Examining my path

If all goes according to plan, I will be finishing my quest to run in all 50 states in June or July of 2019.  I have other quests, of course...the Canadian Provinces and the counties in Wisconsin.  But a few years ago I did a sprint triathlon (not a relay) and have decided I would like to do another...but I want to do this one with more guidance than a book or my own guesswork.  I started looking into a coach, and have chosen one, I am spending a lot of time thinking about my path.  What do I want?  What am I willing to do? What is possible?

I have come to the conclusion that that last one is not the right question.  I know any number of people who will tell me that I can do anything I put my mind to and that nothing is impossible.  They mean well, I know, and are trying to be motivating.  I also know that pretty much all of us can do more than we think, and we can accomplish big things if we work hard (this is not the same as being able to do anything we put our minds to, btw). 

The real question here is, what are my priorities? And having identified those, what is it that I want and am willing to do? I am still working through this...and will probably continue to do so through my first months with my coach (I start in September). But this blog explores where I am with all of this now.  

I think people pursue recreational athletics for a lot of reasons, and I share some of those reasons with people...but I very decidedly do not share some of the common ones that I have read about.  My path is different from many, but I am not lost. Conveying what my path is, and what I want it to be, is now my task as I approach this coaching relationship. It is a coach's job to help you along your path...but you need to be able to tell them what that path is and where you want to go.  

Perhaps I should start by defining what it isn't...

It is not for the huge challenge. To be 100% honest, my life is challenging enough. For the last 18  years, I have been the primary family caregiver for a family member...my daughter.  She is doing reasonably well these last few months, and she lives in assisted living, so it isn't a 24/7 job physically, but the emotional component cannot be ignored. I also live with a couple of chronic illnesses, that are well handled, but require some energy. I am not saying "poor me" here...just saying that I am not looking for challenge for the sake of overcoming challenge. 

It is not to prove something to the world. I am 61 years old, and the older I get the less I care what the world thinks of me.  Soon I will be that little old lady in the Jenny Joseph poem who decides to, ".. wear purple with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me," (because she likes to and doesn't care what others think). Of course I am pleased if people say they admire my work or are inspired by something I said or did.  It is nice to be appreciated.  But I no longer set out to be admirable, if that makes any sense. 

It is not to win.  Or rather not to win in the traditional sense.  For me every time I toe the start line is a win...every time I hit the finish line is certainly a win.  You can tell by the look on my face when I finish a race that, that is truly winning.  Do I ever place?  Occasionally.  Do I like it when I do? Of course.  But it isn't the point.  Being out there is. 

Proof that finishing=winning

And here are some things it is....

Getting and staying fit is one motivation for my journey.  I'll admit to not being the best in terms of my diet, but working out still helps maintain better blood sugar..and keeps me stronger (if not as thin as I'd like).  There is still a tremendous difference from when I started...and I want to keep building on that.  

This is where I started!

Enjoying what my body can do is an another important factor. For a lot of my life, I have been concentrated on what I can't or shouldn't do....starting with problem hips, later a banged-up knee and a less than perfect back and of course just getting older.  I don't know how many times that I was told by both medical professionals and concerned family and friends that I couldn't or shouldn't do something.  I bought it for a long time.  But then I decided that I'd be conservative, but I would try.  I found that I had to be a little careful not to push too hard too soon, but it was miraculous how good it felt to move and sweat. And as I go through phases of faster and slower, I am still grateful for these feelings. 

Just preparing myself to succeed :)

Having fun though, is my main goal.  That means I wear costumes, build relay teams and do goofy stuff. But it also means enjoying the feeling of moving in a group environment.  I will never beat myself up for not being competitive. But I would not be happy if I didn't pursue my race days, with the same intensity and passion that my grandchildren exhibit on the playground.

...with all the passion and intensity that entails!

This may sound like I'm not interested in working hard, but I am and I will..and I'm looking forward to seeing what this year brings. 

An angel in my pocket

My pocket angel

The last few weeks have been very eventful.  Some events were good and some were of the worst kind, and this is the story of how some of those events came together.

Our Annie

Event #1...The worst

Wednesday evening, May 30,  while watching TV, I received a message on my phone.  It was the coach of my triathlon team, The Prairie Athletic Tri Team of Sun Prairie, WI sending a message to the team.  One of our members, Annie Rubens, had been in a bike accident while on a training ride and was in critical condition. She hit a pothole and was thrown, hitting her head.  She was with a group and an ambulance was called immediately. Our coach was asking for prayers...and of course she got those...as well as a team that came together in an incredible way to support Annie's wife and family.  Though my schedule did not allow me to participate beyond prayers, it was heartening to know that things were being taken care of.  When we went to bed that night, Annie had had one surgery to relieve pressure and though things were still dire, we had hope.

But when we woke there was news of a second surgery and continued brain swelling.  Things were obviously dire.  By mid-day the news went out that there had been a massive brainstem bleed, the doctors felt this was non-survivable and that Annie would be removed from life support later in the afternoon per her advance directive. We were told that if we wished to say good-bye we should come now. I could not get away, but planned a good-bye of a different kind as soon as I could find a few minutes. Annie passed into another realm at about 4:30 in the afternoon on Thursday May 31.

Any death can diminish a group.  But hers leaves a gaping hole.  Annie was a natural cheerleader, encouraging others as easily as most people breathe. She had introduced many, many of her teammates to the Ironman bike loop...and cheered them in the pool or through the jitters of open water swimming.  And not just on our team either.  She was also our unofficially official photographer, gently bossing us into appropriate positions for group photos. "No cleavage, no bunny ears!"  and posting candid photos in a popular "caption this" on our team page. "Photos or it didn't happen," was a frequent refrain.

Not only our team, but the group she was riding with, the other triathlon teams in the area, as well as numerous running and other athletic teams in the area have come together as #oneteam to celebrate her.  And all of us are striving as much as possible to #belikeAnnie.

Event #2...Also not so good

On June 1, I was off to Boulder for the Skirt Sport Ambassador retreat and the 10k at the SS 13er.  I arrived in Denver to the news that my daughter was having problems. And before the day was over she had been admitted to the hospital.

Fortunately my Mom and sister-in-law were willing and able to help her (and me) out and see her until I was back on Monday.  It is not so unusual for Melanie to have brief hospital admits...but it was just another worry on my plate as I entered into a much anticipated weekend.

She was well taken care of and released shortly after I got home, but her being sick certainly didn't do anything to relieve the emotional heaviness I was carrying.

Event #3...Really Good

The much anticipated weekend was the Skirt Sport Ambassador Retreat in Boulder, CO.  It included a Friday night cocktail hour, award ceremony and fashion show, A Saturday morning workshop with speakers, a team building thing, yoga and more...and the Skirt Sports 13er, 10k and 5k on Sunday.

Our skirt encounters started before we ever got to Boulder as I found myself introducing myself to people at the rental car counter and taking pictures with people I had never met at a scenic overlook near Louisville.

Had a meet up with skirt sisters before I ever made it to the retreat!

After we checked in to the motel, we were off to take a huge bag of gently used running gear to the "mothership" store to donate for the Running Start program. And, of course, have a shopping spree to fill the spot the donation had taken up in our suitcase.  While we didn't manage to fill the WHOLE space, we had a lot of fun looking and trying on styles that we were a bit afraid to order without trying on...and we did leave with a good number of new skirts.

Later Glenda dropped me off for the Friday evening retreat event while she set out on a short hike and photo practice session.  The evening event was fun.  I settled in with a glass of wine and began chatting with others.  Since it was my first time, I was a little shy (despite appearances, I am actually not entirely comfortable in large groups...especially those I don't know), but soon I was talking to several others.  Everyone was friendly and welcoming. The food and wine were very good and the program ranged from emotional to hysterical.

I can't write every detail but for me the most emotional were the tribute to a skirt sister lost to cancer this year (particularly as I came with the fresh loss of Annie weighing heavy) and Nicole DeBoom's description of her winning of the Ironman Wisconsin, but being there all alone...and how that was one of the things that led her to the idea of women being there for each other. which is so ingrained in the Skirt Sports culture.   I could picture her race as all the places she mentioned were very familiar to me...and I think that made the story even more powerful.

The most fun had to be a toss up between the awards (which hit just the right tone) and the fashion show.  Of course I enjoyed seeing the new product lines and hearing about the award winners, but more than that I enjoyed the atmosphere.  There is nothing quite like the kind of goofy, unselfconscious rowdiness that ensues in a group of supportive women, with no men around.  It was a blast!

Saturday morning was equally good.  All three speakers were inspirational as they shared their stories.  I particularly liked Mirna Valerio's talk about her journey. What a personality and what an inspirational athlete! Our final speaker was Colleen Cannon, former pro-triathlete and founder of Women's Quest.  She gifted each of us with a pocket angel like the one pictured above.

We also had a team building exercise in which we were broken into groups for a "Shark Tank" game, where we were to design a new product and pitch it to a panel.  The ideas went up for an online vote and the winning team got prizes and a possibility of having their product produced.  My team did not win...but it was a blast. 

All in all I think I would do this again next year...hopefully starting in a better frame of mind. 

Event #4...Positive in the end!

The final event of that weekend was the Skirt Sports 13er/10k/5k, a mostly women's race.  Glenda did the 13er and I did the 10k.  It was sort of emotional for both of us.  It was our first race after Annie's death and we were missing a tribute to her at a race at home. But we decided to honor her the best we could.  We got a sharpie and marked ourselves with #belikeAnnie and vowed to encourage others along the way as Annie did.  And to race like we meant it...also an Annie thing to do. 

I had discussed a race plan with my coach, and he told me to start out very slow and then pick it up later only if I felt OK.  This is because I am a flatlander and would not have time to fully acclimate to the altitude.  I didn't want to get an oxygen debt early on. As we started uphill for the first mile, I soon saw that there was not going to be any easy that was TOO easy (and I was not alone).  I tried to concentrate on encouraging others. But it was a struggle.

About 3/4 of a mile in someone said to me, "I have to ask, who's Annie?"  I explained about her.  The woman told me she was sorry for my loss and we went on.  A few seconds later, there was a tap on my shoulder.  It was the same woman. She handed me her pocket angel and said, "I never carry these things, but today I made an exception.  Now I know why.  I need to give it to you.  You need it more than I do." I thanked her through tears (and oddly I had left my own pocket angel in the hotel...now I have 2).  She said she didn't mean to make me cry, but I said tears were cleansing...I hugged her and we went on. But I felt Annie was there with me, and that I needed to soldier on like I meant it, whether I walked or ran.  I resisted the urge to turn around at the 5k point (I really did struggle with the altitude) and decided that I would make sure to enjoy the scenery and the moment.  

Although Glenda and I were running different distances, our courses overlapped.  Much of the course was on the top of a Mesa with incredible views.  The rest of the course was nice, but the middle section on the Mesa was breathtaking.  Just before we ran from the scenically-perfect-photo-op to the less spectacular, but still nice but not quite as scenic part Glenda and I crossed paths.  She said "quick, do you have your phone?"  and I panted "back pocket."  She helped me get it out and said, "pictures or it didn't happen!" and we took a selfie with that spectacular background.  The timing couldn't have been better if Annie had gently bullied us into position herself. 

We happened to be in the same place at the same time "pictures or it didn't happen"

Glenda then went on to finish the race first in her age group.  She was also the first "flatlander" to finish. The only women to finish before her were from the mountains of Colorado and Wyoming. When she had caught her breath, she trotted back a half a mile or so to run in with me.  I told her during that last mile that our speaker Colleen Cannon had said her personal motivational song was the Indiana Jones theme and that seemed like an appropriate song to get me across the finish line.  We actually sang it a little and I said I was going to belt it out when I was finishing...but of course there was music at the finish so I mostly just sang it in my head.  We crossed the finish together.  There were hugs between us and with Nicole DeBoom (Skirt Sports founder).  And as we left, there was another hug from a skirt sister who had seen something I had written about Annie and had been looking for me and waiting for my finish JUST so she could hug me. It seemed fitting somehow to be surrounded by supportive women (and support them too) while dealing with thoughts of Annie, one of the most supportive people I have ever known. 

A challenging race in many ways...but a happy finish!

I was the final finisher in the 10k, I really did struggle with emotion and the altitude. But I also cheered others, took pictures and finished like I meant it.  And though my time and pace were pretty abysmal, this was one of the best races I ever did and I am grateful for the experience.  Do I really think Annie was up there somewhere manipulating our meetings and reminding me of the lessons I already knew?  I don't know...but I had an angel in my pocket and #belikeAnnie in my heart and that's good enough for me. 

Stand by me...Getting it done together

Two vans, Twelve Runners, 200ish miles, just under 35 hours...Team "Will Run for Spotted Cow" does Ragnar Chicago to Madison

This is our whole crew minus team captain Lisa who was not feeling well and missed the finish meet-up

The story begins months and months ago when Fleet Feet Madison and Sun Prairie Running Team friends Christian and Amy Borchardt invited us to join their team for the Ragnar Relay in May.  Because they had switched the traditional direction of this race to run from Chicago to Madison rather than the other way (which meant going home to sleep after) and we had been contemplating doing one of these some day, we were not too difficult to convince. 

There were a few bumps in the road as we struggled to figure out who was running what distances (I was struggling and needed fairly low distance...and to know so I could train), which van, and other logistics. But we hung in, and concentrated on what might be fun about it. 

A few months before the race, I decided I needed to have a themed skirt for the race, and we had option to have running shirts made.  Since I was making skirts anyway, I offered them to the team and 6 of us opted to have them...as you will see in the photos.

In the few weeks leading up to the race, we all met, we passed ideas and lists and planning documents back and forth...and of course I sewed skirts.

The night before the race began the team delivered the van to Glenda and I for decoration (which we had been elected to do) made our plans for the morning...and as the saying goes "sh*t got real."

Windows with obligatory cow puns....

Drawing cows....

And my finishing touch...

We had planned a meeting time that seemed awfully early to meet up to drive to Waukegan, IL where we would check in and meet up with Van 1 as they finished the first set of running legs. Everyone was arriving and we were beginning to load when one team member realized she had forgotten her shoes and had to run home and get them...turns out something similar happened last year and that's why the extra time had been built in. 

All 6 of us (Christian, Amy, Glenda, Mary, Vanessa and I) plus a "hitchhiker" by the name of Doreen, who was on another team but needed a ride to meet up with her group 

loaded up in good time and headed down the road.  We had all met each other before, except for Doreen, but we were not necessarily close friends, so we spent the ride down telling race stories, showing pictures and getting to know each other better.  And getting to know Doreen (new friend, score!)

Van 2 crew.  Amy, Vanessa, me, Glenda, Christian and Mary

We arrived in plenty of time to sign in and shop for a while in the gear store (and ending up with some new singlets).  I wanted a Ragnar finisher's shirt...but refused to buy it, as we had not finished.  I only had to hope there would be some at the finish.  Then we watched and waited for Van 1 and their runners to arrive. Although I was nervous about the whole thing, I decided to put myself in the mindset of "this will be fun" and wore my delusionally optimistic running shirt. 

We also learned our team's hand-off ritual demonstrated by Amy and Mary below

Fist bump.....

.....and chug

In due time we met up with Van 1, and after a little time chatting and waiting. Lisa arrived at the handoff, slapped the slap bracelet on Christian's wrist and he was off.  The rest of us ran for the van to go to the next transfer point, as I prepared for my first leg.  

Pulling out of the parking lot with Mary driving was an adventure in itself.  Everyone in a party/race mood milling around and a big vehicle to maneuver.  We managed to direct our driver to back out and we all piled in.  But people were still milling...so mild-mannered Mary rolled down her window and started shouting "Rental vehicle coming through!  Fully insured!  Watch out, fully insured rental vehicle coming through!" while the rest of us cracked up. 

We made it to the hand off in Zion, IL in plenty of time and I had an excellent run along the bike path there.  Glenda met me about a little under a mile out and run with me for a little while and cut off as I did the last bit to get ready for her handoff. I requested a banana and a diet pepsi at the end...which becomes important later. 

Coming in to hand off to Glenda

Glenda handed off to Vanessa, Vanessa to Mary,  Mary to Amy...and we came back to Van 1 and proceeded to dinner at Noodles to carb up, a stop at Starbucks to load up on caffeine as we would be running all night and the next van switch point. 

Vanessa looking strong

Mary on the run as seen through the van window

Amy on the run...check out the unicorn shot (both feet off the ground)

When we arrived at the next major exchange there was still time to wait for our other van. And there was some concern that they would hold some groups before sending them on.  This is sometimes logistically necessary to avoid crowding at exchange points ahead and assure there are enough volunteers etc.  At this point it was past our bedtime, we were tired from being in the van, and we were just waiting around.  We knew we would have a bed for a few hours after our van's next leg...but the gym floor looked awfully inviting to stretch out.  So 3 of us snoozed in the van and three hit the gym floor. 

Gym floor selfie 

By the time our "restful" time on the gym floor was over it was getting dark and had begun to rain...a chilly drizzle.  The rain lasted most of the night and added some further challenges.  Once Christian took over from the Lisa, who was Van 1's last runner.  We headed to the next exchange and Glenda and I got ready to run.  Glenda ran my leg as a "buddy" as I have a penchant for getting lost and she worried about me alone in the dark.  I certainly did not turn down her offer.  When poor Chris came in he had been forced to remove hearing aids due to rain, and couldn't see for the rain on his glasses...so it took us a moment to connect. 

Cold, rainy hand off...

But once we did connect Glenda and I were off for a cold, rainy and somewhat crowded 3.9 miles.  I had to take off my glasses part way through because they were fogged.  But fortunately I can see well enough to get by on the run, and the person I was handing off to was running beside me.

At the very end of the segment I had to laugh as a woman, roughly my pace, and clearly struggling a bit passed me and said,  "I hope you don't mind, but if I pass you I can record a 'kill' on our van...and I don't ever get any."  I just laughed and told her to go for it. (For the uninitiated, a 'kill' is when you pass someone and some vans keep count.  We did not.)

When we came to the next exchange I handed off to Glenda, who was off like a shot. And was met by my team with diet pepsi and banana in hand...loved that!

I was glad to get back to the van, I was cold and wet...and stayed pretty cold for the rest of our van's segments.  There aren't many pictures of the night runs because it was cold and rainy. And I spent a lot of time in the van.

About 3 a.m. we arrived at our motel.  The first van had the rooms for a few hours, and then we had them for a few hour while they ran.  The bed, the shower and the breakfast were all heaven and we got a badly needed 3 hours of sleep.

Then on to Lake Mills for the final switch.

Weather was better for Christian's last run

To be honest, I was not at all sure that I was going to be able to do my last leg.  But my team assured me that we were ahead of schedule, I could walk the whole thing if I wanted or needed to.  I did not want to do that, but I had the option in my back pocket. 

The Will Run for Spotted Cow handoff salute

My last leg was slow and included plenty of walking (as well as cheers from another team whose members we knew pretty well...thanks Ho Hos and Ding Dongs...you know who you are).  By the end it was getting warm and I was ready to be done.  Coming to the last turn I had determined to try to pick it up at the end, just to get it over.  But what I found there made me run even faster. 

As it happens, the team planned to meet me with a banana and a diet pepsi as before, but discovered that there was no diet pepsi in the cooler!  They saw a Mobile station nearby and decided to buy one...but when they went in, found that they did not have any singles...so they bought an entire 12-pack of cold (wonderful!) diet pepsi.  And there was Christian behind Glenda holding it high in the air. 

Christian holding up diet pepsi and banana

Me coming in...I may have yelled "I love you Chris!:)

Glenda hit the road

I checked off my final segment

My last run had been in fairly familiar territory, as it was mostly on a piece of the Glacial Drumlin Trail that I had biked before. It was exhilarating knowing we were getting close to "home."  

Speaking of home, the route passed very near ours. We took the opportunity to pick up our own car.  We wanted to have it at the finish for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that we did not want to make anyone else leave the party early...but thought for family and personal reasons we might need to take off before others finished their partying. 

From there we drove down and parked at the finish in Olin Park and located the rest of the team.  When Amy texted she was a mile out all of us went down and waited just off the path at intervals.  We chose to be right before the finish chute. As Amy passed each of us we fell in behind so that we could finish the relay together.

Amy running in, with Christian at her side and other teammates falling in behind

Then we received our medals, had pizza and beer or soda, chatted awhile (and got finisher's shirts....they still had them!)  Our time for covering the 200-ish  miles (I heard it was actually about 189) was 34:24:19...full of epic adventures. 

The medals, when pieced together, sum it all up nicely....

We are Ragnarians, we believe together we can accomplish anything

Would I do it again? I've given it a lot of thought...and perhaps my personal medal (each is different) says it best.

The front of my medal

Sore legs...and memories...

The answer?  Now that my legs are less sore...I'd make more memories.  Maybe not next year, but someday....

Weather or not?

Ragnar Chicago to Madison was  coming up when I started thinking about this blog post.  The number of times I had checked the weather for those two days  approached 2 billion and 12. Not that I could do anything about it.  I think it is just something runners do. And in the end we had surprises anyway.

But as I was checking the weather for the 49th time one day, I got to thinking about the times that weather really did create a race day ruckus. 

I have run in heat and rain and wind.  But probably the weather that has created the most havoc for me running is snow. 

So this is the story of the only two races that were ever cancelled in all the races we have done...one of which we found a replacement for and one of which we didn't...both in 2013. 

The first was shortly before Easter in Colorado. 

The view from the "replacement race" in March 2013

As always we watched the weather closely before we left and we knew there was a "slight" chance of some snow and that if it was icy the race, ironically called the Spring Fever 5k/10k,  would be cancelled. The closer to the day we came, the higher the chances of significant snow became.  But being the hearty (or perhaps foolhardy) folks that we are we headed north from Texas anyway. It was sunny when we arrived, and we dared to hope that the, by now dire, weather reports were wrong.  But by late afternoon the snow had started and there was ice accumulation and by evening the race had been cancelled.  

I was reconciled to the fact that I might have to do Colorado later, but Glenda was not.  She started digging for other races in the area.  She even looked at some that were an hour away in good weather which I said was a bad idea.  After digging around for a while at all kinds of race lists she found an announcement that said that the Quick Like a Bunny 5k/10k was on regardless of weather.  It was in City Park in Denver, about 12 miles from where we were staying and they had same day registration...so it was on!

A couple of crazed runners

By the time Saturday morning rolled around it was still snowing and there were about 7 inches on the ground. The temperature was 19 degrees F with a windchill of 3, and blowing snow. The visibility on the highway driving in was about a tenth of a mile (Glenda commented that I could say I had run in a blizzard)…and we thought that this was the single craziest thing we had ever done.  Then we arrived at the park and were sure. The wind was wicked the course was snowy and I, at least, was wondering if I was up to this. I added the race t-shirt to the other layers I was wearing (thus having 5 on top), added a second pair of socks and hung out in the heated bathroom for a while.

There were maybe a dozen hardcore, crazy souls doing the 10K and before they were out past the first turn Glenda was well out in front of everybody, female and male. told one really fit looking guy that we had flown in just to do a race and when we had been foiled had found this as a back up. I explained it was important to find one as this was state 19 in my quest to do all 50…he high fived me, and said “That’s hardcore! I have to know your name.” So I introduced myself. And reminded myself what Glenda and I have often said, “There is a fine line between crazy and hardcore…and you are not always sure when you have crossed it.”…we had!

Glenda won the 10K overall, I had checked off state 19, and we high fived our way back to the pavilion and out of the wind..and into the only heated spot (a small bathroom) to wait for awards. Eventually the time came for awards and the raffle.  They had $2000 in donated prizes, but only about 50-60 of their registered (and we two un-preregistered) had actually shown up, and even fewer had stayed. So there were lots of prizes for everyone and we all had a great giggle over it. Glenda got her winners’ award, but we also won a Powerbar pack, a pair of sunglasses, a restaurant gift card  and…wait for it…a WHOLE cherry pie.

It was unquestionably the craziest, coldest, most hardcore and most fun thing I’d done at that point. And to me, it really was all about the fun!
---

Later that same year though, the weather totally shut down our racing plans. It was early October in the Black Hills. Once again, it was temperate on our arrival, but it did not last for long.

Glenda checking the snow the first morning...18 inches then. The final total would be 30.

The flurries started late that afternoon, by morning there was a foot and half and it was still snowing.  With the race still a day away, we were hoping beyond hope that they would be able to do some kind of race...we were hanging on update e-mails and Facebook notices.  All the while it continued to snow, and reports in the area were of downed power lines and closed roads.  For awhile it looked like they might still be able to put on a 5k...but when the snow picked up it became obvious.  Toward evening the power in Hill City went down and everything closed up.  The race was called off.  At some point we decided we would just go to Rapid City and leave early.  But when we got to the interstate we hit a literal wall of snow and a closed interstate.  So, back to the motel to wait it out.  Dinner was cheese and crackers as there was no way to heat anything.  A few hours later the emergency lights in the motel went out as battery power failed and cell service went down. 

Breakfast the next morning was cereal and bagels and anything that didn't need cooking.  The milk and juice were cooled in a snow bank!

This is the trailhead on race morning...the snow was hip deep and you couldn't see any trail, just a sign

By later that morning the power was still out, but the temperature was better and the local streets were plowed.  So we went for a run.  I went back to the hotel after 3 or 4 miles, while Glenda continued.  I will admit, alone in the hotel room, I shed a few tears.  I'd had the best training season of my life...and no race.  But my spirits were raised a bit when the lights came back on.  When Glenda got back we began talking and decided we would just have to find another half marathon to do very soon. 

So we began looking at upcoming races.  First near home in the next few weeks, and had half decided on one in Salado, TX (just up the road from Austin, where we lived at the time) in the next few weeks.  But I wasn't quite ready to pull the trigger. I was still hungry and grumpy, because although the power was finally back, there was still nothing open in town.  

A little while later, Glenda checked again to find that the cafe up the road had just opened...and off we went.  I may not have run the race, but I ate a race worth of some of the best food I can ever remember.

This is my "not really post race" meal.  I was so hungry I ate half before I took a photo.

While we were at the restaurant it occurred to me why I couldn't bring myself to sign up for the Salado race. I wanted to get a state, and it seemed silly to run a half marathon just to run it.  So we decided to look for something else. 

When we got back to the room we did more searching and settled on Richmond a few weeks later.  It was actually a nice choice as someone else we knew was doing it as well. The good news?  Richmond was probably the best half marathon I ever did!

We had many adventures getting home as well. When we arrived at the Rapid City airport, we discovered that most of the power was still out there.  Not only had the weather shut down power, they had also had a generator fire in the back up generator. We were not at all sure that we would be getting out. But after hand-written tickets and manual bag search and numerous delays...we finally made it on the plane to Denver.  But I confess, we did not really believe we were getting home until the plane was in the air. 

In the end, I had a good story, a good race a few weeks later in Richmond...and eventually a different race in South Dakota...but it took a while for this one to become "something we laughed about later."

Comparison is the thief of Joy

Taken after my 5K PR in Victoria Park, London, UK in 2013

I really believe the quote from Theodore Roosevelt which is the title of this piece.  I have put it another way.  I coined the phrase "compare and despair" when I was training years ago with a much faster group.  This is why I never compete for age group awards (though I love the few that I have) and I don't worry about finishing last (I did that once and still had a PR...just a fast field that day).  But I do compare myself to myself...and occasionally I have to take a step back and think about that. 

Many runners, maybe even most runners I know measure themselves, at least in part by PRs (Personal Records) or PBs (Personal Bests).  As focused as I am on the fun, I am no different.  I don't race against others for the most part...but I do track my PRs as a way of measuring progress...comparing myself to myself. 

And most of the time this is a good mindset, but sometimes there are setbacks and changes...and we all get older.  So sometimes pushing for those PRs can be enormously frustrating, and for at least for a time, impossible. In those times, be they only a moment or a season of your life, it may be worth reconsidering. 

This is before my 4 mile PR in April 2014 in Wauconda, IL

My strategy in these moments, or seasons, is to press reset.  There are many who say a PR is a PR is a PR.  And of course I do keep track of my overall PRs.  But when I hit a rough patch, like my knee surgery several years ago for instance, I merely shout (usually quietly and internally) "Plot twist! Time for a reset!" For a year or so after that instance I measured PSPRs (Post Surgery PRs) which kept me going without beating myself up. 

On the run setting my 5 mile PR at the Georgetown Turkey Trot in Georgetown, TX November 2013

As I mentioned in my previous blog posting, I am having to press reset on my running due to some medication side effects, press reset on my type 2 diabetes with a brush up with the educator and nutritionist, and further a reset on my working life as I retired this week!  So it is time to start tracking Post Retirement, new season in life PRs. I may never get back to my 2013-2014 pace...but I will keep moving and improving!

NOTE: Interestingly all 3 of the PRs pictured in this blog (as well as my 10K PR, not pictured because I don't have a photo) are overall PRs...and all of them have happened SINCE my surgery for a torn meniscus, which at the time caused a reset. So a reset isn't giving up, or the end of all things...just a way to keep going and continue to feel good about one's progress. And even if you never have another overall PR, it reminds you that as long as you're moving, you're improving. 

Trust yourself and be proactive

I like to think of myself as a strong person, and a relatively smart one.  After all, I managed to run a marathon after having had back problems (and issues with type 2 diabetes during training). I came back after a knee injury.  I managed physically and mentally navigate through all that so I thought I was pretty set and had medical issues well in hand. 

But sometimes my mind plays tricks, and sometimes what I think is well in hand, isn't.  It is interesting too, how a step out of the ordinary every day flow of life, can bring struggles into focus as you get messages you didn't even know you needed. 

So here is my recent story.  Earlier this year (in mid-April) we were headed to Boston for Glenda to run the marathon, and incidentally for me to run the BAA 5k.  Because we were going spend a few days anyway, we decided to go early and visit with friends in Rhode Island where I lived and taught at URI for 4 years.  We toured the old haunts and ran that Thursday evening with my old running group...the NRA (Narragansett Running Association). We then went to the traditional Thursday night dinner at the Mews Tavern with the group, and there an amazing thing happened.

One of the guys started teasing another about "all that crap you are eating." They went on to explain that the other fellow had high cholesterol and taking statin drugs had really messed him up. I knew statins could cause muscle aches and assumed that was the problem, but in the course of conversation asked anyway how they had messed him up.  He told me it messed with his running, he was so sore and his pace fell off, etc. 

A lightbulb went off in my brain.  You see, I've been on a statin for a while.  When I went on it I was building mileage for a half marathon, and I chalked up the soreness I felt to the extra miles.  I had a couple of halfs in that period that I had trouble finishing because I was so sore.  But as I reduced my miles, the soreness did not go away.  I didn't ache all the time like my mother had on statins, but the aftermath of a 3 miles run felt more like I'd done 10.  I chalked it up to being older, or muscle imbalances or weight or .... it became the new normal to the point that I didn't really report it to my coach.  Or if I did I'd say something like was a little more sore than I should be after the run, but it seems to be recovering.  Maybe, I thought, this is a side effect, I'll ask my doctor the next time I have occasion to see her.

Whether fortunately or unfortunately, my body, and another medication, made that occasion sooner...

You can't really tell from this picture, but I had an "interesting" thing occur on Saturday at the BAA 5K.  

I was on lisinopril, an ACE inhibitor and common blood pressure medication, not so much for my blood pressure but as a kidney protector since I am a type 2 diabetic.  People do develop allergies to these drugs, normally in the form of a dry cough.  I can't be that simple.  I normally would take that drug in the morning, but not workout until a few hours later.  This day I took it and headed out to race. About 2 miles in, I noticed that my left lower lip had started to swell.  My thought was, "that's weird, I didn't have any cold sore warning signs...and there's no sign of a bite or sting." At first I thought it was probably just a cold sore...but it was weird. 

By the time we got back to the hotel, I looked like the selfie below.

At first I thought it was some sort of weird cold sore, but I posted something on social media about it, and a physician friend suggested that it could very well be angioedema and if it spread to tongue or throat, or did not reverse to see someone. I took benadryl and we developed a plan if that did not reverse things (fortunately it did).  

Clearly I was going to have to see my doctor sooner rather than later.  So when I came home, I made an appointment and I set about planning for it.  I wanted to be very clear about what I wanted from this appointment. I clearly wanted off the ACE inhibitor, and probably the statin.  But more than that, I determined that I needed a "reset" and decided to ask for a referral to the diabetes educator for a brush up and a referral to PT in case the soreness problem was not the meds (or in case I had developed imbalances in compensating for it). This seems to me to be a lot to ask in one appointment, because doctors are so limited in the time they can spend, but I thought...."if I really have my ducks in a row maybe I can do this." And after all it is my body, I have an opinion and I know what I am motivated to do. So I armed myself with my swollen lip picture, brief versions of the stories above and a list of what I wanted. 

The upside:  Preparation pays.  After a good conversation with my provider, I was taken off the ACE inhibitor for the time being as my recent tests showed no kidney involvement (we will deal with further when the statin situation is completely figured out). I was taken off the statin and put on a different one for which a much smaller dose is effective.  I was totally off any statins for 2 weeks, so that I could get a baseline for soreness.  OMG, the difference is amazing!  I don't know how I didn't realize that this could be the problem. Interestingly as soon as I said to the doctor about the statin, "I'm very sore, and I didn't realize that it could be the med as I was building mileage when I started it, but now a 3 mile run feels like 10 afterward." She nodded and told me that was a typical description of this particular side effect...soreness or aching that is out of proportion for the activity level.  I just started the new statin (fingers crossed!).  And she was all about giving me the "reset" I wanted too.  As a healthy, active lifestyle beats any medication alone for the control of diabetes and its repercussions.

The downside: As I understand it the statin side effect not only causes soreness, but slows the natural muscle adaptation.  So all the miles of running and soreness did not result in the improvement one would expect.  In fact I got much slower, and less likely to do all the miles, besides.  So in a very real way, after 12 years of running, I am starting over.  It is a bit daunting.  I have chosen to do some things with no expectations other than to finish, and I have backed down the distance on a few events.  But I'm determined.  Nowhere to go but up.

A side note: As a library/information professional (recently retired), I have to point out that I googled side-effects of statins and running after my conversation with my friends.  The first thing I found was an article from Runner's World written when statins were first being widely prescribed. They were of the opinion that statins did not affect running. (Not a bad article... just outdated). This is why you never stop at the first source...and you go to the scientific work directly if you can.  When I did that, I found there were many articles, much newer that suggested (once you slogged through all the scientific verbiage) that this was indeed a documented problem for some people. 

The moral of the story, Trust yourself, do your homework, and be proactive. 

Onward!

Joy and an attitude of gratitude

I would be the first to tell you that joy and gratitude have not always been my go to.  Oh, I always had a sense of humor (often pretty self-deprecating), and as a kid I reveled in pleasing my father and annoying my mother by playing the straight man for my dad's corny jokes (they were dad jokes to the nth degree).  But I honestly didn't associate joy and gratitude with each other and purposely include them in my life until 2 things happened....I became involved in the academic study of play and I became a runner.

Through a series of life experiences, I began to get an inkling that the things we did for recreation and play meant far more to us than a trivial "something to do when we are not working."  Subsequently, I spent a good part of my academic career studying the intersections of information and recreation, and seeing what play of various kinds....from video games to triathlons... meant to their participants.  I'll talk more in another blog about the academic side, but what I came to personally in terms of personal philosophy was that play is not trivial, it is VITAL...now more than ever. Play is as important to adults as to children...and finding our joy (and our gratitude) is as just about as important as anything in life. 

I began running in 2005 at the age of 49.  I always enjoyed it. And as I got older I was glad I could do it.  I like the feeling of moving under my own power (even when it hurts sometimes).  The joy has always been there, more or less.  This is definitely one of the ways I play...but it was this race, the Hoover Dam Half in December of 2013, that taught me about the gratitude.  It was my second half marathon in as many months.  There was a long uphill at the start, and I was struggling a little. The course runs on a rail trail with several tunnels, and I was moving along and doing ok, but questioning my sanity about running another half so soon.  Then I passed through one of the tunnels...

And was greeted by a view like this one.  My instantaneous reaction was a deep heartfelt "thank you" that came from nowhere and went out to the universe. I was so grateful in that moment that I could still do these things and see these things.  I am not a particularly religious person, but this was definitely a spiritual moment. And I called it a gratitude moment.  When I started paying attention, I found that almost every race has such a moment, big or small.

In order to add to the joy, and the sense of play...I began running in costume (even races that are not commonly costumed). There is something magical about dressing up and letting go that brings a smile to yourself...and to others around you (even though some may shake their heads!) For me the joy begins with the creation of the costumes and lingers long after through the memories.

So let's be grateful, let's be joyful, let's play!  Here's to miles of smiles!!