off at Sarah's house.  We ultimately heard back that all our friends were safe but our anguish and despair only increased as reports came back with casualties, stories of limbs being ripped from bodies, erroneous reports of additional bombs throughout the city and the knowledge that thousands of runners were separated from family and friends.  

The emotions were overwhelming and I found myself crying often over the next few hours as we sat at our friend's house and tried to comprehend what had just happened.  We couldn't help but think what if?

What if my knee hadn't held out and I had been still on the course and my husband had gone to stand with Sarah (at her spot between where the two explosions occurred)?  

What if we had decided to go back to the sidelines and cheer for our friends that were still out there?

What if my parents and kids had been with us (as we had planned at one point)?

What if Sarah had stayed a while longer instead of meeting us?

******************

on our way home -- never have I been so happy to see the sun rise

In the end, we were among the lucky ones.  So why is it that I feel so traumatized?  Why is it that when my friend, Marya, sends me a text asking simply "How are you?", I find myself suddenly crying?  Why is it that I still don't feel safe??

My heart is still a mix of emotions right now -- from gratitude that we were spared to heartbreak for those injured and killed to anger at the suspects to guilt that I was able to finish the marathon to fear that next time I will not be so lucky.

Whenever I have something I need to sort through in my heart or in my head, I go for a run.  Unfortunately, my body is deep in recovery mode and I am still not yet able to run.  I am not able to do the one thing that I so desperately need to do right now.

But I know that I will run again.  And I will run Boston again.  And I will volunteer at the finish line of an upcoming race.  And I will continue to be part of this amazing running community that I love so much.  

And Boston 2013 will forever have a place in my heart.  

Boston update

For anyone checking, wanted to let you know my husband and I are safe. We left the area 10 minutes before the explosions. I've heard from all friends that were running and know they are safe, too. We left our hotel and are at a friend's house outside of the city.

Many people were not as lucky and my thoughts and prayers go out to everyone. Never have I gone from such a high high to such a low low so quickly. So devastated by this news and the fact that people exist who want to hurt innocent people during such a joyous and fun occasion.

- Kristen

Boston Bound

The night before my early morning flight to Boston was not going exactly as planned. I had hoped to get to bed early, sleep for seven hours and still have time for a quick shower before the cab pulled up to my house at 6am. Instead, I found myself at 3am sleeping on the couch in my living room, scrunched up under a too-small blanket with my dog snoring loudly a few feet from my head. 

How I ended up on the couch was irrelevant by that point but my seven hours of sleep ended up closer to three or four. Oh well. As everyone knows, it is the night before the night before the race that really matters so here's hoping to a good night of sleep on Saturday!

Once the cab pulled up, the day began to get better. The quick 15 minute trip to the airport was uneventful and I walked in to a surprisingly quiet Portland airport right on time. Within minutes, I spotted Devon from Distant Runners and we began talking excitedly about the upcoming weekend as we made our way through security and to the departure gate for our non-stop flight to Boston. 

Once at the gate, however, I noticed an interesting phenomenon. Whereas most public places these days are overrun with people who eat too much and exercise too little, the passengers about to board the plane were an overwhelmingly fit group of people. There were people wearing warmup pants, running tights, old race shirts and new running jackets. People carrying multiple bottles of water, bagels, yogurt, fruit cups and bananas. And almost every single person was wearing running shoes. I was with my peeps!

I found myself sitting next to two people that were both running Boston. One had run it two previous times and the other had finished four Boston marathons. We chatted for a while and made a pact to allow everyone to use the bathroom as many times as they liked on the flight -- there would be no restrictions on hydration in our row! After a while, I turned on my kindle to do some reading and overheard them talking about pace. They were debating whether or not to start at a 6:30 pace (equivalent to a 2:50 marathon). Okay, so maybe they weren't my peeps after all but at least we spoke the same language. 

So now here I am, still on the plane as I type, with just over two hours until we land. My husband has been in New York for work all week and is also en route to Beantown. I can't wait to see him at the gate and give him a big Happy Anniversary hug! Then we are off to begin a long child-free weekend centered around the marathon.

I am so excited to experience the history surrounding this race -- the quad-killing downhill start, the screams of Wellesley, the brutality of Heartbreak Hill and the triumph of crossing the finish line. Although I have run a few famed marathons such as Chicago, NYC and MCM, I know this one will be special, in part because I know so many people running it this year. Kate, Amanda, Tia, Carissa, Holly, Christine, Dana, Devon and Sara are just a few of the friends I hope to see (or meet for the first time) in the next couple of days. Not to mention, I will be seeing Coach Rick, without whom I wouldn't be feeling nearly as confident. 

There is still so much that could go wrong between now and Monday afternoon. The weather could take a turn for the worse and we could have another hot year like last year, I could suffer through restless nights and arrive at the start line horribly sleep-deprived, my stomach could protest and I could end up spending significant amounts of time in the porta potty, the niggle in my left knee that has kept me from running since Monday could turn out to be something more, my pacing could be way off and I'll end up in a death march to the finish line... 

I think that is one reason I love the marathon so much -- because so many things could go wrong that it is almost a miracle when it all goes right! We can do everything possible for months in advance to prepare and it can still fall apart on race day for so many reasons. It takes not only lots of physical endurance, mental strength and commitment but a lot of luck to really pull off a great marathon. 

Here's hoping all of us running on Monday have a great race!

Anyone else heading to Boston this weekend? 

- Kristen

Running Naked

a little too naked for my taste!  (source)

Shoes? Check.

Shirt? Check.

Shorts? Check.

Ahhh...those were the days!  Although I wasn't part of the running boom that started in the 70's (I'm older than a lot of you but not quite that old...), I am sure anyone who was running back then remembers those days with at least some nostalgia.  It all seemed so simple and came down to putting your shoes on and heading out the door.  If you were lucky, you might be the proud owner of the newly-invented digital watch (although, I'm not sure it had a stopwatch functionality back then.)

Nowadays, many runners leave the house with not only shoes, shirt and shorts but with a Garmin, an ipod or iphone in a special carrying case, earphones, a heart rate monitor, a fuel belt (complete with water/electrolyte drink and gels, beans or chews), compression sleeves for arms and/or calves and possibly a strap on their lower legs to help combat runner's knee or IT band issues.

Obviously, that is a bit of an exaggeration but I'm sure a runner or two has been spotted with all of the above.

Until last fall, I ran with only an ipod and a regular Timex watch.  I would guesstimate my mileage on most runs or map it on google maps when I returned if I really wanted to come up with an idea of my pace. A few months ago, however, I finally bought myself a Garmin.  I am now, like so many others, addicted to glancing down at it constantly so that I can see how fast or slow I'm running.

While I love the convenience of a Garmin and the reams of data it provides (average pace, pace per lap or mile, elevation gain, etc.), I have realized how much I really don't like being so tied to the numbers.  I think being able to feel certain paces based solely on effort is an invaluable skill.  For me, the Garmin has caused me to go out too fast on many runs because I wanted to hit my goal pace in the very first mile instead of letting my body start out slow and naturally settle into the pace.  It causes my runs to be choppy as I find myself speeding up when I see I'm going too slow and slowing down when I'm going too fast...which is made all the more complicated by hills or weather that greatly impact effort, too.

All winter, I was looking forward to a half-marathon race in February and a 15k race in March as preparation for Boston.  I was anxious to see how my decision to hire a coach last fall and step up my training would impact my race times.  Unfortunately, I had to skip the half-marathon due to strep throat so I had only one race leading up to the marathon -- a 15k race on St. Patrick's Day.

The Shamrock Run in Portland is a huge race with over 40,000 runners and walkers participating in a number of different distances -- a 5k walk, 5k run, 8k run and 15k run.  The 15k route is a challenging one as it climbs up a long, steep hill for most of the first half of the race before plummeting back down towards the finish.  Most of my training is done in my pancake-flat neighborhood so I was concerned about how I would do on the hills.  I knew that I would be frustrated if I were to look down at my Garmin and see a pace much slower than I was hoping to run.

Elevation map...notice the almost mile-long stretch at 4.8%!

I decided to run this race entirely by feel.  I had some tentative time goals in mind and was curious to see how close I would come to my goals.  On a "flat and fast" marathon course (and with perfect weather, etc.), I believe I could run a 3:25 marathon right now.  But since Boston is supposed to be a hard course, I am targeting somewhere between 3:25 and 3:30.  So I plugged those times into the McMillan Running Calculator to see what it predicted for a 15k race.  According to McMillan, my 15k pace should be between 7:16 and 7:26 per mile if I'm capable of a 3:25-3:30 marathon.

I was nervous about running with no watch and no idea how fast I was running.  I assumed I would go out too fast, slow down too much on the hills and still not have enough left in my legs to take advantage of the downhill finish.  Although I did actually wear my Garmin so it would capture my mile splits, it was covered by my long-sleeve shirt and I honestly didn't look at it once the entire race.

So...how did it go??  I have to say I loved running by feel!  It felt so freeing to just listen to my body and push myself based solely on how my legs, lungs, heart and mind felt.  And my finishing time?  My time of 1:08:33 was at an average pace of 7:21 -- exactly in the middle of where I wanted to be!  The mile splits showed I started out a little conservative (which was perfect), slowed on the hills and then really pushed it on the downhill.

Mile 1 - 7:32
Mile 2 - 7:28
Mile 3 - 7:33
Mile 4 - 8:09
Mile 5 - 7:56
Mile 6 - 7:46
Mile 7 - 6:36
Mile 8 - 6:40
Mile 9 - 6:28
Last 0.3 - 6:16

I finished 8th out of 559 women in my age group (let's hear it for the over 40 crowd - ha!) and, more importantly, beat my previous time by 9 minutes.  It is so encouraging to know that I ran this same race one other time -- 10 years ago when I was 30 years old -- and was a full minute per mile faster this time around!

Post-race green smoothie (it was St. Patty's day, after all) and a cool finisher's medal that is a bottle opener

Now that Boston is less than two weeks away, I've started thinking a little about my race strategy for the marathon.  I don't want to go out too fast and yet the start is all downhill.  I'd like to run negative splits but the majority of the hills are in the second half.  Given these two factors plus the unpredictability of weather and the fact that I've never run this race is leading me to consider running Boston without my watch. Yes, it makes me a little nervous to think about trying to gauge my pace for 26.2 miles with no concrete feedback regarding my time.  I've put months of hard work, time and sweat into preparing for this race and it seems a little crazy to leave it all up to how I'm feeling during the race.  But at the same time, it sounds so liberating to just trust my body and my training.  I'll decide for sure in the days before the marathon but as of right now, I think I will go naked...

Have you run a marathon or other race with no watch?  Did you enjoy it or miss having feedback during your race?  Do you have any gear you would never run without??

- Kristen

What goes up must come down

"Did you see all that blood in the snow?" my husband asked me when he got off the chairlift and caught up to where I was waiting with our 4 year-old daughter, Mia.

"No, I must have missed it." I answered with disappointment because blood in the snow sounds somewhat exciting, for some sick reason.  Oh well, I thought and down the mountain we started once again with our little one practicing making her french fries and pizza shapes with her skis.  We were going to finish this run and then head into the lodge for some hot chocolate.

******************

Going back about ten days, my life has been quite a roller coaster.  Two weekends ago, I flew with my 12 year-old son, Ian, to North Carolina for the weekend to visit my college campus and take him to a Duke basketball game.  That weekend is deserving of a post all its own so I won't say too much about it now except to say it was one of the best weekends I can remember.  Some of the highlights were an amazing Duke win over Miami, a gorgeous morning run on my favorite running trail near Duke and, best of all, quality time with Ian.

Ian and I heading into the Duke basketball stadium

although it is flat in this picture, the total elevation gain of 2,300 feet in 10 miles of this trail about killed me

I came home from the weekend full of energy and ready to tackle my last few weeks of hard training before heading to Mexico for spring break and beginning my tapering for Boston.  I felt strong and confident.

I recently switched my running schedule around so that I would do all my long runs on Thursday mornings instead of Saturdays.  This allows me enough time to get in a long run plus a quick shower before picking up my little ones from preschool.  This change also frees up my weekend a little so that I can be available to take kids to ballet lessons and soccer games and my husband can play his soccer games, too.  

I woke up last Thursday to a beautiful, clear day and temperatures hovering in the low 40's.  Absolutely perfect running weather.  After dropping the three kids off, I drove back home and immediately set out on my run.  My run took me down to Portland's waterfront where there is a trail right along the river and no street crossings or traffic to slow me down.  I simply got in the groove and kept going.  

My right IT band started hurting a little around mile 15 and I was getting fatigued by the end but overall, it was a great run.  In fact, I finished my 20 miles faster than my goal marathon pace.  

[To be honest, I haven't really determined my goal for Boston yet but one of my main goals is to run a sub-3:30, which would be a 5 minute PR for me.  Although I now think I am capable of running a 3:25 or faster, I may still run Boston a little more conservatively and save a little energy for the Newport Marathon, which I am running on June 1st with one of my favorite new blogger friends, Kate, from So Cal Runner Gal.  Kate and I are targeting similar goals and this will be both of our first time running back-to-back marathons.  (Other things we have in common: Boston and Newport will be both of our 7th and 8th marathons, we both have a PR of 3:35, we are vegetarians, we are from Chicago, we have identical lists of favorite books...just to name a few!)]

I was feeling so confident after this run and was looking forward to the 15K Shamrock Run on March 17th to help determine my goal race pace.  Just about a month ago, I had to miss a half-marathon due to coming down with strep throat on the day of the race.  As disappointed as I was to miss that race, I knew I at least had the Shamrock Run to help me gauge my fitness.

All this brings me back to yesterday morning on Mt. Hood.  My brother and his fiance had offered to watch our 2 year-old daughter and bring Ian home from his soccer game while we took the Mia up to the mountain to ski.  I never thought once about getting injured while skiing as I have been skiing since I was 2 years-old without a single skiing-related injury.  Besides, we were skiing with our daughter -- what could possibly go wrong?!

John and Mia on the chairlift

On our very first run down the mountain, Mia needed a little more help than usual so I had her skiing between my legs.  I was bent over and holding her up while we made big, wide turns on the bunny slope.  Suddenly, she got her skis crossed and somehow she fell down and I fell on top of her.  I felt a sharp pain in my lower right leg as I landed on the sharp metal edge of her ski.  Although it hurt like hell, I focused on getting her back upright and didn't want to make a big deal about falling.  But, damn, that really hurt my leg for a few minutes!  

An hour later, we were on our fourth run of the day when my husband mentioned the blood he had seen.  We skied down to the lodge and as we were taking off our skis, I said excitedly "Look!  There's some blood in the snow right there!"  And I took another step and suddenly a much bigger pool of blood appeared in the snow.  "What the...??" I murmured as I looked down to see I was dripping blood off my ski boot.  I slowly pulled up jut my ski pants and was greeted with an awful sight.  

Okay...most runners I know have a fairly strong stomach.  And if you are also a mom, then you have seen your share of gross things as well so I'm going to go ahead and post the picture of my leg...

Apparently, the sharp edge of Mia's ski had cut completely through two layers of ski pants, my winter running tights and my thick wool ski sock before cutting into my leg.  I had lost a good amount of blood by this point...both in my ski boot and then all over my clothes and the outside of the boot.  I had two major questions when I saw my leg -- how was this going to affect my training and how in the hell did I ski with my leg like this for the past hour?!

After getting medical attention on the mountain and then in the ER back in Portland for stitches, I have my answers.  Supposedly, I can run as soon as I feel up to it but that definitely won't be today or likely tomorrow.  Which means I'm taking almost a full week off with no running after last week's long run.  And I'm not sure what it means for my race this weekend or for my Boston training.  As for the second question, all I can say is that I'm a woman and a mom.  I think that automatically makes me tough.

I seem a little too happy here

the doc who stitched me up specialized in plastic surgery so he was able to do mostly internal stitches

leaving the ER

In all my "toughness", I declined the vicodin that they recommended I take for sleeping last night.  Not my best decision as I woke up in a lot of pain but I'm hoping it gets better quickly and I can run again soon.  Besides not running, I am most upset about ruining my favorite pair of lululemon running tights -- those things are not cheap!! Here's hoping everything takes a turn for the better once again this week.

Have you run back-to-back marathons?  If so, how did they go?
Have any non-running injuries sidelined you?
Ever had stitches?  This was my first time!

- Kristen

Down but not out

When I first started reading running-related blogs last summer, I couldn't believe there existed a whole community of women out there who were as obsessed with running as I was.  I found women who were running 70, 80 or 100 mile weeks...women who were balancing motherhood and marathon training...women who held demanding jobs while racing every month...women who were married, single, childless or had twelve kids and a goal of qualifying for the Olympic Trials...women who supported one another, shared advice and sympathized when another one was injured...women who ran long or short or fast or slow...  Despite their differences, all these women shared a common love for lacing up their shoes and hitting the roads or trails for mile after mile in rain, sun and snow.

These women inspired me.

I celebrated my big 40th birthday last fall and always assumed my fastest days were behind me (not that I ever considered myself "fast").  However, connecting with these women gave me the drive and desire to really push myself.  Reading about their training and their dedication and all their various workouts lit a fire in my belly.  I decided to follow the lead of many of the women and hired a coach who would give me a weekly training plan and offer advice and feedback on my workouts.  A coach who would help me realize whatever potential was still untapped within me.

At first it seemed strange to even think about hiring a coach.  That was only for collegiate or professional or at least very fast runners, right?  Why would a 40 year-old, stay-at-home mother of three need a coach?  And how, exactly, could a coach who lived in Boston help me with my running?!  Well, basically, he provides me with an online training log that lists what workouts I need to do each day -- how many miles to run and at what pace(s), when to do cross-training along with various tips and advice about my form or what to focus on for each specific run.  Additionally, he provides feedback after I log each run and he tailors the next week's workout based on how my running is progressing.  He congratulates me and recognizes my effort when I complete a great run and encourages me when I have a difficult run.  And he answers any questions I have that are related to running.  (He also holds a PR of 2:33 and has completed 31 marathons, among other running accomplishments!)

my online training log

So here I am at almost the end of February with a few months of training behind me and the Boston marathon looming ahead of me.  I spent some time earlier today looking through the last few months of training logs -- at my runs, my paces, my 800m repeats -- and tried to determine what I have gained from all of this.  Have I gained endurance?  Yes.  Have I gotten faster?  Yes.  Have I learned how to run a proper track workout?  Yes.  Have I improved my running form?  Yes.  But the most important thing I have gained in the last few months is confidence.

I was hoping to put it all to the test a couple of weeks ago with my first race of this training cycle -- a local half marathon here in Portland.  I had a few friends who would also be running the race and was so excited to see them and to run this race.  Despite the difficult course, I fully expected to run a PR and to use it to help determine a realistic goal for Boston.

But then all my plans changed.  I woke up the day before a race with a sore throat.  I was almost convinced it was all in my head -- sort of like the taper madness and race jitters that are so familiar to marathoners in the week or two before they toe the line.  As I was tossing and turning the night before the race, still awake way past 1am and barely able to swallow, I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't be running the race.

Turns out I had strep throat.   After what was already a cutback week in my training, I was forced to take even more time off the next few days as I did everything I could to recover.

just some of the things that helped get me healthy

I was disappointed about having to miss the race and I began to doubt that I really was improving at all.  As I laced up my shoes and headed to the track for my 8 x 800m workout later that week, I was convinced it would be a disaster.  Surprisingly, I couldn't have been more wrong.  Not only did I run my fastest average 800m times of the training cycle but they were so consistent and were all within a couple seconds of one another.  And they didn't even feel that hard.  I followed up that workout with several more good ones the rest of last week and this week, too.

With just over seven weeks until the marathon, I am really starting to get excited.  There is something very special about the anticipation of race day.  So much can go wrong in all the days and weeks leading up to the race and, even on race day, so much is out of our control.  But the unknown only seems to contribute to the beauty of it all.  And it makes that perfect race, when you do experience it, even sweeter than you thought possible.  I have high hopes that Boston is going to be very sweet.

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In the meantime (i.e. in my life outside running), I have been keeping busy and enjoying some warm-for-Portland-in-the-wintertime weather.

yes, "warm weather" is all relative...we still have to wear jackets

I also got to babysit my littlest niece, Kennedy, overnight last weekend.  My little girls loved having their 4 month-old cousin for a sleepover and I loved having a sweet, little baby who went back to her parents the next day.  :)

helping with "tummy time"

sleeping beauty

Hope everyone has a great weekend!!

Do you think it is possible to get faster in your 40's?!

Have you ever worked with a running coach? If so, did it help you accomplish your goals?

Have you ever run a "perfect" race???

- Kristen

I'll be bald or fat but not both

If I close my eyes, I can still hear the sound of her laughter.  An infectious laughter that was sure to be accompanied by her huge smile.

I first met Jen my freshman year of college.  We were taking a break from an endless game of quarters at the Sigma Chi dorm and were sitting on large bench outside, enjoying the warmth provided by the Indian summer in North Carolina.  We talked for several hours...about everything from college classes to roommates to boys.  And just like that, we became friends.

Almost as quickly, it seemed, college was over and I was living back in Portland, Oregon.  This was before the days of my myspace or facebook or even email (yes, I remember life before email) so it was much harder to keep in touch with everyone after graduation.  Over the ensuing years, all my friends were going to graduate school or being promoted or getting married and having babies.  In early 2003, I remember hearing the news that Jen had recently married a wonderful guy named Dave Linn and was living in New York City.  Unfortunately, the next news I heard about Jen was almost a year later when I found out she had been diagnosed with a rare and often fatal form of cancer called sarcoma.

Jennifer Goodman Linn

As you might expect, this story doesn't have a happy ending.  Jen passed away in July of 2011 at the age of 40.  But the real story here is what Jen did after receiving her diagnosis in December of 2003, one short year after she and her husband had gotten married and were beginning their lives together.

Over the ensuing years, Jen fought her cancer.  And she fought it hard.  She endured at least eight rounds of chemotherapy to shrink the tumors and six surgeries to have them removed.  But the cancer kept returning.

"I'll be bald or fat but not both." Jen so famously said this to her doctors after her first surgery when she asked to have a stationary bike brought into her room at the hospital and was about to begin chemo treatments that would lead to her losing her hair.

Always thinking of others, Jen wanted to give something back to the doctors at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center who had helped her through her initial treatment.  As someone who loved spin classes, Jen and her husband set up a fundraiser at their local Equinox gym with a goal of raising $10,000 for rare cancer research.  They raised $250,000 that first year.  Jen's charity was officially founded in 2007 as Cycle for Survival and since that time, it has raised over $25.1 million for rare cancer research (with 100% of funds going directly to research).

Cycle for Survival has expanded from the single Equinox gym in NYC where Jen first hosted the event to 10 cities nationwide on 5 different days and 13,000 riders.  I was honored to be part of a team last February in NYC with three other women who were also Jen's friends from college.  It was the first year of the event since Jen's passing and it was both an emotional time and a time for us to celebrate Jen.

Jen riding in Cycle for Survival

riding in memory of Jen (February 2012)

There isn't enough time or space for me to write about all of Jen's accomplishments...her appearances on the Today show or her interviews with the Wall Street Journal and New York Times or the awards she won or the thousands of people she inspired with her life.  For anyone interested, you can learn all about Jen's life and legacy from her You Fearless website.

Or, if you'd like to be entertained, you might want to watch this video of Jen celebrating and dancing on her 40th birthday -- a birthday that so many women dread.

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Jen believed anything was possible if you lived a life without fear.  "What I once viewed as obstacles, I now see as opportunities."  Imagine what we could do if we lived life with this perspective.

Jen has been on my mind lately as Cycle for Survival events are taking place all over the country this month.  I've been thinking about Jen and trying to identify what I am afraid of in my life.  How I can live my best life and how I can be fearless.

What are you afraid of? 

- Kristen

Lose Yourself

I was staring down the track yesterday, about to run my last 800 repeat when Eminem’s Lose Yourself came on my iPod.

Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity

To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment

Would you capture it or just let it slip?

I paused for one more second to let the words sink in and then accelerated and started my stopwatch to time my eighth and final repeat. 

Yes, perhaps a little dramatic to relate this song to my track workout but I was willing to do whatever it took at that point to push through the last half-mile of my fast repeats. 

Yesterday was a tough day at the track for me.  After last week’s post about learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable, I really have been taking my own words and living by them.  I've been getting outside in the freezing cold (for Portland) weather and pushing myself as hard as I can.  I ran my best track workout of this training season last Wednesday and followed it up with another hard workout on Saturday and one on Monday.  By Monday afternoon, however, I was completely spent.  As in, lie-down-on-the-couch-for-two-hours-in-the-middle-of-the-day spent.  Something that I never do.  Not even after 20 mile runs.

Just one of the many beautiful sights from Saturday's chilly run

I started to think I was on the verge of overtraining and began to doubt myself, definitely not a good mindset to have when headed to the track yesterday morning.  I began with a 1.5 mile warm-up jog to a nearby high school track and started my first 800.  It.Was.Awful.  My legs felt so sluggish and tired.  Immediately upon finishing my first repeat, I started playing mind games familiar to all runners.  Instead of running 8 x 800, I could run just 2 x 800 and then run 3 “fast-ish” miles before heading home.  This way I would still be running the same total miles.  Makes sense, right?!  Runner’s logic, for sure.

After two 800’s, I decided I could quit after three because then I would at least be close to halfway done.  Once I had finished the third one, I had to do one more and make it to halfway.  Then I would run two fast miles before heading home, or so my mental argument went.  Long story short, I found myself staring down the track before my eighth and final 800 when the Eminem’s lyrics had me convinced that finishing my last repeat was the key to my success.  Ha! 

I followed up the repeats with one “fast” mile and then jogged home.  Honestly, I was surprised that I won that mental battle with myself on the track.  And my 800 times weren’t really that horrible…just not what I wanted them to be. 

I returned back home and made my post-run smoothie -- a tasty blend of frozen bananas, frozen pineapple, cucumber, spinach and Vega One protein powder.  I then tried unsuccessfully to sit in a cold bath while drinking the chilly smoothie before giving up and taking a hot shower instead.  But while I showered and got ready to pick up the little ones from preschool, I reflected on my workout and was immensely proud of myself for finishing when my body was screaming at me to quit.  And I thought about the last words of Eminem's song...

You can do anything you set your mind to

What kinds of tips or tricks do you use to get through a tough workout?  Do you have something specific you think of to help motivate you?  

What about favorite songs to help motivate you??

- Kristen

Becoming comfortable with being uncomfortable

When people first find out I like to run, they often say things such as "I hate to run" or "I wish I could run but I tried it and just couldn't do it" or other similar comments.  They often say it is just too hard.  If I ask a few more questions about their running, it is almost always the case that they are running at a pace that is simply not sustainable for any length of time and leaves them out of breath and miserable.

If they ask me for advice, I usually tell them to start by slowing down and running at a pace where they are comfortable enough to carry on a conversation fairly easily.  I really do believe that so many people who claim to hate running are simply trying to run too fast.  And by slowing down, they may find they actually enjoy running and will become a runner themselves.

Anyone who has been running for any period of time most likely has that pace where they feel they could run for hours on end, enjoying a conversation with a fellow runner friend as if they were both sitting in a coffee shop or out for a drink.  I know I have that pace...that pace where 30 seconds faster feels too fast and 30 seconds slower feels to slow.  My nice, comfortable pace.

I also have found myself running many, many miles on the treadmill over the past few years.  If it is raining or cold or dark outside...to the treadmill I go.  We have a TV in our "gym" that has Netflix and I have wireless headphones so I can listen without having to blast the volume.  There are windows I can open to help control the temperature, a window ledge for my water bottle within an arm's reach and a bathroom a mere 30 feet away.  I am definitely very comfortable running on the treadmill.

Is there anything wrong with wanting to be comfortable?!

Not necessarily.  My problem is that I find myself wanting to be comfortable way too often.  If I'm not training for a specific race, I don't ever push the pace on my runs.  I don't venture outside in the rain or cold or heat.  I don't run long distances.  And, as a result, I don't grow and improve as a runner and I miss out on so many opportunities.

I am currently in the midst of training for the Boston marathon.  This will be the first spring marathon I have ever run and, consequently, the first time I have had to do 20 mile runs in the middle of winter.  In order to be prepared for Boston, I need to run hills (the incline on our treadmill doesn't work well) and I need to run outside and experience the pounding of the pavement on my legs.  I also need to be incorporating more speedwork -- tempo runs, track workouts and strides.

All this means that I have forced myself outside of my comfort zone many times already the past couple of months -- into the rain, the wind, the cold, the snow and onto the track for 800's and mile repeats.  I have dreaded some of these runs, such as yesterday's when the temp was in the high 20's and snow flakes were swirling in the air and I had a tough 10 miler scheduled.

What I have found the past couple of months has surprised me.  I have actually enjoyed being uncomfortable.  I have loved the feeling of pushing myself and feeling my body respond...of slipping and sliding on a snowy trail but sticking with it for the entire run...of feeling the cool rain soak me to the core while realizing I have a huge grin on my face...of timing myself on my 800's and seeing those times dropping.

I am learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.  

And, even better, I am enjoying it!  My "comfortable" pace continues to drop as a result of the work I'm putting in each day.  The dread of heading outside in tough conditions has almost disappeared as I know how much I'll love being outside once I get going.  In order to get my run in this morning, I had to run on the treadmill while the kids were still sleeping and I found myself wishing I could be outside in the dark and cold.

As I was thinking about how much I've grown the last few weeks, I realized how much this lesson applies to not just running but life in general.  So many people avoid situations that make them uncomfortable.  They steer clear of settings where they will find themselves with people of a different religion or race or sexual preference or socioeconomic status.  Or they avoid trying something new or taking a risk with something that is outside of their comfort zone.

Being uncomfortable doesn't have to be overly challenging or painful or difficult. In my case, it was as simple as getting outside for a run in the rain. Or pushing the pace when normally I wouldn't. For others, it could be as simple as taking that first step...whether that is the first step of a run or the first step in making a change in their lives or embracing someone different than ourselves.

Do you have a comfortable pace?  In what way do you push yourself out of your comfort zone, either in running or in life?

- Kristen

Living with Intention

Gosh, it has been a long time since I've written anything!  So much has happened in the past few weeks... My oldest daughter turned 4 just before Christmas and she continues to amaze me with her ability to wear pink from head to toe.  Although, technically, she is wearing purple on her toes, not pink.  I finally relented and painted her toe nails for the first time ever last week -- a sparkly purple color -- and I caught her licking her toes later that same day as she thought they might taste as good as they looked.

it appears my younger daughter is following in her sister's (pink) footsteps...

a very excited (one-eyed) birthday girl

The day after my daughter's birthday, we began the Christmas celebration with a house full of friends and family.  We hosted everyone at our house for three nights in a row and I was more exhausted at the end of it than I have ever been at any point during marathon training.  My in-laws were staying with us and my poor mother-in-law ended up doing a huge amount of the cooking and cleaning for me.  She worked until she was (literally) sick and boarded the plane home with a fever.  I only hope she will not be scared from any future visits!  I love you, mom, and couldn't have done it without you!!

my mother-in-law...a.k.a. the woman who saved Christmas for me

most of the rest of us

Christmas was followed by a week of vacation in a snowy winter wonderland with all the peeps pictured above.  Had so much fun skiing, sledding, running on snowy trails, playing poker, soaking in the hot tub and just being together.

and, yes, apparently you have to hold your arms up when happy

On the second to last night of vacation, 2012 quietly slipped into the history books as a new year began.  (It was especially quiet for me.  I climbed into bed with my girls at 10pm in order to get them to go to sleep...of course, it was me who fell asleep first and woke up to a new day and new year!)

The upside to going to bed early (and sober) on NYE is that you get to start the year off feeling rested, refreshed and ready for all the day (and year) has to offer.  I celebrated with a snowy 10 mile run in 10 degree weather.  It was cold out but the sun was blindingly beautiful and caused snowflakes to sparkle and dance with each passing breeze.

Although I've never been big on resolutions, I do always feel a new year brings with it all kinds of possibilities.  My head was full of those possibilities as I was silently crunching through the snow that morning.  I returned from my run full of hope, full of happiness and full of love.  Love for my friends, my family, my life and even myself.

Without a doubt, there are a lot of areas of my life where I could do better...from being a better parent and wife to being more generous with my time and resources to being more compassionate and forgiving.  The list is long, for sure.  But instead of making an actual list of resolutions, I like to take the positive energy that I get from life (and, often, from running) and focus on living each day to the best of my ability.

Living with intention.

Maybe that's the easy way out.  If I don't make a list, I can't fail to achieve anything, right?

But I like the challenge of waking up every day and trying to be the best that I can be that day.  Many days I will mess up.  I will yell at my kids or hold a grudge or disappoint a friend or tell a lie or quit in the middle of a difficult run.  I'm sure there will never be a perfect day.  The beautiful thing, however, is that tomorrow is always a new day and tomorrow I can begin again in my quest to become the best version of myself.  And best of all, when you live the best version of yourself, you inspire others to do the same.

Do you make resolutions?  

- Kristen