A Runner Who Mentors

As a Philadelphia runner, I saw them at 80% of the local runs I did: blue shirts. The badge of courage marking a student runner. The organization known as Students Run Philly Style works with youth ages 12 years to 18 years, mentoring and training them over 9 months to run a full marathon (26.2 miles to you non-runners). With every race, they encouraged and inspired me. Each race I ran, I felt more and more compelled to join the organization. Finally, this past February, I joined as a running leader. This is the breakdown of one of our practices.

12:34pm. I text one of the co-leaders to ask about practice. I want to send out a reminder to the students but need to confirm with him that practice is still on as usual. He responds that he cannot make it due to unexpectedly working late. I attempt to contact the other leaders, but no one is available. I am exhausted and have no desire to lead the group run, especially since I cannot run.

Later that afternoon. I suck it up and send out the mass text reminding the runners that there will indeed be a 6pm practice. Still tired, I give myself a pep talk that includes how important it is that the students run. The clinics this week have or are workout clinics, not running ones, so the practice is important. Then I contact Frank to make sure he can still get out on time so that I don't have to tote Olivia along with me.

5pm-ish. Frank arrives home from work. I begrudgingly change and gather my SRPS materials, which I bring to every practice. In this bag are forms, emergency contact information, and anything else relevant to the now. I text the student I am picking up to alert him of my ETA.

5:50pm. We arrive at school. Already 2 or 3 students have gathered. They are chatting energetically. One of our notoriously late students is walking up as we park. Exaggeratedly I note how on time she is as we join the others. Only after 5 minutes of hanging out do I realize she is not dressed in her running gear. Laughing and more teasing ensue as I urge her into the building to change.

When I joined Students Run, I was intimidated and nervous. I had serious concerns about how much of a time commitment it would be and what I would be required to do outside of running a practice. There were 4 other seasoned running leaders on the team I joined, so I figured I would be able to float along, learning as time went by. But since my personality is more bold than docile, more take charge than stand back, it did not take long for me to well, lead.

6:04pm. She has not yet returned. I start announcements as a way to stall. The group has to run 5 miles, and there is one student who averages a 15 minute run/walk pace. We need to get started soon. I alert the students to the upcoming clinics and times. There are two important facts they need to walk away with, and as I know from giving professional development trainings, they will remember only a small percentage of what I say. I will repeat these two items no less than 5 times each before the run begins. After the run, I will echo this about two more times. My general mood is improving as my back-and-forth banter with the students hits its peak. I am happy that I have such a good rapport with this group.

I think, compared to the other leaders, I am the "mom" of this team. It's an easy role for me to identify with: surrogate mother. My tendency to care for others is evident in most of my endeavors. Even my career path has evolved into one of training, guiding, and educating others. More so than the other leaders, I bring the items that the students might need. I know that one of our runners has an incredibly high metabolism and is usually hungry. On long run days, I try to bring something small for him to eat in case he has forgotten. We have a runner who stands off more than the others, and it is him whom I make sure to praise each practice for attending. I give rides, provide water, and for one student, hand-sanitizer... a girl after my own heart.

7 - 10 minutes later. She returns. The announcements commence from the beginning [again]. One of the older students speaks about the upcoming clinic at the Sporting Club, where the group will rotate through circuits with personal trainers. Both leaders and students have told me how fun this clinic is, and I hope that his words will impress that upon the new students. Summer retention is hard in Students Run Philly Style when the kids could be doing anything else with their time besides getting up early on a Saturday or even just running. Because of this my goal with every practice, more than just the miles, is to create a fun environment. When you are young, running is boring and often tedious, especially when friends call with other plans. I want them to walk away a family, dedicated to each other just as much as they are to the run.

Fun can be hard to infuse into running. We are in our 5th month of a 9 month season. Our team has evolved into a group of dedicated runners. More importantly, I have seen many friendships develop. Students who once spoke to no one during practices have become our loudest members. For my part, I have spent the past 2 months making each practice a little different. Currently we are not training for a "big" race. Broad Street [10 miler] is behind us, and the Philadelphia Marathon is still a good 3+ months away. The students have an excellent base and could all run 6 - 8 miles easily (or without complaint). The summer can be tough, even for me. I have brought food, everything from snacks to muffins to cupcakes to pretzels, and water to practices. We have done scavenger hunts and party games. Wanna have fun? Play musical chairs but without music or chairs... in the rain... with my 2 year old chaotically running with you. Over the 4th of July weekend when a good number of our team was at SRPS camp, we did a patriotic run to the Liberty Bell & back. And even though many would think it's cheesy or uncool, all but one of the students listened to my request and showed up in red, white, or blue. Fun.

6:20pm. I go over the run. They will be doing a 5 mile run that they have often done in the past. All of them know the route, which is important because I will not be with them. There are two junior leaders present that will go the distance. I ask all of them to run in pairs; they are not required to talk, just to look out for each other. I also ask any students who are able to carry a cell phone. Generally, this is not allowed, but today, given my absence, I want to make sure they are able to reach me in case of an emergency. All of them have my number, and they are all programmed in my phone. More reminders. Last minute notes about the route to make sure everyone is comfortable.

6:32pm. They are off. Giggling, teasing, & best of all for me, without complaint. I hole up in my car and wait.

Being an injured running leader stinks. Especially since my injury is a broken pinky toe, on the same foot as my sore ankle. I compensated for the pain in the toe by walking mostly on one side. The tendonitis in that ankle resurfaced due to the severe pronation. A recipe for disaster that yielded me in a walking shoe and ankle brace... and limited to exercising on a reclining bike. No running for at least 6 weeks and probable PT after that. The students have been fantastic about it: a mixture of teasing and sympathy.

6:44pm. I receive a phone call from a student who has fallen and skinned both of her knees. She purports to be hobbling and unable to run. Some leaders would tell her to suck it up and run. She is running at the back of the pack tonight, and I don't want the others in this group held up. I have her stay put, tell the others to keep on, and I am off to pick her up. I have no doubt that she is fully capable of finishing the route. However, in this moment, it is easier for me to get her than to worry about her running back on her own or continuing and slowing or furthering her pain. She regales me with the tale; I will hear this about 4 more times over the course of the practice as she shares it with whomever will listen. Like me, she has a flair for the dramatic, and I am amused by how this plays out over the course of the evening.

In the fall my schedule will change. I have taken a full-time position in South Jersey that will not get me back in time for weekday practices. I am anxious about how this will work with Students Run. I cannot imagine my life without it just as I cannot remember what I did before I volunteered. For now, I am blissfully living in the moment, not thinking about what will happen once the school year starts.

7pm-ish. While we wait, another leader happens by after finishing work. As students finish, we all wind down with more jokes and razzing. My mood has drastically improved. How could it not? Watching these students run 5 miles without flinching then come back and laugh at each other is worth it. By 7:40pm everyone has returned safely. More reminders before "props."

"Props" are an opportunity for any student who so wishes to recognize someone else on the team. In college, my all-girls choir called it "warm fuzzies." Restaurants or stores use recognition cards. Some schools do "stars" or "shout outs." Our team does "props." Generally, every prop session starts with acknowledging everyone who came, thanking them for making the trek and for running hard. Tonight is the same. The wonder that ensues is what students say next. I am always impressed by their thoughtfulness. Members are called out for running with someone, for being on time, and for just generally doing a great job without complaining. This is topped off with our Students Run Cheer.

Who are we?

STUDENTS!

What do we do?

RUN!

How do we do it?

PHILLY STYLE!

8pm. Practice is over. I gather my riders, and we make our way back home. My heart is happier. Turns out covering practicing at the last minute was the best thing that happened to me that day.

Ain't Too Proud

Ok, so I admit it, sometimes I'm all for using this blog as a platform to win free stuff. So, I'm entering a contest on the blog: Endurance Isn't Only Physical. Cross your fingers for me and check it out (after you uncross your fingers!).

A Need to Go the Extra Mile

It's pretty clear that I love running. My t-shirts are 90% race shirts. My walking shoes are old-running shoes. My "sweats" are just loose running apparel. I have a drawer devoted entirely to running gear. I attribute my uh, [cough] svelte look to running... as well as my sanity. I enjoy lacing up the Brooks, turning on the Runtastic app on my Blackberry, bidding adieu to my hubby and child, or just the cats if no one else is home, and escaping my life. At a recent half-marathon I saw a sign that said, 13.1 miles of peace and quiet. Amen. And I'd like to add of no diapers, crying, whining, or general chaos - at least from my child & husband. I may do 3 of those 4 items at any time on a run.

Unfortunately, running has not always loved me back. After I birthed a small child, it took awhile for my 10 month stagnant body to warm up. Postpartum running went as fast as an 80 year old speedwalker, who often beat me [mentally]. And my knee developed this nagging pain that has since been successfully treated with Hyalgan shots.

Feeling like I needed focus, I trained for and ran the November Philadelphia Half-Marathon. It was invigorating to be running a distance again. I felt whole, finally back to me. During the 13.1 mile trek, my friend Amy & I talked about life, our daughters, and running. We wanted them to grow up strong and to see the importance in activity. I felt like I needed to share running with the world. Like I needed to stand on roof-tops calling out its glories. This pull led me to Students Run Philly Style, an organization that mentors youth through long-distance running, and over time, we train the students to run a full marathon. That's 26.2 miles, a distance even I have never beaten.

Running with the students has elevated my running, physically and mentally. It doesn't matter what kind of awful mood I am in; when I run with my students, I am immersed in excitement. Plus, my body has reaped the benefits of this conditioning. My pace has improved, and I found myself capable of quick turnarounds due to improved recovery on challenging runs.

Over the past few months, I was up to running 20 - 25 miles per week - an all-time high, especially as a working mom. I ran Broad Street in early-May, turned around and ran the Oddyssey Half-Marathon in late-May, and then the King of Prussia 10-miler in early-June all without a solid break. My pace has increased to slightly below 11 mins/mile. I was ecstatic.

But, it laid the groundwork for a physically tired anatomical me. During the KOP run, I landed funny coming off a curb. The immediate effects went unnoticed, and I finished the challenging 10 mile race under my goal. For several days, the ankle was sore, and I thought, "It's nothing." When I tried to return to running, it screamed at me. I figured, a minor sprain and took some time off, using a grocery store brace to offer home-made stabilization. Low impact exercise, ice, rest, repeat. After a week or so, I tried treadmill running... still pain. Back to the formula, walked with the students when I could, and this time kept the brace on always. Running with the brace, while it looks ridiculous, goes well with little to no post-run pain... as long as I am on a treadmill. I learned that latter factor when I decided to push my luck and run the Swarthmore Independence Eve 8K - a lovely, local run which usually has no more than 100 - 150 runners. It is also a very challenging 8K.

I ran it, in its entirety. My ankle starting talking to me around 2.5 miles. When I got to mile 4, it was yelling at me, cursing really, but by this point, I was a mile from the finish and determined. The recovery was tough, especially since I turned around and did a 6.6 mile run/walk with the students the following morning. Smart? Probably not. But I have a few students who would have been fine walking with me, and I don't want them to lose their conditioning so we walked a block, ran a block and enjoyed ourselves. Not wanting them to see bad habits, I minimize the effort I put forth around them. They need a role model that listens to their body, rests when rest is needed, and tests their limits cautiously. So while I may not do that in reality, I promise that when I am around the students, I am not reckless. In fact, this was the first time they have seen me run in weeks. Pinky swear.

The frustrating thing is that it only hurts when I run. With the brace on, I can do a stationary bike, the eliptical, walking, and even short-distance treadmill running. But that is not what my body craves. I have a problem: I need to run. I yearn to get out the door and spend hours hovering between 10 & 11 minute miles. It's a strange rush, but it's mine. I already have my sights set on the Baltimore Marathon's Half-Marathon, sponsored by Under Armour & sure to be filled with amazing swag. As fun as cross-training can be, it's not the same. It's not running.

I have a doctor's appointment Thursday and am hoping for the best: minor sprain. At its worst, it could be a stress fracture or even need surgery. Either way, I am developing a mental argument for why the doctor should treat the injury in a non-restrictive way. Maybe I really cannot run, but let me swim, bike, walk, move. Anything. Just let me do.

And when I return, I can continue saving my sanity, one mile at a time.

Week 2 (or Lookin' Good, Feelin' Good)

Day 1, Sunday: I woke up weighing less than yesterday so I quick jumped on the Wii Fit to make it official - .7 lbs lost. Vindication! Spent just shy of 2 hours doing yard work -- ahh the joys of homeownership! However, this doozy of a structureless workout burned over 500 calories (and probably about $45 at Home Depot...), and I followed it up with a fabulous treadmill stint that hit 2.5 miles running at a 12 minute pace. I sped it up for the last .2 miles and still felt good. I just may be able to pull this off!

Day 2, Labor Day Monday: I thought about doing core conditioning exercises today. Thought. This was immediately followed by a tilapia & avocado taco, crab legs, and lots of cookies. I do, however, decide to run the upcoming 5K Frank and I signed up to walk. It will be the longest distance I've run since Broad Street... oh, and it's Saturday.

Day 3, Tuesday: First day back to work. Frank helps me drop a hysterical Olivia off at daycare. I tear up because she screams "Mommy," while reaching out for me. I spend 2 hours coaxing two 2nd graders into their classroom but am glad to be back at work. After work, I hit the gym for a fantastic workout. I spend 30 minutes on the eliptical at high intensity and top it off with a 2.25 mile run. Wanting a challenge, I warm up for a mile then run 2 quarter mile interval sprints with quarter mile recovery in between. I extend the 2nd recovery and cool down for another .25 miles. I feel like a runner again.

Day 4, Wednesday: Frank has class so I do core conditioning exercises while watching Man v. Food. Nothing says work that flab off like watching a grown man stuff his mouth with fried food in order to win a prize.

Day 5, Thursday: I don't want to run too hard before the 5K on Saturday so I again warm up with the eliptical at a high intensity before running 1.65 miles (odd, yes, but my weekly total will be even) on the treadmill. I am happy to say that my easy pace was bumped up to 5.2 mph. I'm completely unstoppable (cue Rocky music).

Day 6, Friday: After experiencing multiple mishaps which include leaving the house with tea-spotted pants... I give myself a pass. Plus, I'm so exhausted from waking up at 5:30am for work that I fall asleep by 10:30pm.

Day 7, Saturday: I'm down 1.5 pounds according to my official Wii Fit weigh-in which puts me about 2 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight and about 13 pounds from my pre-pre-pregnancy weight (aka, my goal). I am so psyched for the morning's run that I secretly hope I will be the only person in my age bracket, thus, winning a medal. My dream seems plausible when all of about 50 people line up at the starting line. It is, unfortunately, quickly dashed when my unhurried pace lands me at the back of the pack... of one. I keep pace with the kids running the fun run, something I enjoy. Overheard:

Kid 1: This is hard!

Kid 2: I know! I'm pooped!

The little boy in first for the fun run passes me and finishes (but I wasn't far behind him!). The course winds through a residential area here in town, which means it had plenty of slopes and a good hill here and there. I run fast enough to know that I couldn't talk except to thank the volunteers along the course. I keep a good pace and finish right where I want to be [for training purposes, of course]. I'm not sure what my official time was, but I crossed the finish line in about 33:20 - much slower than my PR but about a 10:40 pace. I'm very happy with myself because 3.1 miles, as I said above, is the longest distance I've run since Broad St. My knee felt good, and my body felt better. Because we walked to the race, I ended up running/walking about 5 miles before 9:30am.

Weekly running total: 9.5

Self-Esteem: Wonder Woman has nothing on me!

Week 1 Report (or Hope Springs Eternal)

So this past week, I decided to start "training" for the Philly Half-Mary... now for some runners, this would involve long runs, tempo runs, fartleks (swear to God, that's a real thing, non-runners). For me, it meant boosting my mileage and running self-esteem. It worked; I'm still hopelessly optimistic of accomplishing my goal. Here's the lowdown on how it all went.

Day 1, Sunday: Hit the gym first thing instead of church. I pray while I workout. Pray = 1 part marinating on whether to really run the half-mary and 1 part get me through the workout. It is, afterall, Sunday. I spend 30 minutes warming up my knee on the bike (the one where your feet are in front of your hips, not directly under) before hitting the treadmill. I do an easy mile at a 12 minute pace. My knee feels great. I'm clearly an amazing runner and can do anything. The half-mary will be easy-peasy. I decide to top off this killer workout with some knee strengthening and abwork. Jillian Michaels has nothing on me.

Day 2, Monday: We visit preschool, and Olivia does fine until I leave to go talk to one of the directors. She spends the next 45 minutes crying hysterically and is blotchy and heaving when I walk back in. I am crushed but repeat my new mantra: It won't be like this for long. Frank works and has class, and even though he gets home earlier than expected, I decide the best way to proceed is to take the day off. After all, even professionals take a day off, right? And after this morning...

Day 3, Tuesday: Tuesdays will end up being one of my running nights when I head back to work after Labor Day, so I'm planning on hitting the gym when Frank gets home. God apparently feels I've done something wrong and has punished me with crippling stomach pains (thank you, GI system of an 80 year old). Olivia spends the day watching TV so Mommy can rest on the couch. No zoo. No gym. And Olivia starts daycare tomorrow for the morning to help her adjust more smoothly. I'm miserable.

Day 4, Wednesday: Wake up feeling physically better but mentally anxious for Liv's morning at daycare. Drop her off. She is crying mercilessly and attempting to become some sort of appendage jutting out of my torso. I leave quickly knowing in my heart that this is best and head straight for the gym. Not only will the workout get my mind off Liv's tears, but there is zero reception in the fitness center forcing me to move-on. As a result I bike for 30 minutes before running 2 miles on the treadmill. My body feels great in the moment, and since I'm coming back tomorrow, I skip the abs and weights. I feel confident that I will be ready for the half-marathon. I go home and ice the knee. Hours later, it starts throbbing. I eventually take some ibuprofen and consider rethinking my goal to running at least 10 miles of the 13.1 and walking the rest. Totally feasible and achieveable. Totally.

Day 5, Thursday: Same as yesterday regarding daycare. I'm an awful Mom. The image of my daughter screaming and reaching for me as I exit the room are seared into my brain. I do 30 minutes on the bike where your feet are under your hips (the ones used in any spin class). I now see why people take spinning class and rank this machine above the eliptical. In a heat of the moment decision, I actually try to lift my butt of the seat (which is how every spinning class is portrayed on the big screen so it must be the way to go!). My butt gets a half-inch off the surface and immediately betrays me by sitting back down. If it could talk, it would say, "Get a grip, warrior princess, I ain't no fool." I follow it up with strength training and abs. I'm the strongest mom in the world. Tomorrow I'm gonna convince my friend, Amy, to run the half-marathon with me so that our daughters will one-day be inspired by our feat.

Day 6, Friday: I set my alarm to wake me up by 5am so I can hit the gym or pavement before Frank has to go to work. The alarm goes off. It's snooze button central in our bedroom. I decide that no one should wake up to work out at 5:30am the Friday before Labor Day. I'll work out later... or tomorrow. I see Amy at Gymboree class, and she's on-board for the race. We agree to meet for monthly long runs. I'm flying high on her momentum and sign up while Liv is sleeping. I'm now 100% committed. Frank gets home early from work, allowing me to squeeze in a quick neighborhood run. It turns out, our town name includes the word "Hill" because of the terrain. And Hurricane Earl is headed north, so the sun is back! My face feels like its on fire and my thighs hurt in ways that can't be good. BUT my knee feels fine! A tiny speck of light at the end of the tunnel. I run for 21:45, which according to Map My Run is 1.66 miles. Not bad for the 2nd outside run that I've done in months and the first hilly run, too! Olivia is so excited to see me as I walk [uphill] to our front door that I realize if she's at the finish line, I'll know I've done something incredible. This thought is quickly dashed when she begins crying because I'm too sweaty to pick her up. The three of us head inside before the neighborhood thinks I'm neglecting my child.

Day 7, Saturday: Wake up late which along with many other wonderful life moments prohibits me from getting to the gym. I decide God is clearly insisting I take a day off and eat cake -- well, maybe the cake was stress eating but if God didn't want me to eat cake, why on earth would he have created double chocolate layer cake decorated with white chocolate shavings??? I'm not a rocket scientist but it's indulgences like this that may have caused my weight loss to plateau. So I decide to spend 45 minutes gardening, which according to my blackberry app, FatSecret, burns 221 calories. I ride the momentum and do some core strengthening exercises while watching Degrassi. Week one done. I may or may not be screwed. Stay tuned.

13.1 Miles in 79 Days!

I've been thinking a lot about the Philadelphia Half-Marathon lately. After running Broad Street, I had my sights set on the Philadelphia Distance Run, a race much discussed in the running community due to its ease (for non-runners, read: flat course), but due to circumstances this race has alluded me the past 4 years... wedding, pregnancy, post-pregnancy, and this year: my left knee.

Problems started during my pregnancy - I experienced a great deal of pain using my left knee, mostly going up and down stairs and getting off the floor. Well, I figured a 70 pound weight gain will do that and just assumed it would get better as I lost weight. This was the same thought that I carried with me while training for Broad Street. As the May race grew near and the pain became more problematic with long runs and hills, I thought, "S*#@! This isn't getting better!" Concerned about completing Broad Street, I met with my physician, had an x-ray... then, an MRI... then met with a sports doc who specializes in running injuries (ok, so that appointment was after I had successfully completed 10 miles in 2:02 on a hot May day in Philadelphia). The good news: there were no tears, sprains, or other problems that would keep me from Broad Street. There was, however, a knee cap that was rubbing on bone and a super fancy Latin diagnosis. Oh, and the obligatory, "You really shouldn't run the race," followed by a prescription for physical therapy.

The physical therapy helped me really understand how weak my left leg (not my dominant) muscles were. I spent a good month not running and simply focusing on building up the muscles and ligaments that were left seriously weakened by my pregnancy (and did I mention the fat that came with it?). By the end of PT I was bounding up stairs and practically leaping from a floor-sit! But running still hurt like a SOB. My dreams of actually completing the Philadelphia Distance Run (now, the Philly Rock-n-Roll Half-Marathon) were fading off into the proverbial sunset.

Seeing my dismay... or more like, hearing my complaints, the knee doc recommended a series of protein-shots injected into my knee to help build up the cushioning around the knee cap. Despite my intense and paralyzing fear of needles & shots, I sucked it up, got insurance approval, and went once a week for FIVE weeks. SIDE NOTE: ask for a skin numbing spray, something I didn't know about until the doc happened to use it at week 4.

SUCCESS! After week 4, I really noticed the difference. I'm still taking precautions and strengthening the muscles, but I am finally back on my feet. But I digress...

I've certainly missed the window of opportunity to finish the Distance Run (which even if I could pull off 13.1 miles right now, registration is closed). I decided instead to go back to my roots and run the Philadelphia Half-Marathon! This was my first long, "official," run way back in 2006 when a colleague encouraged me to give it a shot. I've been running distances ever since (minus that brief 15 month hiatus called child-bearing).

So I have about 12 weeks to train my body and brain to run 13.1 miles (again). And with my most recent 2 mile jog being my longest run since Broad Street, I have quite the feat ahead of me. Oh, and did I mention, I have only run outside once since then?

No matter! I can do this! I will do this! I have to do this - I've already registered (sickly trumpet sound effect: mwah wah). So if you're game, bored, or curious, check back frequently for updates. Join me at the starting line. Or cheer me on, near or far. Either way, mark the date: November 21st, 2010.

Broad Street

It was over 70 degrees by the time the race started at 8:30am; it had rained slightly around 8am, so the humidity was already so high that many runners had that sticky, shiny glean to their skin. Add 30,000+ bodies to the mix, and well, you get the picture. Hot.

The last time I ran this race was in 2008, just before I got pregnant with Liv. In the two years since, the race organizers added colored starting corrals. I found this incredibly helpful at having a smooth start, AND it was a nice surprise to see that my clocktime was only off by 2 minutes because they re-started the clock with each new wave. Granted, I didn't know that until late in the day on Sunday when I checked for my results, but still pretty cool. Not following? Many races do a chiptime in addition to the clocktime. The chip in the chiptime is something that each individual runner wears on them (this year, it was in the bibs) -- like an official stopwatch for each person. When the runner crosses the starting line, the chip time starts, and conversely, when the runner sails over the finish line, the chip time ends. Now, officially there is also a race clock which starts with the gun and continues until the last runner crosses the finish line OR the course closes, whichever comes first. What often happens in a race as large as Broad Street is that the runners at the back of the pack don't cross the start for a good 10 - 20 minutes (if they're lucky) after the gun signals the start of the race. Before there were chip times, these runners were officially clocked as having run a time that was 10 - 20 minutes (or more) longer than what they actually ran the course. Are you still with me? In fact, I didn't actually cross the starting line until around 9am -- a good 30 minutes after the elite runners took off (to put how fast they are in perspective, the winner finished in 48:10 -- a little over 18 minutes after I crossed the start).

Another negative byproduct of this is that runners will crowd the front of the starting corral, making the first 2 miles or so a combination of running and shoving as the faster runners try to maneuver around the slower runners or those who are already walking. It's a pain for everyone (fast or slow) and it can really screw up someone's pace (again, fast or slow). The colored starting corrals made it nice because it automatically started everyone with other runners paced similarly, AND they restarted the official clock with each new start.

So, now that all the non-runners are bored and have stopped reading this post... I was hoping to go sub-2 hours, which for most runners is pretty slow, but for me, is a nice, comfortable pace right now. I ran the race 3 years ago in about an hour and a half, but since I'm still carrying about 20 extra pounds of baby weight and am having problems with my knee, I thought less than 2 hours was a great goal. I really wanted to take my time with this race and enjoy it. I wasn't out to set any records, just to run. That's what I do. Run.

The day did not start off well when I woke up feeling nauseous and unsettled. Thankfully, nature took its course and breakfast helped, but my goal quickly lessened to, "Finish the race, dammit!" or even just, "Get to that starting line!" The forecast was gloomy: hot, humid, headwind, partly cloudy. The race organizers did a fantastic job adjusting; they increased the amount of water available at the water stops and opened up fire hydrants along the route. I found the latter incredibly helpful when for the first 3 or 4 miles, my face and neck felt like it was on fire. At most of the initial water stations, I just dumped the cup on my head in the hopes that my body would start cooling down. By mile 4, I was good but still found the hydrants invigorating. By mile 8 I was soaked, unfortunately with squishy feet -- never a good thing for a distance run. During the run, I heard a girl say, "What a waste of water." I almost yelled at her but decided it was better to reserve my energy. Moron.

Why the big deal? A few years ago at the Chicago Marathon, the temperatures were so high that at least one person died running the race. Runners at the back of the pack complained about lack of water at hydration stations and the finish line. Many of the runners didn't finish at all, and organizers took a lot of slack for being ill-prepared for the disastrous situations. Even with all the added measures taken by the organizers of the Broad Street Run, many of the runners did not finish. There were over 30,000 registered runners, and to date, according to the website, only about 26,200 finished.

I digress. In light of the weather, I opted to run at an even slower pace than my goal (and who knew what my stomach would hold). Helping this was the fact that I forgot my watch and had no way to anal-retentively mark my splits and obsessively track my progress. So, I decided to just let it all go, enjoy the view, and run. Crazy, I know.

And it ended up being the most enjoyable Broad Street Run I've done! According to my neighbor's watch, we hit mile 1 in about 10:30, so I hit the brakes and allowed her to surge onward. I tracked my approximate splits by remembering what the official clock said from the last mile. My pace was around 12 to 13 minutes each mile, and I felt great. I walked through all the water stations save one because it seemed to come on the heels of the last one. I took a swig and then dumped whatever I didn't want directly on my head. I paid attention to the crowd, the other runners, and most importantly, my body.

Running through North Philly for the first 4 miles was my favorite section. By choice or chance, the on-lookers there are the best. There was a group of older gentlemen sitting in beach chairs right near the road screaming, "They went that way!" and "That way to Albuquerque!" There was a woman who came running down to the road asking, "What's going on?" I guess seeing over 30,000, by this point mostly white, runners headed down Broad Street is odd. She then proceeded to yell at someone [I couldn't see] and cuss him out. Aaah the drama. And there was the woman between mile 3 and 4 who told us we "were more than halfway!"

After running through a few hydrants and getting my skin temp regulated, I could clearly see City Hall on the horizon. It looked fantastic, and I just kept thinking, City Hall is so incredible from this view -- keep going! So I chugged along through mile 6 and found my stride and an energy gel. Runner's high, exhaustion or the need to urinate kicked in and miles 6 through 8 came easily. I was hoping to see the vice-wife with Riley at mile 8, but apparently the wedding festivities from the night before were too much to overcome, and her lazy butt didn't get out of bed until around the time I finished the race. Either way, the possibility of a friendly face made mile 7 go by pretty quick. At mile 8, my legs started to stiffen, but with only 2 miles to go, it was mentally easy to keep moving. By this point, the street became lined with spectators, which no one wants to walk through. There are little things that pop up in the last 2 miles that make for great milestones: the interstate overpass, the stadiums, the race photographers, and the entryway to the Navy Yard. It's easy to get swept away in it all, so I tried to maintain my pace until the point at which I knew I could sprint a little. But, honestly, my sprinting after 10 miles is as fast as Olivia's crawl. It's also easy to start speeding up too soon and run out of gas just before the finish line, but I timed it just right. In my mind, I was running as fast as a Kenyan.

Chip time: 2:02:45
Clock time: 2:04:15

Walk back to car: forever.
Number of Motrin taken that day and the next: A lot.
Feeling when I crossed the finish line: Priceless.

Skinny News

Oh and by the way, did I mention that I'm down to a 27.14% BMI??? That's right, Wii Fit, eat your heart out. Yesterday morning it actually told me my posture had improved. Is it healthy to be completely satisfied about putting a cartoon, video game character in it's proverbial place? Didn't think so.

I would also like to brag that I finished The Narberth Run - a hilly, 5 mile course - last weekend in 54:43, chip, and 55:23, clock, with an 11:04 (clock-time) pace AND sprinted the last bit, passing 3 people. In fact, my last mile was in 9:46! I even got a high-five from a race volunteer with a "You did awesome!" Because I DID! I'm gonna rock Broad Street tomorrow. Or die of heat exhaustion due to high temps and a headwind but where does pessimism get you? Certainly not 10 miles!

So, be sure to keep an eye out for running photos. Once I find the energy to download them from mine or Frank's phone and then edit and upload. Given my recent track record, this could take some time. Stay patient, friends, stay patient.

Do Over?

Why the last 48 hours have sucked and I am formally requesting a do over from God:

Yesterday I got to work early enough to buy hot cocoa -- my ubermost fave thing to have in the morning. Go me. Good day projected.

Then, while working in a middle school, my most feared event [circa high school] occurred. I go home in order to partake in the bambino's school's Winter Gala (starring the infant rooms as snowflakes or snowmen or snowsomethings) and whilest changing my clothes, receive a phone call 35 mins before I'm to be at the school stating that my daughter has thrown up twice and needs to be picked up immediately. No Gala for me.

I arrive at Infant Room A, 20 minutes before showtime, and find all babies in their snowthing outfits (all white home-sent couture with black knit hats). For the first time EVER, Olivia does not get upset that I haven't picked her up as soon as I walked into the room. In fact, she is looking around at all the other Flakemen & smiling and babbling. She then makes eye contact with me and smiles more, as if to say, "Look, Mommy, we are going to put on a show!" She looked adorablely cute as a snowwhatever, and my heart broke. Although, I'm not sure it broke because she was missing out or because I was missing out and didn't have my blackberry [to take photo proof of her stunningness]. I vaguely remember Ms. Teacher saying something about messy, vomit-covered items but am so enamoured by my daughter's hugably cute Snowgirl outfit, I hear only the guilt-ridden, sadness of my inner-voice. And due to the 24 hour no-vomit policy of daycare, Liv can't go back until Friday.

We go home to meet Daddy and head to the doc's so that they can inevitably take our $15 and tell us that our child does not have a life-threatening illness. Fast forward one hour, and we are home having heard just that. On the plus side, I was able to schedule h1n1 shot #2. I start to sift through the two loads (hers and mine) of stained laundry that needs to be done. I discover what was once a white shirt that is currently coated in pea-green (guess what we had for lunch) vomit. My hand cramps from using the spray bottle of Dreft. After putting in the first load of laundry, I decide to head to the gym.

I stop feeling my arms & lose the ability to speak about 20 minutes into the hour-long endeavor called "Core Conditioning & Dance Aerobics." We do moves that remind me of The Chorus Line, and the fact that the instructor is wearing a midriff bearing top does nothing to dispute this. I dance my heart out... literally... but am pretty sure I didn't make the final cut because when I am finished I am too tired to speak to anyone. Silently, I congratulated myself on making it to class, and secretly, I sang "One" and imagined myself in sequins.

I get home and am greeted by the second pile of laundry and prepping for Liv's day with Mom Mom so Frank and I can both go to work and not lose anymore moula. I decide that God made Chinese food leftovers & half a Cherry Coke Zero for moments just like these. I block out the dance instructor's booming voice about squeezing muscles with the whirring of the microwave heating up my sesame chicken & rice.

Only one of our horribly stained loads of laundry came clean... Mommy will now be spending her treasured Christmas gift card on a new pair of khakis. Lovely.

I then spend most of the evening getting ready for today and not going to sleep until midnight, causing me to oversleep by 20 minutes. A precious 20 minutes when I need to leave exactly 30 minutes earlier than usual AND explain to Mom Mom how the schedule goes.

I leave my house at 6:50am, drive to Rebekah's house, and we proceed to travel the one and three-quarters hour to Harrisburg. I sit in a small room for 7 hours to hear people "instruct" me on how to do my job. I get home at 6pm, just in time to nurse Liv and put her to bed.

Do over, please?

Listen, are you going to have those TPS reports for us this afternoon? No.

Weigh-In

So I weighed in yesterday and lost 0.4 pounds. Another baby step in the right direction. I also successfully went to the gym on all my planned days (MWFS)! My eating has been awful over the week, but I feel good about the upcoming week and subsequent weigh-ins.

Yesterday also marked Olivia's first swim class! She and I had a ton of fun splashing around, and I felt pretty good in my new swimsuit (hopefully, she felt just as great in hers!).

In other big news, Olivia turned 9 months old today. Keep an eye on the blog for pictures from the monthly photo shoot & an update on her many talents.

Post-Resolution Thoughts

I weighed in this past Saturday and am down 0.2 pounds. A baby step in the right direction and thus a victory! My plan [with Frank in agreement] is to work out Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings, Saturday mornings and sometimes on Sundays. Building off of last week's holiday momentum, I stuck to my plan.

I ended up making the core conditioning class at the Y which rolled right into "dance aerobics."

PROs
1. Dance aerobics turned out to be zumba which is awesome.
2. I'm a Latin dancing queen.
3. I cannot feel my arms or legs because both workouts were so good.

CON
1. Someone asked when I was due on the way out.

I now need to go to every class in order to not look pregnant anymore. (Mwah Mwah)

And the PROs have it! I'll be going back.

Reality Check

Friday marks the start of 2010. Resolutions abound this time of year -- losing weight, stop smoking, eat this not that, work less, blah blah. Years ago I stopped making resolutions to not do things and started thinking of things that I could do that would enrich my life and the lives of those around me. Oh, wait, that was Lent. Nevermind.

My Christmas present from Frank was twofold: a trip to Vegas to see Garth Brooks (half of which I paid for) and a gym membership (which I've been desperately missing since we moved two Julys ago). So, my "New Year's Resolution" is to make weight loss a priority - a little generic and unoriginal but a big deal for me. However, there is strength in bandwagon numbers: the area gyms are all running promotions. I've been researching a few, and we ultimately decided to get a YMCA membership. Some friends have it which means that we can all take classes together or have pool playdates over the summer. Also, it was the best bang for our proverbial buck. The whole family has access to Y programs (Olivia will be starting swim lessons in 2 Saturdays!), and the monthly fee is still less than some other gyms. Ultimately, though, the number 1 reason we sought out the YMCA: they are running a special right now, waiving the application fee ($150). SOLD to the family on the left with the 9 month old! Oh, alright, we'll take the 1 week free trial membership just to make sure.

Today I decided to check-in with my current bad-ass self... turns out I'm more flabby-ass than bad-ass. Still, I woke up this morning and said, you are going to evaluate what's going on with your body. This was, truth be told, a tad depressing. Once upon a time I was a size 4/6 wearing a cute string bikini and heels (not at the same time -- I'm not a porn star). I had muscles and abs of steel. Now I have the knowledge that I have abs underneath the stretched skin surrounding my navel area. Overshare? My bad.

The silver-lining? I've lost 36 pounds since giving birth to Olivia. My shape still wears clothes well... as long as they have no waistband whatsoever. I eat much better than I did before... except chocolate and Chick-fil-A. In fact, I've only gained 0.4 pounds since my last Wii weigh-in one month ago. (To be fair, though, I had lost 2 pounds before the holidays and gained 3 over the holidays.) And I've always felt like cardio-workouts were the missing link. The necessary chute in my Chutes and Ladders Game of Life. The Gabba Gabba! to my Yo.

So, today I stood on the Wii and saw that I had 30 more pounds to go and a BMI of 28.43%. I looked at myself in the mirror and watched in horror as parts shook even though I stood motionless. I felt the pain radiating from my thigh- and butt-muscles due to the mere 35 mins on the eliptical machine yesterday. I realized that in signing Olivia up for swim lessons, not only would she need a swimsuit, but so would I. Then, I went to the Y and made the temporary membership a permanent full one. Angels sang. Wait, I'm sorry, that was the pain resonating in my bum still. So sorry for the confusion.

So here we go, friends. Off on a mission to lose the rest of this weight. Join me. Or at the very least, support me.

HIIT

Today I had a much-needed day off, so Olivia and I picked up where we left off and headed to the mall for some good ol' mall-walkin'. Unfortunately, Rebekah and Avery couldn't make it because of illness (get better soon, Rebekah!!) but we had a good time. We did a wonderful 3.1 miles. Usually when we walk solo, we tend to walk a tad slower and far less than when Rebekah and I can chat away. In order to combat this, I did something called HIIT (high intensity interval training). It's super easy to do and is a wonderful way to pump up any workout. Essentially, you specifiy interval lengths pre-workout (time-based OR distance-based) and spend the longer interval really pushing yourself to exercise harder (think, totally out of breath and/or unable to maintain a conversation). Then, take a shorter interval and go at or below your normal pace; this gives your body a chance to recover before the next burst. Today, I chose to speed walk for .5 miles, maintaining a speed of 3.7 - 4.0. Then, for .3 miles (the jogging stroller pedometer only goes to the tenth spot), I would walk at a speed of no more than 3.5. What's wonderful about this is that by focusing on the intervals and not the whole, the workout tends to go by much faster (mentally and actually), so we did the 3.1 miles in about 45 - 50 minutes.

There's a science behind why HIIT works, but I couldn't begin to explain it. If you would like to know more, go to the following articles from Runner's World. Enjoy and good luck!

Lactic Lift-Off

Beyond the Burn

The Science of Speed

Mix Up Your Routine with New Types of Workouts

Ruminations

In keeping with my get-out-and-move attitude, I went mall walking, Liv in tow, both yesterday and today despite Rebekah and Avery's absence. The solitude was somewhat of a welcome change given some recent events, but I'll be honest in that we didn't walk nearly as far as when our counterparts join us. And, well, we both missed the company.

There is beauty in the mall just before it opens. We arrived at different times each day. While I'd like to say that this was done intentionally (to stray from routine in case some demented psychopath is stalking me), truth be told, we just couldn't get ourselves out the door. It's interesting how quickly I can get us moving when there is a set meeting time with another person. Even if Liv throws up half her breakfast, we are in the car by a certain time and at the mall within 10 - 15 minutes of the agreed upon hour. Yesterday we had to get there early due to a cable appointment conveniently scheduled for 11am - 1pm, and today there was no rush so when Olivia spit up most of her breakfast, I didn't care that I had to change her nor did I rush.

Seeing the mall at these two times made the walks different. It's intriguing how much difference an hour makes. The stores don't open until 10am, so with an 8:15am arrival, it's much more placid, verging on eerie. Without the friendly discourse, I am forced to pay attention to the subtle nuances -- employees arriving, stores preparing for the day, fellow walkers, and even a retiree social club. I noticed that there are two types of music that pipe through the speakers. In the high end section of the mall, light, classical music plays, but in the more heavily traveled area of the mall, there is an adult contemporary sound. The shift occurs quickly and most likely goes unnoticed by most. I consider this as a bell chimes in the background; I had never noticed that one marked every quarter of the hour. The quiet of the building allowed me to ponder how things had been going: Liv getting her cast off and adjusting to the orthopedic brace, all the things I needed to buy (clothes for work, office supplies, wine, Chick-fil-A -- I didn't say that my purchases were absolutely necessary), which led me to consider my return to work after Labor Day. Olivia will be headed to day care; the transition is both exciting and nerve-wrecking. Being alone with just my thoughts created this refreshing stream of consciousness. After 45 minutes we jetted back to the car, sticking to the original schedule so that we could be home to greet the cable guys.

Today we arrived about 1 hour after yesterday's time, and the atmosphere was a sharp contrast to the day before. The mood was lighter with more electricity in the air. I found myself walking faster without trying. The smells even seemed to be bolder. This proved problematic since I had $3 on me and was trying not to spend it on food. (Chick-fil-A makes these incredible chicken biscuit mini-sandwiches...) The stores are on the verge of opening, and the energy was exciting. I thought more about the clothes I needed to buy, staring at the windows, mentally salivating at the designs, trends, and colors for the season. I consider what I should spend and what fit I should gravitate toward. Just the day before, I flipped through Frank's J. Crew catalogue but set it down exclaiming, "Mmm, these styles just don't look good in fat." There is still so much more weight that I would like to lose, so it doesn't make sense to spend a lot of money on clothes that I hope will fall off me in the near future. To me it's a conundrum; the more money I spend, the better the variety, fit and/or quality of clothing, but I may only wear the clothes for a month (if all goes as planned). At that point I will need more clothes. It's cyclic until I reach my goal weight and frustrating. For some reason, I am reminded of a woman I met the day before who told me that she named her newborn daughter so that the initials spelled J.E.M. My thought: as in And The Holograms?

This leads me to the pondering that stuck with me as the day went on; it occurred as the Clover Hill Wine Outlet was opening: I wonder how early they do tastings...

Don't worry, I didn't go in. This time.

TEN!

It's official, according to the Wii Fit, I've lost ten pounds since June 11th! That puts me at 30 pounds lost since delivering Liv. Thanks to Rebekah for meeting at the mall about 3 times per week to walk around. I encourage anyone with a stroller to try it. It's usually pretty empty since the stores don't open until 10am, it's air conditioned, and we easily hit 4 miles most days (unless one or more of the li'l ones deems otherwise). Also, I find a lot of comfort in the Change One book (see link under "Places to Go" at right). BTW, for any breastfeeding moms, Nordstroms at the King of Prussia mall has a women's lounge on the 3rd floor which also has a nursing mother's room. Very helpful!

Celebration & Week 3... Snacks

Friday marked the start of Week 3 in Change One: Snacks. It also marked the 3rd consecutive day of something huge in my weight loss journey. My BMI went below 30! This means that I am no longer classified as "obese," just "overweight." I will say this -- the Wii still has that tiny Ralph Wiggam voice that yells out "That's overweight!" after measuring your weight & making the calculations. Still, it was a huge victory for me. Of course, we concluded the week with some Famous Dave's for dinner, so this morning my BMI went back up over 30. Two steps forward, one step back but it's still an overall downward trend. We were at a Phillies game tonight that included a BBQ competition beforehand so I'm dreading tomorrow's weigh-in. On a different note, is it weird that I love how the Wii graphs your progress and data? I love graphs.

So I'm working on eating better snacks as well as maintaining breakfast and lunch as of yesterday. I've been doing really well maintaining breakfast and lunch. Snacks are tough, not because I want to eat poorly but more because I need to eat more than what this plan suggests due to breastfeeding Olivia. This plan recommends 2 snacks that are no more than 100 calories each. Unfortunately, I need to get an extra 500 calories in my diet to ensure that Olivia gets enough milk. So, instead of limiting myself to two snacks, I'm paying attention to when I'm hungry and eating a healthy snack that is between 100 and 200 calories. I try really hard to make sure the snack contains protein and fiber and more often than not has a dairy/calcium component. It's going well... except today. I do love pulled pork and other BBQ eats. Of course I was rewarded with a stomachache.

Monday is Olivia's 4 month birthday!! We will definitely be having a photo shoot so be on the lookout. I also will be posting some other pictures of her and some of the babies from the prenatal yoga class I took in my first and second trimesters. It's fun to see all the ladies again and the babies that we only knew as "bumps." Stay tuned!

Change One

In early July I did my usual weigh-in with the Wii Fit followed by the balance tests and an amazing thing happened. The "Wii Age" that the thing gives you was LESS than my real age. All along the damn thing had been issuing snide comments about how my "Wii Age" was x number of years more than my real age and wasn't I feeling weaker. Well, when the number it spewed forth was 22, I wanted to scream, "In your face, Wii!" I didn't but mostly because Frank was sitting on the couch watching. I have to vent my frustration in that there were no positive comments from the cartoon balance board on the screen - nothing along the lines of "Way to go!" or "Don't you feel amazing!" All the stinking remarks about how out of shape I am, and when I do something incredible, it's just another day.

I digress. The point I am making is that shortly after that milestone, I fell off the proverbial wagon. I stopped doing my daily weigh-ins and weekly training sessions. I no longer wrote down what I ate or how much water I consumed. I naively coasted by on the afterglow of success.

Then 4 days ago, I stepped on the Wii balance board for a random weigh-in. Not bad but not great. Nothing to fear. The next day I did the same... hmmm, it's gone up. Alright, no biggie; nothing to panic about. On the third day, it rose again. My weight, my BMI, my Wii age. I was now almost 40 in Wii years. Time to take action.

So, I broke out my book called Change One and started reading. This is the book that helped me lose the 50 pounds before. The idea is that making one small change a week for 12 weeks will help you lead a healthier lifestyle. It recommends 1300 calories for everyone, but if you are heavy or active (30 mins of movement most days), it suggests 1600 calories. However, it isn't about counting calories; you use guidelines for portion control and meal planning. It's about lifestyle changes, not "dieting." My fellow behavior analysts will agree that changing in steps will lead to great results, so here I go [again].

The first week is Breakfast, which everyone should be eating! Research shows a healthy breakfast makes you feel full and tends to result in healthy eating throughout the day. Anyway, on this plan, they suggest eating 1 starch, 1 dairy and 1 fruit. So yesterday and today I enjoyed hot oatmeal with soy milk and a banana. I'm on the 1600 calorie plan so I double my starch and have all the oatmeal in the packet, not just half.

I feel good about this. Yesterday we took a 40 minute walk to the Acme; today I ran 25 minutes; later, we walked to the Bryn Mawr Farmer's Market. When I got home I ate a peach. The mindset is helping already; I made cupcakes for IFHN which they ended up not needing so I decided not to ice them and have been enjoying just one at a time.

Now, I just need to keep at it. Stay tuned for updates.

Happy Belated 4th of July!

I'm including some pictures from Independence Day weekend as a Happy 4th of July from Olivia. She had her first "event" over this past weekend (on her 12 week birthday), participating in the Swarthmore Independence Eve 8K. Ok, ok, she participated in the corresponding walk, doing the almost 3 miles with Mommy, Daddy and Mom Mom. Daddy and Olivia finished in 50 minutes, while Mommy and Mom Mom finished in 51 minutes. Everyone walked faster than last year! Yay!

Here she shows her game face, mentally preparing for the walk.




And here is a special picture of Olivia's new trick: blowing bubbles and sometimes raspberries! Thanks, Mom Mom!

Love Assets

My recent run/walk felt good throughout; however, my thighs did not. The other unfortunate thing about the weight difference is that I don't have many workout clothes that fit, so I've been scrounging to find the shorts or tops that I can squeeze into without embarrassing myself in front of the neighbors. I'm also remembering why I bought a lot of compression shorts -- you know, those sexy, tight, lycra-like shorts. For those of you who are size zeros, you may not know this, but some of us have thighs that touch. Gasp. I know it's tough to imagine but not everyone walks around wearing shorts or skirts pain-free. Especially on these wonderful, northeastern, humid days. Nothing like a good thigh-chafe to get you going in the morning. Now, in the sports-world, there is this amazing product called Body Glide. For those of you non-athletes, it looks like deodorant but you spread it on areas of your body that could chafe after long periods of movement. For me -- the thighs. It's like wax or vaseline or something and prevents chafing. It's fantastic; in fact, I use it for non-running events (when I need to wear a dress or skirt sans pantyhose), too.

In order to get to my point, I need to share another story for background purposes. About 4 weeks after I had Olivia, Frank and I trekked to Long Island for his cousin's wedding. Frank was a groomsman, so while I stayed with Olivia in our hotel room (it had a kitchenette complete with refrigerator, which is why I agreed to take a 4 week-old), he attended the wedding. So that I could participate in something, his mother agreed to watch Liv while we both went to the rehearsal dinner. I wore a dress that I had purchased to wear for this, another wedding, and Olivia's baptism. When I tried the dress on, I was feeling okay about it. I thought I looked pretty good considering I had just popped out a kid a few weeks before; it wasn't my first choice but nonetheless, a good one. I was able to do my hair and make-up for the event, and I even wore heels! I was feeling so on top of my game. Four weeks after giving birth to a baby girl, I was wearing make-up and heels! And then it happened. A moment that totally shattered my self-confidence. A woman (my own gender betrayed me!) said when are you due? Sigh. And bam, just like that, shot through the heart. I ordered wine immediately. When I told her I had just had a baby, she apologized, told us of her under 6 month old child, and tried to regroup. But the damage was done.

In light of both of these stories, I knew I had to do something for Olivia's baptism that would help hide the post-partum tummy weight and keep my thighs from chafing (so that I wouldn't have to wear stockings with open toed shoes). So I ran to Target in search of some sort of body suit -- a compression short for my whole self, if you will. After frantically searching the many options for what would be best, I found "Love Assets." Or at least that's what I called them until I realized that's just the website; the name is apparently just Assets. They came in tops AND bottoms (priced separately of course!). I was a little ambitious with the size I got for the bottoms -- I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to do squats to get into these, and I may have heard a seam tearing (which I will never admit out loud). Ultimately, though, they did the trick! I'm not gonna say that they took 10 pounds off or anything, but no one asked when I was due. And they should be good for all future events, too. So here's to my love assets... and the body suits, too.

14:29

Once upon a time last year... a little more than 1 year ago, actually, I ran a 27 something 5K (meaning I ran it in just over 27 minutes). It was my PR, a shining moment in my running career. But that was then and this is now, and a few days ago I decided to time myself running 1 mile. Just one. One measly little mile. The good news is that I was able to run the whole thing -- whoo hoo! The other news (because it's not bad, it just is) is that I ran it in 14 minutes and 29 seconds. To put a positive spin on this, it means that I have a lot of room for improvement, so my time will only get better. I won't lie, as exhilirating as it was to run for almost 15 minutes, it was frustrating to only hit 1 mile. But, it is what it is and I continue on my journey toward 13.1 miles (in a row. without stopping.). Well, that and a better time for the mile.