Hello.

I want to tell you a story, but I don’t know how to start.

This has been the general place in my life for the past six months or so. I want to write– heck, I need to write for myself, really– but I haven’t been able to sit down and sit with myself.

Honestly, I feel like I haven’t been able to truly do that in months. I got close in Montana, where I sat quietly in a house and on trails and tried to come home to myself a little. I got part of the way there, I think, but the world moves so quickly and I had set so much of a goal of writing ~my next big thing~ (which I did and didn’t, at the same time), that I didn’t really just get to sit and breathe.

And it’s hard, because it feels so overwhelming at a certain point. How could I possibly catch up on the life that has happened in the past six months? The past year? There are so many things that happened– two marathons, a trip to Europe, starting my 7th year as a teacher– there’s no way. It feels so massive it doesn’t seem worth it to start.

Then, I had the privilege of being called mentioned as of Tom Rademacher‘s favorite teacher-storytellers. It was a huge honor, but also a big call out: hey, if you want to be a storyteller and a writer, you actually have to, ya know, tell stories and write

So, I’m going to try and step away from the laundry list of “things I should have written about.” I’m not going to worry about how to start. I just want to tell you some stories.


This is not a triumphant story.

Yesterday, I quit a running work out.

After running twenty-two miles on Friday morning, I had decided to take a brief break from running. In truth, I’ve been struggling for a few weeks now. In an effort to try and get faster or push myself to do more miles, I got in my head about running. My paces were too slow. My mileage wasn’t enough. I had to do more. Slowly, running became a chore that brought me anxiety. The thought of getting out there, just to deal with the terrible heat and running so slow and not enjoying myself, there was just a pit in my stomach.

That’s a difficult thing to admit. I’m writing while my kids watch a movie right now, and as I wrote that my eyes welled up without my expecting it. I used to love this sport, to the point where other people said my talking about it encouraged them to run. I’m so sad. I’m sad that I feel like I’ve lost running. I’m sad that this thing that used to bring me so much freedom and joy now just fills me with frustration. I miss the part of myself that found joy in running. I miss the sense of limitlessness that running used to bring me.

So, yesterday I tried to take a break. I did an Aaptiv strength work out, then decided to try a 38 minute speed work out on the track.

Now, I could list all the reasons this workout went wrong. It was too hot. I had just done a 35 minute leg work out. The boys PE class was also there, and while I love my kids, they make it difficult to zone out and do my run without feeling weird and self-conscious. The music in the workout was not my favorite.

But, as I did a final half-assed sprint down a 100m straight away, it hit me what the main problem was: I hate this. I was hot, sweat beads slipping into my eyes. My chest and stomach were burning (probably from eating a big lunch less than an hour before). My legs ached. I do not want to do this right now.

And just like that, I stopped. I looked at the sky around me, a beautiful bright blue with a smattering of clouds dropping the tuahine rain that makes Mānoa such a special place. It was so lovely out. Why wasn’t I able to enjoy that?

I didn’t have a clear answer, but I knew that until I did, I needed to take a step back and figure out what was going on. I slowly sauntered off the track, the rain feeling less like a gentle touch and more like prickly reminders of what I was leaving behind, unable to enjoy as I once did, and walked to the showers.

I am working hard not to beat myself up too much this week. I am trying to remember that, as down as I was, I still ran (a very slow) 21.6 mile run before going to work on a Friday morning. Somewhere in there is a runner that can key into the part that just loves running and let’s miles fly by.

So, I am trying to take a break and invest in myself. I bought a new running watch. I invested in a coaching plan. I’m trying to worry less about my times at Honolulu and Bird Marathon and focus on a marathon in March. I’m hoping to change things up to try and rediscover joy.

This is not a triumphant story.

At least, not yet.

Running Towards Hope

A confession: I’ve been hurting the past few days.

Nothing crazy, but I’ve been waking up feeling particularly tight and painful. I couldn’t figure out why: did I have rhabdo (I clearly didn’t.)? Did I need to break in my shoes more? Had I pulled something? Of course, at a certain point, it hit me that three months of three-a-days with very sporadic rest wasn’t a particularly healthy strategy and that the amount of strain I had put on my own muscles was likely just catching up with me.

So, after a painful 5k on Thanksgiving morning, I took the day off yesterday, since I knew that I had to go out and do my twenty-miler sometime this weekend. I rolled out last night, went to bed early, and prayed that this morning I’d magically feel better when my feet hit the road.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t. At least, not at first. I woke up feeling fine and, despite gusting winds and periodic storms, the cool weather boded well for me. This was a good day to go out and do the damn thing.

I was bummed to discover, though, that after a few miles I was still tight. My shins were screaming and my hips ached. What is going ON?! I mentally wondered to myself. I kept having to stop every half mile to try and stretch out to make the pain go away. I kept trying to breathe into my muscles, but I was really struggling to make this run work.

Then, right around mile 3, my arm grazed a pole in just the wrong place, tearing a huge hole in the sleeve of my favorite shirt. I groaned and stopped. “BRUH!” I yelled at the sky, at God, the way only a young, Catholic, CrossFit asshole can. What’s the deal? I asked. Do you want me to stop and turn around? What do you WANT from me?

I stopped, stretched, and breathed for a second.

I heaved a heavy sigh, and the questions came back to me: Are you present? Are you here? Are you listening?

And thing is, I knew the answer: No. I was caught up in my head, stewing in anger over some things happening in my life that had nothing to do with the run and, frankly, were out of my control. I had been holding all the anger and sadness in my body for days now, and was parsing through it during those first few miles.

I shook my head, frustrated that all this negativity was still affecting me. I shook out my body again, and continued to parse through my thoughts. After a few minutes, I came back to two questions for myself:

  1. As frustrated as I am, can I let it go? Could I accept that even if something is unfair, it may also be what’s right? Am I able to say a silent prayer of gratitude for the surfeit of love and light in my life and walk away?
  2. Even when we are working through anger, can I still act with kindness and love? Can I center on that and find forgiveness? Am I able to stand up for myself and name my hurt while still ultimately knowing that, in the end, compassion is the place I am moving towards?

As I looked at these questions, I knew what my answer had to be. Even if I didn’t feel like living up to them, I knew that the only way I could stay true to myself was to recenter myself with these questions as the compass. I knew that, if I could say yes to these things, I would be okay, and able to come back to the place of unfettered love and joy that makes me who I am.

So, I prayed for strength and grace, and began to run towards forgiveness. It wasn’t easy– forgiveness encompasses all the sadness and frustration of grieving.

As I ran, though, I thought about the rainbow I had seen that morning. In Christianity, the rainbow is the sign of God’s promise to His people after the great storm. It reminds us that, even when the rain comes for forty days, we ultimately believe that the universe will bend towards justice and good. It’s a reminder that, in the end, things will be better.

I kept running. In a lot of ways, forgiveness is an act of hope. It’s moving with the belief that hurt has occurred, but does not need to be dwelled in. It’s understanding that the only way to move past pain is with love. It’s knowing that we can move past pain in the first place.

With each step, God asked if I trusted that things would be okay. With each step, I affirmed that the answer was yes. Each step was a silent prayer of gratitude and hope, a testament to my faith that things would get better.

As I ran, my body loosened up. My hips settled a little more. I breathed a little more deeply. I knew that, even if this wasn’t going to be easy, I was going to get through it. I was going to be okay.


So, what’s next?

Well, I have two marathons within six days of each other, because that’s what I like to do. I’ll be running the Honolulu Marathon and then, later that week, run the inaugural Hawai‘i Bird Conservation Marathon. Since the latter is an all-downhill course (I know), I’ll be taking Honolulu nice and slow to see what I can do later that week.

Of course, I haven’t been training for any of this. I’ve been running, sure, but until today my longest distance has been 10 miles. Today was hard and painful (running into the wind for those last 6 miles didn’t help). So, honestly, if I can finish both of them with a smile on my face, I will be amazed and happy.

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The Home I Built Myself

Let’s be real: I’ve been all over the place these past few months.

Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings by agreeing. I know.

I’ve been living this crazy-12-hour-day life where I go from teaching to coaching to CrossFit to Jiu-Jitsu. I’ve rarely found time to be by myself, much less write (hence the quiet on this blog). I’m working too many jobs. I won’t even begin to tell you about the emotional turmoil I’ve put myself in recently (I am fine. I’m just going to have a lot of fun stories one day).

So, I’m sitting here on my couch, trying to write, and I look down at my sore body.

Honestly, I am covered in bruises right now.

I have one on my bicep from jiu-jitsu; my thighs are perpetually purple from working on cleans and snatches at CrossFit. I have some weird internal bruising on my knees from the 12-miler I did yesterday. I am sore everywhere.

And, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a really long time.

Let me explain: I’m not saying people should hurt themselves for the sake of self-discovery. What I’ve said above is true, but I’m not some crazy masochist beating myself into the ground. I’m recovering, taking supplements, icing when I need to, and taking days off when my body tells me it’s necessary.

That’s what ended up happening Sunday morning.

I went out for what I wanted to be a nice, mellow long run. I just got an Apple Watch a few weeks ago, which has finally allowed me to start tracking my runs again. Perfect timing, since the Honolulu/Hawai‘i Conservation back-to-back marathon extravaganza I have planned is just about six weeks away. I figured I’d do some easy double digits and get back in time to go to mass then play disc golf with some friends.

My body, though, had other ideas.

I went out Sunday morning, new compression socks on and everything, and my body completely fell apart. My calves started aching and seizing within the first half-mile. My shins were splinting (correct? do I care?). My hips were sore.

Admittedly, I had a little bit of a freakout moment. Oh my God, I worried to myself, am I losing it? Am I no longer a runner? I’ve been pretty lax in my running once Cross Country ended. Yes, I’ve likely been running more, but I don’t know that I break into anything but a casual jog while doing so. Instead, I’ve been focusing my efforts on other sports. Had I gone too far?

I tried to breathe through the pain but ultimately decided to stop and avoid injury. I reminded myself that while I hadn’t run the previous day, I had done some intense BJJ and gone to a two-hour intensive Yoga class. I decided to listen to my body, walk home, and try again the next day.

So, at 4:30AM on Monday morning, I went out for my first twelve-miler in months.

And it was lovely.

No, it wasn’t as fast as I was running last year (I was booking it at a steady sub-8:30 pace in Nov 2016. Recently, I’m right around 8:45. This particular run was a slow build to 9:19). And, yes, it was much harder to run without music than it was in the past. My running had certainly changed.

The thing was had changed too.

My feet pounded the pavement down Date street toward Diamond Head, and I felt my hips sink down towards the ground just like old times. I began thinking through just how crazy these past few months had been. I had torn down an entire section of my world, and the skyline of my life had a hole in it.

Years ago, the hole would’ve terrified me. The negative space in the busy outlook of my life would’ve made me feel incomplete and I would’ve hastily built the first structure that stuck to fill in the gap.

I turned the corner to go up Diamond Head’s long incline, ducked my head, and leaned into the hill. Half-way up, I turned and, through a hole in the trees, saw the stars and a beautiful nearly-full moon over the ocean.

I stopped.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the stars. I smiled wide and realized that sometimes when your life cracks, it lets moonlight in and you see a whole new part of the night sky you had been missing before.

I said a silent prayer of gratitude for the abundance of beautiful things in my life right now: meaningful work, an amazing family (blood and chosen), passions that pushed me to feel strong and empowered. I thanked God for the run and the night sky and the moment I was given to appreciate it all.

And then I turned and began to creep my way over Diamond Head and down long Kahala streets. It was dark and empty– only a handful of us crazies were up running or biking this early. Instead, there was nothing but the road, the rhythm of my feet, and the run.

And it hit me, then, that running helped me build my first home: the body I lived in each day.

Ultimately running is nothing but me, my body, and the road. As I work through miles, I find a comfort in the very existence of my own being, as bruised and broken and slow as it is. This home, this body is so far from perfect, yet so perfect in its present state because it is really, truly mine now.

See, the thing is this is the first time in a very long time I am doing things solely for my own joy. I am running because I love it. I’m doing CrossFit because want to. I worked to continue my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu training because I knew it was where I wanted to be. I’ve spent years building my world around other people– which I think can be healthy– but now, at 30, I’ve taken the reigns and am doing the things I want to do solely because I want to do them.

And that’s really exciting.

And I would have never gotten here without the chaos my life had survived.

We never know the outcomes of the decisions we make, but I still believe that ultimately they lead us where we need to be. We often can’t control aspects of our lives, but we can choose to be bitter or we can choose to move through it with grace and find joy.

Later the next morning, my students sang Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” with a verse I hadn’t heard before. It included the line:

And even though it all went wrong/I stand before the Lord of Song/with nothing in my heart but Hallelujah.

So, as the run allowed me to process these past few months, it also gave me the opportunity to see joy and grace in this home I had built. Everything else around it had crumbled. My body was bruised and hurting.

Yet, I stood at the top of Diamond Head on the way home, just as the first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon, and smiled. I chose to find the Hallelujah of my aching body as it ran the road to redemption all the way home.

This Is What You’ve Worked For: Honolulu Marathon 2016

It has been, in truth, far too long since I last wrote. 

I have a whole list of posts on the docket– things I have started writing, things that explain my absence, things that have been on my mind.

I hope to get to them, I do. For now, here are a few thoughts on this year’s Honolulu Marathon.



Pre-Race Thoughts

The Honolulu Marathon always feels like a homecoming of sorts.

This is my third year running the marathon, and since most of my races involve a plane ride to new and sometimes different climes (last year’s CIM was a brisk 39 degrees for much of the race! Quite different from Honolulu’s consistent 70-85 degree weather), it’s nice to have a course that I’ve trained on all year and a race that I can run from my apartment as my warm-up.

This year, I admittedly felt a strange bit of pressure about the race. After 6 years of marathon racing, I’m pretty quiet about my races now. I might share a post or two the day before a race, but I’ll generally keep runs to myself, lest I set myself up for epic failure.

That wasn’t so much an option this year. After sharing my running journey with KITV, plenty of folks knew I was running. I’m not fancy or anything, and I made it a point to say that I didn’t have a time goal this year, but I wanted to have a good showing at the very least.

I’ve been running pretty consistently at a 8:15-9:00 pace this year, and I secretly had hopes of hitting another sub-4 time at Honolulu (my previous being CIM last year). I had come so close at the Kauai marathon, and Honolulu’s course is far less hilly. Still, I didn’t want to throw my hat into a ring I hadn’t trained for, so with the exception of my boyfriend Chase, I kept those hopes to myself.

I had a hard time fitting in my twenty-miler over the weekend. Cheesy, but I rarely get to sleep in with my guy since we both work early morning jobs, so my willingness to, say, wake up at 4:45 AM to run twenty miles when I could just snuggle with him, has waned. So, I did another mid-week long run, fitting in my twenty-miler after work on a Tuesday, 10 days before the race.

I felt good going into the race, but I’m always one for cautious optimism, so I got my bib and just hoped for the best.

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The photographer made me giggle hard. It worked.


Race Report

Admittedly, I haven’t had a race go this smoothly mentally in quite a while. After a nice two-mile warm up from my apartment to the course, I shook out my pre-race jitters and felt ready to go.

The highlight of my morning was having one of my former students find me before the race! She was running her first marathon on her own, so we talked story before the race started. That was exactly the kind of mental boost I needed pre-race: a reminder of the excitement and joy encapsulated in this sport, and the kids who help me feel this way off the course.

Some Key Takeaways From This Year’s Race

  • The Honolulu Marathon is just a really fun race. You see families running together, folks who have flown in in ridiculous outfits, locals just going out there to try something new. It really felt like there were more spectators on the course this year, and Honolulu does an excellent job of having great volunteers the entire way. For me, this is incredibly helpful as a runner. It makes a race fun and spirited, which helps me keep a positive mindset throughout the race. The Honolulu
  • I wish Honolulu had pace corrals and that folks self-monitored where they start. It’s probably my only small issue with the race. I always have to fight through folks who are walking and taking photos in the first few miles. Don’t get me wrong– if that’s why you race, that’s great! But please, don’t start towards the front of the pack! Move towards the back/sides so those folks who are trying to make good time have a clear path.
  • Still, the course is gorgeous and well-managed. Really, I don’t know if Honolulu gets credit for being such a well-timed and mapped race. Not too hilly, great weather (Hawai‘i is always unpredictable, but December is probably the best bet), fuel and medical stations well-manned and consistent throughout. I always feel like I’m in good hands with this race.
  •  This is me being an old race curmudgeon at this point, but knowing the really course pays off. For me, this being a hometown race really gave me an advantage as far as mentally preparing for what was to come. It was also a reminder that I have to study the course before I race! I used to be all fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, but I’m seeing now how useful it is to know what’s to come. Study!
  •  Train and plan for the toughest circumstances as far as fuel and hydration go. I had 5 or 6 friends talk about hitting the wall this year, and some folks blame watery Gatorade and humid temperatures. I was fortunate to miss this, and I think it’s for three reasons:
    •  I pretty much always train and plan for the apocalypse for Hawai‘i races– I don’t train with water or fuel so that on race day I run better than I train.
    •  The day of the race I follow a tip from my old SRLA race director: drink water and electrolytes at every aid station until at least the halfway point. This allows me to get ahead of any cramping issues before they happen. At the half point, I start assessing at every aid station what I think I need.
    • I’m very careful about eating and drinking in the week before the race. I start upping my water and sodium levels early on. The night before the race, I chugged some of boyfriend’s leftover Pho broth after my customary vermicelli bowl (thanks PHO’hana!), and I think the extra salt came in handy!
  • Racing without music is still the best option when I can. It sounds impossible to so many runners, and definitely was (and at times still is– I used it at Kauai when I struggled mentally) to me when I started, but I really think being super mindful as I ran helped me avoid cramping too.

I kept a solid 8:30-9:00 pace throughout. I was clocking right around 8:45 for the first 6 miles and decided if I could stay in that area throughout the race, I’d finish feeling good. Admittedly, the course generally flew by. My mental game felt strong, I smiled looking for folks I knew on the course, and just enjoyed the race. I was able to wave to and talk to some friends who were spectating, and see a few friends as I came back around from the halfway point. That’s the kind of stuff that makes racing really fun.

I finished at 3:53, 19th in my category, just shy of my PR and an 11-minute course PR! I think I could’ve hit a new PR, but since it wasn’t my plan, I didn’t push some of those early miles outside my general comfort zone. Plus, Honolulu is a hillier and much warmer course than CIM. So, I’m happy I finished with a smile on my face instead.

At the end, some former students were handing out medals. They clapped when they saw me. Needless to say, I lost it.

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Thanks Honolulu Marathon for the great photo!!


Reflections

At the end of the day, a marathon isn’t just a race, it’s the culmination of the months, weeks, hours of training you’ve put in to get to this point. Every mile you’ve run is a step toward the eventual finish line of the marathon.

For me, this third Honolulu marathon truly felt like a reward for all the hours of training. Every step of that race was built on other training runs I had put into that course. Every mile that I felt good at was a reminder: this is what you’ve built your body to do. This is what you’ve worked forEnjoy it.

As much as I’ve been trying new sports, I think one of the reasons I come back to distance running isn’t just about the space I make for myself or the meditative calm I find, but it’s also because there a few sports that so completely test whether you’ve trained and prepped for this moment. Running for that long is incredibly humbling. There is very little room for plain luck in a marathon. You need to put the hours in to be successful. No matter how gifted you are as a runner to begin with, trying to take down 26.2 is a test even when you do put in the work, much less without.

Is that, at times, difficult? Of course. But it also makes crossing that finish line only that much sweeter. screen-shot-2016-12-26-at-8-44-37-pm

God Meets Us Where We Are: On Running and Meditating

It’s been a crazy few weeks, and I know I need sit down to make some space to actually write for myself. EdWeek often takes up much of my writing time and brainspace.

Fortunately, over the break, I was able to carve out a piece to submit to OnBeing, one of my favorite programs ever. This weekend, they published my piece! You can read about running as moving meditation on their site. An excerpt:

A few months later, an acquaintance learned I was a marathoner and asked, “What do you think about while you run?” Without hesitation, I responded, “I meditate.”

I surprised myself. While I’d always considered myself a mindful person, I often had trouble meditating. I would get distracted by my phone, or bugs, or the wind, or how thirsty I was or how hot I was or a million other things. Running was not the zen, silent space I imagined I could meditate in. With my feet pounding and arms pumping, how was I finding inner calm?

I’m excited to push forward in my running, spiritual, and writing goals in 2016.

Rest for the Harvest: A Runner’s Letter to Winter Bodies

This past week, I embarked on a crazy attempt to run back-to-back marathons: I ran CIM on December 6th, then the Honolulu Marathon one week later.

I successfully completed both marathons, which is admittedly exciting and ridiculous. I’ll be honest: I’m proud of myself and grateful to my body for getting me here. I also know, however, that after such an event I’m going to need extra time to rest. I am trying to be okay with that.


Runner. Athlete. Warrior. Friend.

You worked this year. You threw your cap over the wall and decided not just to chase after it, but to leap over and tumble into a backflip on the way down.

So, you put your head down and you worked. You planted seeds and tended to muscles the way farmers tend to new sprouts. Your body was the garden now, and you were the farmer trying their hand at new crops. You nurtured and researched. You watered and wondered. You tilled the soil again and again, with each step hoping you were bringing something new into the rich brown earth of your being, pushing it towards bounty.

Then, you had no  choice but to patiently wait,  praying for rich harvest, hoping to be rewarded.

Yes, there were times of uncertainty. Times where you were unsure if you were putting your time in the way you needed to. You doubted everything: if the weather would be right, if you were watering enough, if the soil even had the nutrients it needed to begin with. You fretted over every weed of  an ache or when heated skies cramped your growth. You knew you had no choice but to trust the work you put in, and see what bloomed.

And you did that. One morning, as the sky turned light, so did your body, and you bloomed again and again. You reaped the harvest twice over, and it was sweeter than you could have imagined.

Now, though, winter comes, and everything folds in on itself. Everything curls into the folds of itself and seeks refuge and respite. Through some strange, silent, natural clock, the world knows that now is the time to slow time down and rest.

So, now, should you.

It is hard. The routine of hard work doesn’t fade as fast as the tan you gained working in the sun. It’s not some pair of gloves you throw off. You worry that the callouses you built and the sprouts you planted and the strength will disappear completely if you stop now.

You have to let that fear go. As before, you have to have faith in the work and training you put in. You need to trust that taking a moment to breathe will not undo the physical work you put in and that you will never let go of the mental fortitude you gained along the way.

Now, you need to let the spent soil of your legs regenerate. Let the fields of your muscles and sinews have time to heal. All farmers know this is as necessary as working the soil. You have to let the field gain back everything it put out with the harvest.

Don’t mourn the temporary breath, though. Celebrate in the fallow fields of your body. Learn to appreciate the gentle reshaping that comes with it. Love the softness that slowly seeps back into parts of you. Let yourself dig your hands deep into the rediscovered curves you lost, the places that were once hard and tight now made malleable. Smile as it molds in the heat of your hands.

Your body will be forever changing. You have learned that with work, with thought, with sheer will, you can remold it into the shape of your choosing. So, for now, smile as you choose healthy softness. Delight in the simple idea that you can rest now.

And be excited, because you know that someday soon, you will begin to grow again.

Running Home: Honolulu Marathon Race Report and Running Back-to-Back Marathons

Hey! So, as I wrote about a few weeks ago after PRing at CIM, I ran the Honolulu Marathon the next weekend! And it was crazy! And somehow I lived! It was a crazy week after and things aren’t as fresh in my memory, but I wanted to make sure I documented some things for future reference.

The Lead-Up

I flew home the Monday after CIM and felt tired and painfully sore. My legs kept cramping, and everything was tight. I could barely walk at some points, and stairs were ridiculous. Honestly, I was legitimately concerned I would be unable to run the race. How will my body be able to recover in time?! I thought. I was sure I would fail.

I knew that if I wanted to have a chance, though, I would need to push past this fear and not give up. I foam rolled every day and often, even using a muscle stick while teaching during class. I covered my legs with ice packs while I slept, mostly on my knees and hips where I had ached during the end of CIM. I stretched consistently.

I also immediately began regearing my diet towards building back as much muscle as I could. I focused on carbs and protein: a lot of teri-chicken bowls (a dish from Goma Tei that’s rice, chicken teriyaki, and an over-easy egg), green smoothies with flax and chia seeds, and any lean protein (mostly chicken and turkey) I could get my hands on. I also used dotFIT Amino Boost a few times during the week to try and aid in the recovery process (the UFC gym I train at loves dotFit, and they had a sale a few weeks back. I’ve been consuming this after every workout for the two weeks prior to CIM, as well as immediately after CIM).

On Wednesday, I ran a few miles to the convention center to pick up my bib. I had been walking fine that day, but a few steps into running I was surprised at how tight everything felt. My knees ached, and I knew I was going to need to loosen everything in my body if I wanted to try and run this. Even as I was running that warm-up, I was unsure if I could do this.

Still, once I got to the convention center and my body loosened up a bit, the mood there was contagious. It was full of folks who were so hyped to do this race, and I realized how lucky I was to live here and get to do it for an incredibly affordable price.  I decided to smile and give it my best. IMG_7681

The rest of the week, I just did my best to not get in my head, foam roll, and ice consistently. That was the best I could do.

 

 

 

 


 

The Race

Just some brief thoughts, since this race flew by fast:

  • I ran to the starting line from my boyfriend’s apartment– about a two mile warm up. It sounds nuts, but I’m so glad I did. It enabled me to stretch and start the race at my best
  • I found my friend and coworker Marc and his wife Si before the race. Normally, I’m big on solo racing (and I admittedly didn’t start with them), but I’m so happy I said hi and tried to be social. I think, as someone who generally has social anxiety, I tend to take these situations, make them an even bigger deal in my head, and shut out folks completely. Then I remembered that racing is fun, and I should celebrate with folks I care about!
  • It was hot. So hot. By the time we were at mile two, I was dripping in sweat (though I’m a generally sweaty person). I made it a point to get water and electrolytes at nearly every opportunity since I ran this race without any supplemental water.
  • There is something so wonderful about running a “hometown” race. Not only because you know the course so well (I make it a point to train along the course throughout the year), but because it’s awesome to see your home through the eyes of people loving it.
  • This was the first race I did entirely without even considering music till the last half mile. I’m proud and amazed that I no longer need it, since a few years ago I definitely would never think to run without music. It was extra great because I was able to cheer my fast friends David and Kali (who was amazing enough to shout for me as she had an amazing race and placing in her age group!), and hear my coworker Marybeth and her family cheer me on the course.
  •  I was pacing solidly under 9:30 (even an 8:35 mile at one point, though as soon as I saw that time I slowed my roll) until mile 19. I even had some crazy dreams about trying to beat or match my previous course records. That dream floated away at mile 10 when my legs began to ache.
  • My data is here, and you can see where the wheels started to come off. My legs started locking at mile 19, then completely shut down at mile 21 and crept to a walk-run. I thought I’d be upset, but I just decided to smile and enjoy the course when I had to walk. “This is a beautiful day to run,” I thought as I moved. Then, I saw a woman running who was talking to herself, and laughing as she apparently felt better about her time than I did. She inspired me and made me think of the first time I had run this course, so I worked to try and draft off of her as much as I could. I made it to mile 23 when some boys with icy hot appeared magically. Thank God for them.
  • I finished the race at 4:10, only about 5 minutes longer than my course PR. I saw stars after though, so didn’t take any personal photos. I walked about a mile away from the course to meet my boyfriend (I had asked him not to try and find me at the finish line since I didn’t know when I’d finish) and nearly collapsed. Thank goodness for him and official race photos.

     

  • I was surprisingly not too sore after! I foam rolled and iced a ton immediately after. I’ve only tried to run a few times after and definitely still feel pretty tight and sore, though, so I’m planning on taking it easy for a bit to recover from a ridiculous week of racing.

 

What’s Next?

Great question! Who knows?!

No, I’ve clearly given it some thought. I think trying to hit a 3:30 marathon would require more training and discipline than I’m willing to give right now. I obviously still love running, but I also don’t want to burn out on what I’d like to be a lifetime activity. I’ve been focused on marathoning so intensely for the past few years: first to get back into it, then immediately after to sub-4.

Now, I think I’m going to try and switch up my goals a bit. I’m considering trying to hit a 1:30 or 1:40 half-marathon time and try to start building more speedwork into my life.

In addition: I actually auditioned on a whim for a local production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum and got cast as Tintinabula! It’s a small, non-speaking featured role (I think I may have a dance solo? Maybe?), but I’m so excited. I haven’t done a musical since I was 17. That will take up much of my spring, so it’s a good way to force me to rest.

 

Overall, 2015 was a very successful year for running and fitness. Now, though. We rest and celebrate. Happy Holidays!

Limitless: A CIM Race Report


 

Reflection

When I first started running, I had no idea I would ever come to love it as much as I do now. In fact, part of the reason in my life was because so many people– myself included– told me I couldn’t or wouldn’t do it. I don’t like being told I can’t do something. Most times, I make a silent covenant in my head and think, Oh yeah? Watch me. 

I know I’ve written about this before, but the biggest lesson running has taught me was not to limit my own potential. Once I ran my first marathon, my mindset changed from, “I could never do that,” to “I could try and do that.” It’s not about setting unreasonable goals, it’s about making a choice to test the limits of your brain and body because you want to see what will happen.

Running is about participating in a life-long experiment to see what I’m capable of. It’s about understanding that I may fail, but that I can always stop, reassess, and try again.

When I started this blog about a year ago, I was trying to get into the habit of writing more consistently. I was also hoping to document my running goal of 2015: to run a sub-4 hour marathon.

Today, I beat that goal with nearly 10 minutes to spare. 

I’m elated, for lack of a better word. While, in retrospect, my goal was fairly conservative (I’d run a 4:04 marathon last year), I can’t help but remember the girl I was five years ago, who looked at a marathon course and thought, “I could never do that.

Then, she made a choice and did. Then she did again, and again. Through blistered feet and aching legs, that girl ran. When it poured rain or she fell and cut up her knees, she put her head down, dusted off her hands, and kept running. When every voice in her brain said, “You can’t do this,” she remembered every step she had taken before, pounded her feet and roared back, “Watch. Me.”

So, when I crossed the finish line today, I was running for that girl. Me. Because I have to be honest: I’m pretty damn proud of her.


Race Report

Alright! Running! Yay! Final time: 3:50:28.

So, I’ll be honest, some of the reason I didn’t write much in the past few weeks (besides travel) was because I’ve been freaking out about this race. There felt like a million things that could go wrong, and I was worried that by setting this goal, I was setting myself up for disaster.

By the time I landed in Sacramento and got to hang with my family, though, I felt good. I’ve tried to be better about nutrition, so I’d been slowly increasing my carb intake (mostly with rice and, oddly, ramen since I was battling a bit of a cold) over the past few days. I had a small vermicelli bowl and tried to grab as much sleep as I could.

On race day, I woke up early to catch the shuttles to the race. CIM is great because you not only can get shuttled, but you can stay on those shuttles until the race starts. Warmth win!

Speaking of which: despite my fretting, the weather actually didn’t feel that cold. Certainly a few shivers here and there, but it was near 50 degrees when we started amidst some light showers, so I couldn’t complain.

The first few miles were wet and fast. It was mostly rolling hills that were clearly heading down. Still, the course was crowded at this point. CIM is a fast course, which means that while people are on pace, there was still a bit of weaving. I was trying to stay with the 3:55 pace group, but would lose track and get caught a little bit behind.

I realize now, this was probably a key struggle in my racing last year. Since I ran without a watch, I had no way to make sure I was starting my races off at a steady pace when I’m so focused on trying to get through. This led to lots of catching up later on previously. Glad I made the commitment to time this year!

Miles 3-6 were all pretty fast, and by the time I was at mile six, I realized I had long left the pacer and run an 8:30 mile, nearly 30 seconds faster than planned. Eep!

Part of me wanted to try and slow down. I’m a conservative racer and normally stay at a slower pace until the second half of the race. Most of my training splits, though, had been in the 8:30-8:45 range, instead of the 8:55 range it needed to be. I decided to see if I could stay in the 8:40-8:50 range as long as I felt good. I promised myself if I still felt strong at mile 15 (when the course really started becoming fast), I’d let it go.

Fortunately, miles 6-9 made me slow down since there were some solid hills (nothing compared to Kauai, of course, but certainly enough to make me be mindful of my running). Fortunately, I also took the time to prep this year by studying the course and had prepped for this.

All of that melted, though, at mile 10. I have to say: Sacramento’s spectators did not disappoint throughout the ENTIRE course. It was nearly as populated as LA, full of funny signs and adorable families and folks of all ages cheering us on. Mile ten was particularly dense, and as your round a small uphill, you can’t help but smile at all the amazing signs and shows of support.

I rode that energy for a few miles and ended up pacing at 8:35 all the way until the half-marathon point, including through the toughest hills on the course. This was… a calculated risk that I certainly felt later on. While I’ve been running 8:35 as my half marathon pace, I hadn’t considered it my marathon pace. Still, I decided this was the year to push myself and leave it all on the course.

At mile 14, I could feel myself start to slow, and was so tempted to listen to music at this point. I had run the entire race without music, but had my headphones in case I wanted to call someone or really was struggling.I made myself calm down and keep pushing, not wanting to call in reinforcements just yet. I ended up dropping my pace back down to 8:50 by the time I hit mile 16.

I’m a pretty nervous consumer of energy gels (I worry about stomach issues) and usually train without them at this point since I’ve had enough experience with Gu’s to know they work for me. I had taken in fuel at miles 5 and 10.5 I wasn’t planning on taking another gel until Mile 16 or 18. I decided I had more than enough gels to last, and took a caffeine Honey Stinger at mile 14.5. It worked, and by mile 16 I felt back on track.

At mile 16, I had a hard conversation with my body. “Body,” I said, “this year, if we’re leaving it all on the course, it means the next 10 miles are going to hurt a bit.” My legs flexed in momentary protest, but then buckled down and ground it out.

Miles 16 and 17 were fast for me (8:35 pace, and in the middle of Mile 18 I could feel my legs start to lock. I momentarily began to panic, but made myself calm down. “Don’t get in your head,” I thought. “You’re trained for this. Stay in this pace right now.” I took another energy gel and begged my legs to stay with me.

By mile 19, I was starting to feel it, and dropped back down to an 8:50 pace — not in my heart or chest, but in my leg muscles. I was nervous I was cramping, but kept telling myself to breathe and relax. “It’s  yours if you want it.” I kept thinking.

At mile 22, I started listening to music intermittently. I was really worried my pace was going to slow, and I wouldn’t make my goal time. Still, Sacramento’s crowds were so awesome, and the scenery so beautiful at this point, I had to stop listening and just stand in awe. I realized that I loved doing this– running– so much. I wanted to make sure I enjoyed it.

I ran mile 24 a near 20 second slower (9:10) for reasons I still don’t understand. Honestly. Was it music? Was I just not focused? I am still bewildered.

When my watch showed me my pace for mile 24, I freaked a little. I decided that, in these last two miles, now was my time. I knew that, unless I walked, I beat my goal, but wanted to see what I can do. Mentally, the last few miles are so hard for me because it feels like I’m so close but take so much longer than I want them too. My legs were starting to ache at this point, but my heart and lungs felt strong and I knew I needed to just keep grinding.

By Mile 26, I pushed as hard as my stiff legs would let me, and by the time I made the final two turns I was flying as fast as I could. The ending split was confusing (why have two different endings for men and women?), but I ran to the end and couldn’t believe what I’d done.


So, What’s Next?

So, I am actually running another marathon…. next Sunday.

Crazy, I know. I saw the races on my calendar and felt bad canceling Honolulu. So, I wondered if trying to do back-to-back marathons was nuts.

It’s not common, but actually not out of the realm of possibility. Emily Abbate’s story in Runner’s World resonated so strongly with me, that I know I want to try. I make these important caveats:

  1. While I PR’d here, I didn’t finish feeling so thrashed I can’t move. I spent much of the rest of today walking and feeling good, just tight.
  2. I plan to roll and ice this week to recover, with one run on Wednesday just to see how I feel.
  3. I have zero time goals for Honolulu. I just want to finish. Frankly, I might walk parts of it, and I’m fine with that. If worse comes to worse, though, I’ll drop out and not finish.

The thing is, I just really want to see if I can do this and finish, even slowly. I think I can, and that alone makes it worth a shot.

Hit the Beat and Go: Pre-CIM and #SpotifyRunning Gear Review

Check out my review of Spotify Running below!

So, we’re a few weeks out from the California International Marathon.

CIM_688x203I’ve been generally quiet about it, but this is my big chance to sub-4 a marathon. I specifically chose CIM for a few reasons:

  1. The course is known for being fast, however, it’s not flat like some marathons. Flats can get really boring for me, and I tend to get in my head and slow down. This marathon features some nice rolling hills as it nets a nice downhill.Screen Shot 2015-11-12 at 11.59.51 AM
  2. The race is in Sacramento, where my older brother lives, so I’ll be able to hang with him and my family.
  3. It’s a generally cool race, with average temperatures in the 30s. Sound strange, but I love a cold race. I tend to do better in cool weather.

I’m nervous, but trying not to get into my head about it. Still, my mind has been firmly focused on running over the past few days, which is great because the awesome folks at Spotify Running decided to give me a chance to try and review their product!


Edit: I just found these photos. Besides the awesome things they sent, Spotify made sure it was well protected and included enough bubble wrap to either eat me or make a beautiful fashion statement.

The Goods

First off, seriously, thanks Spotify. In addition to the subscription so I could try Spotify Running, I also got some delicious trail mix from Harry & David. That Mesa Verde one is delicious, and I’ve been noshing on it pretty non-stop for the past week.

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They also sent me a Nike gift card, and these awesome Bose headphones. I ran with them today and was definitely impressed. They stayed in during today’s windy jog.

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The Product

So, I don’t always run with music. In fact, I’ve been training without it for a bit. However, I’ve found playing with sound useful on some shorter runs to make sure I either keep my pace up when I’m tired or just to help me enjoy a run when I don’t feel like doing it. Lots of studies show music, when used properly, can help with efficiency, so I see it as a nice tool to use.

When I opened Spotify Running app, I was impressed with its nice interface.

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(yes, I was listening to “Hamilton” while I was running earlier. If Spotify offered an “awesome show tunes” channel, I’d run to it)

After choosing a playlist (I chose “Latin Beats”) it prompted me to run so it could measure my speed. IMG_7487 I did, and it quickly put me around 185 BPM.

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Not the strongest song choice, Spotify, but thanks.

Initially, this is where I had trouble the first time I tried Spotify running months ago. No matter what speed I would run, it would put me at 180 BPM. Don’t get me wrong, 180 BPM is the goal for many, but it made me unsure if I could trust the app’s measurement of my initial speed.

Fortunately, those issues are gone. I tested the app at many different speeds and found that it was able to both detect when I was at a slow jog (around 140 BPM) and when I was sprinting (190 BPM). Any slower than that (say, a nice walk), and you’re out of luck– the app only stays between 140 and 190 BPM even when manually set, but then you’re probably not using the app at either of those speeds anyway.

A few other things to note:

  • The app will initially measure your speed, but it won’t adapt if you speed up or slow down. Slate did a great in-depth piece on this, and I agree: when you know how the works, it’s easy to be thoughtful and use Spotify running to its strengths. Tempo runs or sprints? This thing was great. It’s ALSO great for recovery. I used it today post my final long run to make sure I stayed at a slow jog throughout. However, if you’re just looking for something to read you while you go out on the road, this won’t continuously match you. If you’re not looking for something to keep you steady and more looking to run based on feeling, you may want your own playlist instead.
  • They have some pretty good song choices though it’s not perfect. I wish there was some kind of thumbs up/down function. I tried the Latin Beats playlist, which had some solid reggaeton and merengue, as well as the “Power Run” list, which actually exposed me to some trap and dubstep I don’t normally listen to. Then, I put it on the “Run This Town” list, which claimed the “freshest RnB and hip hop jams,” but mostly featured songs with dudes very graphically talking about what they do to women (and not always with love and affection). Not the greatest or most empowering music. Don’t get me wrong: there’s plenty of hip-hop and rap I love that, unfortunately, has really disempowering language, but this was 6 or 7 songs in a row worth. It got to be a little frustrating.
  • The app promotes “gapless playback,” so your music fades in and out. I don’t have strong feelings either way on this– sometimes I like it, sometimes I wish I could get to the end of the song. Still, it’s important to remember that, when you skip a song, it will take a second for the app to fade into it.
  • The app is useful for more than running. I went to the gym to do some weight lifting the other day and decided to try the app as a way to just keep my heart-rate up. I skipped the measurement and put the BPM to 190. Gym playlist was set, and the gapless jams were great to keep me hyped up in between sets.

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    Nice.

  • It will suck up your battery, which, if you’re an Apple user, is just a fact of life. This is why it would be hard to use this on a long-run, but I don’t know an alternative since, as mentioned, much of that is Apple’s battery life issue.

Overall, I was really impressed with Spotify running! I’m excited to keep checking it out as I move closer to CIM. If you’re looking for a way to shake up your workout or even find new songs to add to your own running playlists, I definitely recommend you take a look. 


Note: As mentioned above, Spotify running and 360i sent me material and products as compensation for my review. They did not, however, encourage me to review either way.