Christmas Magic: Sugar, Butter and Fossilized Steak Juice

Entering a virtual cookie-making contest called Tasty Tidings inspired this trek down memory lane, and I'm sharing here as submitted. I wish you all could taste these gems! Happy holidays! 

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Choosing what kind of cookies to make for this competition was simple. I knew right away that my entry would be an homage to the late Jean Carter Cannon. Jean had a razor-sharp wit and loved to laugh, she slayed on the golf course and at the Bridge table, she was tall and gorgeous, resilient AF, frequently and for no apparent reason broke out in song (show tunes, Bible hymns, nursery rhymes, what have you), and delighted her grandchildren (the youngest one being me) by screech-hollering “Judas Priest!!” whenever she was startled, appalled, excited, or generally awash with the absurdity of life (kind of the modern day “what in the actual f*#%”). Grandma excelled at many things. What she was not good at? Cooking.  She hated it, but as a 1940’s housewife, she dutifully tied on her apron (her Vassar class of ’34 apron, just to make that point clear) and followed her recipes, mastering a handful that she considered a good enough offering, thereby fulfilling her culinary responsibilities while affording her as little time in the kitchen as possible, and more time with a glass of bourbon and a crossword puzzle.  

Jean Carter Cannon back in the day

For this competition, I found one of her old recipe tins for reference, filled with tattered index cards, each one carefully typed or written in nearly illegible cursive. I thumbed through each card – some stained with butter and others with what I imagine/hope to be steak juice. There were two resounding themes; “Cream of _______ Soup” (fill in the blank with literally anything), and some variation of meringue. Side note: should the Tasty Tidings theme be soup next year, I am going to bring it hard. She loved meringue – cakes, cookies, lemon, coffee, chocolate… her recipes were a menagerie of meringue. It was clear, then, that I’d make her meringue cookies – the ones she often made for church bake sales –  and which I remembered as light, crunchy, melt-in-your-mouth delicious. 

Yet in the Tasty Tidings spirit, I also wanted to try my hand at Grandma Jean’s Oatmeal Lace cookies. I remember less clearly how these cookies tasted, likely because she made them every Christmas just for my Uncle John. A big, round tin, loaded with thin, delicate and sweet goodness was under the tree every year for him, and he would cradle the tin lovingly and slap any hand away that reached for a singular crumb. The recipe originally came from Grandma’s older sister, my great Aunt Dot, and its first iteration contained copious amounts of lard. Beyond the lard, though, the recipe seems to have been lost - no typed index card nor scrawled cursive. Alas, it is the family recipe that got away, the one we will wonder about, attempt to recreate, and ultimately turn defeatedly to Google search for. But, wait, dear Judge, don’t despair – my tasters agreed Google came through, and my memories of Grandma’s holiday tin loaded with lard-laced oats is with me even more this Christmas season (could it be the decades-old steak juice lingering on index cards is working some extra holiday magic?). 

Now that you have the backstory (don’t you wish you could click “jump to recipe”?), here’s the low down on the Jean Carter Cannon cookie recreation:

Meringue Cookies

Recipe Description/Noteworthy mentions: This recipe is what the creator of “Keep It Simple, Stupid” had in mind whilst coining that term. Consisting simply of three ingredients: egg whites, sugar and vanilla. Simple as pie, right? Not so fast. Read on. 

Challenges: This recipe requires beating egg whites until they form “stiff peaks.” It is my belief that stiff peaks is a very subjective term. How does one know exactly when stiff peaks have formed? Upon taking my first batch out of the oven, I realized for certain that I was not born with the “stiff peaks awareness” Jean (oh, I mean, gene). My meringue cookies were flat and sad. Attempt number two was met with a bitter determination to overcome my missing gene disability and turn those egg whites into stiff peaks that would put Julia Childs to shame. I watched carefully as the clear, mucous-y liquid became lighter, fluffier, whiter. I asked myself – now? Is it time? Are those stiff peaks? Patience, I answered, not yet. And, then…perhaps it was the fossilized steak juice talking…but suddenly I knew. The way one knows. Stiff peaks had been formed. Powdered sugar was folded in, a teaspoon of vanilla was added, and little light bits of white air were gently placed on a cookie sheet. 1.5 hours later, the lightest mounds of meringue emerged from the oven- Judas Priest!! Success! 

Reviews: “Like eating a cloud.” “It melts in your mouth- you don’t even have to chew these cookies.” “Heavenly.” “Ethereal.” “Like a unicorn softly whispered to me the moment my lips met this exquisite cookie.” “Like cotton candy in cookie form.” It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t include less-rave reviews, plus I want to brag about my 16 year old for a moment. This is exactly what he said: “I don’t know, there’s something about it. I like a cookie with a chewy center. I prefer a more nuanced texture.” Seriously. Verbatim. I hope he incorporates that quote into his college applications in a couple years, because hello Harvard! 

Oatmeal Lace Cookies

Recipe Description/Noteworthy mentions: You are now aware of the tragic lost recipe story. I also wanted to make these gluten free, so I chose a recipe with as little flour as possible (3 tablespoons) for which I subbed in GF flour. That way, I could fully take part in the tasting and fill myself with sugary goodness. And, at the risk of causing my Great Aunt Dot to cringe in her grave, I replaced lard with butter. Hey, had she passed down the “stiff peaks” gene, perhaps I would be more compliant with my ancestors’ baking creations. 

Challenges: Okay, this one is embarrassing. Keeping with the “simple” theme, this recipe had only 6 ingredients: brown sugar, oats, GF flour, an egg, vanilla and butter. Yet in my haste, I read “1 cup of butter” and blissfully added 1 stick of butter. Which, as you know, dear Judge, is half the amount of butter called for. So the first batch came out of the oven as little mounds of oats (oat turds, one might say. It’s me, I said it), not the flat, “lacey” cookie I was expecting. I realized my grave error and melted the last bit of butter I had (about half a stick) into the remaining dough, crossing my fingers and calling upon my lard-loving ancestors for good luck as I placed the last cookie sheet in the oven. 7 minutes later…Judas Priest again! Could it be? I pulled out a sheet of crispy-edged, wafer-thin beauties, that smelled like burned caramel and hope. 

Reviews: “Yum, caramel!! Or is it toffee…?” “Delicious, crunchy and light but so tasty.” “A light taste of molasses that melts in your mouth.” “These are MINE!” *slaps hand away* (that’s my imagined review from my Uncle John). And, from my 16 year old, “I like this one better. Really good. Tastes less like chalk.” Dammit, dreams of Harvard were as fleeting as a mouthful of meringue. 

Essential Oils and Family Health (or What Can Help After Your Child Licks a Doorknob)

A new school year is brimming with potential - new friends, new books and new concepts, challenges, opportunities, and it's also brimming with germs. Lots of them. When my oldest started Kindergarten, a string of illnesses over several months went through our family of five like a fierce hurricane. That whole school year was a blur of sleepless nights checking on feverish boys, holding buckets as the stomach bug crushed them, and watching the nurse at our pediatrician's office line up our three boys as she swabbed their throats for strep, and one by one they came back positive. I tried everything to get us on a healthy track - we ate fresh, local foods, tried to get plenty of sleep and I spent their college savings at the health food store, stocking up on elderberry syrup, raw honey, probiotics...you name it, we tried it. Eventually, I wound up in tears at our pediatrician's office, holding my youngest who had just been diagnosed with an ear infection.

This is my niece. But her face accurately depicts my sentiments in the above paragraph.  

Our pediatrician calmly assured me that the boys were bouncing back from these illnesses just fine, and the fact that we were getting so many was likely due to my oldest starting school, and bringing a host of new germs back home that we had not been exposed to before. It was at this point that I seriously considered homeschooling. But he was confident that this would be the worst of it, that each subsequent year would be better. And, he was right, it did get better. Additionally, over the years I have added several tools to our family health tool box that help keep us as healthy as we can be as we start each school year.

One of those tools, and the family favorite, is essential oils. I knew about essential oils for a long time before we actually began using them. I thought it was just "aromatherapy" and I didn't think simply smelling something nice could have that many health benefits. Introducing doTerra essential oils*. Because they are clean, carefully extracted and tested, they are safe to use on the skin, through a diffuser that vaporizes them into the air, and with most of the oils, they are safe to ingest (some plant essential oils aren't safe to ingest no matter how clean they are).

Here are our top back-to-school essential oils:

OnGuard: this is a doTerra blend, and in my opinion is a must-have in every home. This oil blend smells amazing (clove, cinnamon and orange are the predominant smells), and it's immune-boosting and cleansing benefits are incredibly effective. I have a spray bottle filled with a mix of OnGuard and water, that I keep on hand for kitchens, bathrooms, and doorknobs**. A few quick sprays is all it takes. And it is much less expensive than the Seventh Generation cleaner I used to buy!

We also use OnGuard as a hand sanitizer (a drop or two on the hands), and when I feel an illness coming on, I put a drop on my tongue, chase it with some water, and I'm good to go! I'm certain I have kept some colds at bay with this technique.

Breathe: This is another doTerra blend that helps promote respiratory health and clear airways. When diffused, it helps a stuffy nose like no one's business, and it is also beneficial when rubbed on the bottom of your feet. My 8 year old has struggled with asthma, and I love having this blend to help him through a cold, when I'll rub it on his feet and chest, and diffuse it as well. When mixed with OnGuard in the diffuser, it makes for a great cold-therapy.

On Guard and Breathe, professionally lamely photographed by me. I don't even know what that plant is behind them.

The "You're at a 10, I'm going to need you at a 3" oils. When we transition from summer schedules to fall schedules, we, like many other families I'm sure, struggle with getting back into a routine in which we are going to bed at a decent time and getting enough sleep to take us through a busy day. Essential oils have been instrumental in helping wind us all down in the evening, bringing that high energy from the day down several notches to promote good, solid sleep. All I have to do is simply think of some of our favorite evening oils and I feel a comforting feeling envelop me...ahhh. Here they are:

Cedarwood: this woody, earthy scent is my 13 year old's favorite. We do five drops of it in his diffuser every night, and add a few drops of Wild Orange to help settle his racing mind, and a couple drops of Frankincense for good measure, because Frankincense is pretty much good for everything. This blend helps him shut his brain down, and drift into a solid sleep.

My 8 and 10 year old's prefer that I rub oil on their feet at night rather than diffuse them. My 8 year old loves Serenity, a soothing sleep blend. My 10 year old likes Breathe on his feet at night, as he is usually drawn to more minty-smelling oils. On the evenings that he doesn't take a bath or shower, Breathe does a nice job of covering up that stinky sock smell that seems to take over our house during soccer season. (PS - it's always soccer season at our house).

Serenity is my go-to relaxing oil in the evening, both in a diffuser and rubbed on my feet. A long list of things to do tomorrow? That's cool, I have Serenity. Laundry all over my bedroom floor? Ahhh...Serenity. Getting up at 5:00 am the next morning for a hard hill-running workout? All good - Serenity now!

Frankincense, Cedarwood and Wild Orange. On the day of posting this blog, I have officially used my last drop of Serenity and have not yet ordered more. Noooooooooo!!!!!!!

Lastly, we have our "You're at a 3, I'm going to need you at a 10" oils. These are the oils that give us a little pep when we need it, a little spring in our step when we're dragging. My 13 year-old brings In Tune to school with him. We have it in a roller, so it is easy to use and ready to whip out and roll on his neck, behind his ears or on his wrists when he needs to focus. He struggles to "engage" in the classroom, and In Tune has been a huge help with that.

My husband is a fan of a drop or two of Peppermint in a glass of water to fight that afternoon slump. He claims it's like a cup of coffee without the jitters. And, you guys, this man loves his coffee, so that's a huge compliment to Peppermint. I personally like to rub peppermint on the back of my neck for the same effect. One drop of Peppermint oil is the equivalent to 20 cups of peppermint tea (!), so it can give your lips a real tingle!

All of us love any of the citrus oils - lemon, lime, tangerine, etc. (and sometimes all 3 mixed together!)- in a glass of water or rubbed onto our hands for a little jolt of energy. Drinking water with one of these oils in it also has many health benefits (cleansing, detoxifying) along with the simple fact that it makes us drink more water - always a good thing!

Lime, Lemon and Tangerine. We can't keep up with the Peppermint use in our house and are in need of more. 

While these are just some of the oils we've been using in our house to promote good family health, it gives you an idea of the many benefits of essential oils, and doTerra oils in particular. If you want to talk more, please reach out to me - l'd like to hear about what particular struggles you might be having and see what oils could help with them. The wisdom of using essential oils for health is age-old - they have been used by generations of people from all over the world. Now is the best time to give them a try - give your family a boost before the winter germs set it...

*Note: I am a Wellness Advocate for doTerra, so yes, I do promote and sell their products, based on our experience with them and my love for this incredible company.
**Another note: In regards to this blog title - at least one of my kids has totally been caught licking doorknobs in public places. You guys - it's a for-real thing.

2016 Knowledge Droppings

I wrote this draft of a blog post almost two years ago! I logged on today because I have something I want to write but now I feel like first I need to publish this draft from 12/17/2016. I love that I called it "Knowledge Droppings." Ha, I crack myself up. So, here's almost 2 years younger me, dropping some knowledge about running...
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It has been a while, I know. Here's the thing: last year a friend and I were chatting about my blog and it went something like this...
Him: "I love your writing style..."
Me: "Thanks, though I feel there's a but..."
Him: "Yeah, it's just that you write about being injured a lot. It's pretty much about you being injured."
Me: "Oh. Hmm. But did you read the ones about me not being injured?"

Then I thought about it. And I realized I never wrote a blog post celebrating my mile race that I had trained so hard for. Why didn't I write about it? Truthfully I was proud and disappointed at the same time. I worked hard, and I was proud that I worked hard. But I thought I'd see a different time on the clock. I just couldn't shake the feeling that I could do better. I wanted to do better.

And then I went through a series of injuries, and well, I didn't want to write about that. In the time between my last blog post, I turned 40. I decided that turning 40 meant, for what it's worth, that I earned the right to tell people to "suck it" when applicable. Here are some other bits of wisdom I've realized upon turning 40:

1) Women are as strong as hell.
2) It's really not all over when you turn 40, there are personal records within reach...
3) A lot of what I loved in my 20's, I'm loving all over again with renewed enthusiasm in my 40's. Like hiking mountains. And margaritas.
4) Running is a privilege and is not something I have to do. It's something I want to do.
5) Celebrate every little victory. Don't let the "yeah, but..." take over. Own it. Own the crap out of it.

So, I'm retroactively owning my 2015 mile time of 5:55 as a victory. If my past self gives me a "yeah, but..." then I'm going to tell her to suck it.

Tiny is Just Part of the Journey

"Tiny" is a term I started using years ago when I watched how my boys acted when they were feeling nervous, overwhelmed or scared. When they are tiny, their normally loud voices are so soft I can barely hear them talking, their boisterous personalities shift, and they almost visibly shrink in size. They hide behind my husband or me. They cling to us. They become "tiny" in every sense. Being tiny happens for different reasons- for one of my boys, it is on the first day of school/camp/really any social situation. For another boy, it is when he has to have a difficult conversation, like saying he's sorry or sorting out a conflict with a friend. For the other boy, it is when he has to go somewhere on his own, without mom or dad or brothers. Every time I see this in my boys, my heart melts a little and I soften, because I know what being tiny feels like (don't we all?).

Being tiny is hard, especially when you can't hide behind your mom and dad or cling to someone. But being tiny also means you're doing something hard, something that challenges you to step outside of the familiar, to step into the unknown. I have felt tiny many times over the past seven weeks while I trained for the mile race (yes, the one that is less than a week away. Gulp). I have felt tiny literally every time I look at the crossfit Workout of the Day (WOD) on the board at the Confluence. Like when the workout involved power cleans, and I wanted to turn around and go back to bed. Or when I thought there was no way I'd be able to flip upside down and attempt a hand stand push-up, in front of everyone at the gym none the less. I especially felt tiny when I went to a mini-track meet in Burlington a couple weeks ago. Sprint 100 meters in a race, in front of a group of spectators? I haven't felt that tiny in a long time.

Yet despite feeling tiny, I stuck to my training plan. I met friends at the track and pushed through hard workouts. I didn't turn around and head back out the door when I was overwhelmed at The Confluence. I stayed at that track meet and not only sprinted my heart out for the 100 meters, I also did an 800 meter and 400 meter race. I can't say it was pretty (especially the 100 meter race), but I did it.

This is how I wanted to look racing the 100 meters:

This is how I actually looked:

I have to admit, I'm feeling nervous about the race coming up this Friday. Maybe even a little tiny. What if I don't run as fast as I hope, what if I don't see the time I hope for on the clock at the end? Then I am reminded of the words Tyler, one of the instructors at the Confluence, wrote on his Facebook page a couple months ago:


"Life is a journey. Not a destination. A goal is merely a point on the roadmap of life. Roadblocks that send you backwards or sideways or upside-downways are reminders that progress is not a linear march or a process that is inflicted on you in the name of improvement. Progress is a dance. One in which you participate, learn, and enjoy yourself. Sometimes you find that your original goal isn't that important when you finally arrive. Aspire to do great things, and enjoy the detours - they are the journey."

And what a journey this past several weeks has been. I have not only experienced the joy (and pain) of running full speed around a track, I have also been reminded of how awesome crossfit is - the way it can feel purposeful and like play at the same time, and the way it takes me from feeling tiny to feeling totally freaking badass-strong all within a single hour. I am going to step up to the line on Friday for the mile race and give it everything I have. After all, I have worked really hard to get there. But whatever happens, I have been dancing along this training and have enjoyed the detours, I showed up despite feeling tiny, I learned more about myself, and I experienced progress in the non-linear sense. Bring on the mile race, I'm ready. 

Training Highlights: Dick Van Dyke and Shit-Pan Suppers

I'm kind of whooped. Good whooped. Like I've been working my butt off kind of whooped. So, without too much pondering about the meaning of it all, here are some highlights of my last week of training:

• Did the following track workout: 2 x 200 m, 2 x 400 m, 2 x 800 m, 2 x 400 m, 2 x 200 m, 4 x 100 m, with half of each distance of recovery jogging between, and I actually said, "Wow, that was good!" afterwards. Yep, insane.
• Driving home from a 5:15 am WOD at The Confluence, my friend and I swore we saw Dick Van Dyke drive past us. Seriously, it was him.  

• Ran one of my most favorite Montpelier loops - 7.3 miles - which includes an almost 2 mile climb up North Street in the beginning, but the views at the top are always worth it. Ran with some of my favorite women, the "Hillbillies". Best part? We started and finished at Birchgrove Baking, and snagged an amazing coffee at the end. Totally perfect reward.

• One of the WODs I did last week included rope climbs. I love rope climbs, I think I need to somehow incorporate them into my daily life. Forget taking the stairs, I'm gonna take the rope. 
• Again, driving home with my friend from the Confluence, when clearly we hadn't had coffee yet, I told her about my new favorite cookbook, and our conversation went like this:

          Me: "It's by Molly Gilbert, It's called "Sheet Pan Suppers."
          SG: (confused look) "Did you say She-Pan? That's a weird name."
          Me: (thinking she said Shit-Pan) "Ha, ha, not Shit-Pan! But that's awesome. Hey kids, we're    
          having a Shit-Pan dinner again tonight!"
          SG: "No, I thought you said She-Pan, kind of sounded sexist. Shit-Pan is actually better."
          Me: "Totally. Anyway, I'm getting you the cookbook. It rocks"

• During a strength session of a WOD last week, I back squated 130 lbs. I didn't realize until after that I was pretty impressed with myself, I basically squatted with a whole entire me on my back! 
• Ran my second "tester mile" to see where I'm at. I did this at the start of my training 4 weeks ago. I ran a 6:32 then, and this time ran a 6:16. It's nice to feel like I'm making progress, but more importantly, I'm having so much fun training. I'm still keeping my eye on a goal of a mile personal record (PR), (well, "post-babies PR" for now, which is sub 5:55), but for me the joy of running is back. My knee pain has settled down, and running fast laps on the track has brought back that feeling of child-like exhilaration that I love about speed work. Just running for the joy of it, fueled by Shit-Pan Suppers. 

Crossfit and the Importance of PLAY!

Yesterday morning I woke up to my alarm at 4:50 am. I'm starting to get into the rhythm of the 5:15 am crossfit WOD on Tuesdays & Thursdays, but I don't know if it will ever be "easy" to get out of bed before 5 am. It certainly helped that a friend was picking me up for the WOD, so I knew I had to get moving for her. Mind you, getting up at 4:50 am gives me exactly 12 minutes to get from my bed to her car, so I rolled out of bed, grabbed my workout clothes, and threw on a hat. Side note, I've been getting crazy bed-head lately, which is why I wear a hat to all my workouts and runs. We're talking world-record-breaking bed-head.

Anyway, so my friend and I drove up to the Confluence just as the sun was coming up over the mountains. Pink sky, gorgeous morning. We met the crew of 6 fellow early birds and our instructor, Tyler, and began to warm up inside. Our warm-up was a 12 minute fun mixture of mobility and agility movements (which I dubbed the "mobag" warm-up. But don't worry, I dubbed it that silently, to myself, because I do realize it probably wasn't funny to anyone else. Not at 5:15 am anyway). After the mobag, we headed outside to the Fit Park:

First up outside was a 10 minute game of Hoover Ball. Ah, what now? Hoover Ball is kind of like volleyball, only with a 6 pound medicine ball. I was feeling a little suspect about it all, kind of wanted to go right ahead and skip it. You know, maybe do some more mobagging or something. But we got set up at the volleyball net, 3 against 3, and started tossing the ball over the net. Suddenly, the theme song to Top Gun began blasting (again, only in my head), and I put myself right in that Tom Cruise shirtless volleyball scene (though I wisely kept my shirt on), and we played a serious game of Hoover Ball. So fun, and turned out to be great core work as I can tell today with my sore abs.

Hoover Ball!

Not Hoover Ball.

I'm Tom Cruise and I give the thumbs-up to Hoover Ball. (Silently, in Richarda's head).

While playing Hoover Ball outside as the day was just starting, it struck me how important play is, even for adults. On Thursdays, I work a 10 hour day, and being up at the Confluence in the morning of a long work day felt like my recess. My time to get my body moving, get a workout in, but most importantly, my time to play. I know I went into the game a bit begrudgingly, but a mere 2 minutes into it the power of play was not lost on me. The ball was slippery and it was a challenge to catch, but we were all diving, tossing and catching as if we were on an elementary school playground. There was a lot of laughing going on. It was a total bonus that we were getting a good workout in at the same time, and also a bonus that this was playing in my head. If you clicked on the link, #yourewelcome #imsorry. 

And, then, there was the Workout of the Day (WOD). It was a 15 minute as many rounds as possible (AMRAP), of 8 Atlas stone lifts, 8 barrier hops, and 8 toes to bar. The Atlas stone lifts involved lifting these stone balls to your shoulder (sounds easier than it is!):

The barrier hops involved hoisting yourself up and over these barriers. I dubbed this the "heimlich," not silently to myself. I'll be all set if I want to snack on grapes and hot dogs near one of these:

And, the toes to bars were exactly that, swing your toes up to the bar using one of these bars on the pull up shrine:

Like Hoover Ball, this workout was challenging but was pure play for me. Given my soreness today, I know I worked my muscles hard, but I smiled my way through it. Thank you, Confluence, for reminding me how much fun exercise can be. 

And, yeah, we all got pretty dirty out there. You know how all the advertisements for "adventure races" or "muddy races" show pictures of mud-smeared, laughing people, having so much fun? That's because it is fun to play and get muddy, even when you're pushing 40! My friend and I tried to capture the dirt in this picture, but it doesn't really show the full effect (nor does it remotely resemble the stylishly dirty people in the aforementioned ads):

Thanks, Confluence, for reminding me to PLAY! Time to get outside in the dirt again...

Week in Review: My Boys Say it Best

Sometimes my boys say it best. I dug through some old (and some recent) pictures of my boys to best summarize my workouts this past week:

Sunday: 8.5 mile run, including some good hills. Ran with 2 crossfit friends:

Warm day, great company, beautiful scenery. Joy.

Monday: Track workout: 1 mile warm-up, 8 x 400 meter repeats with 200 meter recovery between, 1 mile cool down.

While I do usually love track workouts, this morning I was the kid on the right. It just wasn't my morning. 

Tuesday: WOD (workout of the day) at The Confluence. Lots of mobility work, followed by power cleans and the WOD which I modified a bit to avoid burpees, so it was 7 rounds of ski erg 3-4 calories, 7 power cleans. So. Much. Fun.

I still am going light with the weights, but power cleaning 80 lbs felt so awesome. I felt like a strong ninja-running mama. Watch out!

Wednesday: 1.5 mile warm-up, 2 miles at 5k race pace with 2 min recovery between miles, 1.5 mile cool-down.

It was only Wednesday- but it had been a busy week already. Whooped!

Thursday: WOD at The Confluence: lots of mobility work, strength work was deadlifts. I was nervous about the deadlifts, having not really worked on them since I hurt my back. So, I decided to go light again, but felt great lifting 105 lbs. In the crossfit world, this is not much, but in my world it was awesome.

Errr, deadlifts? How do you do deadlifts again?

The workout was 4 rounds of 2 minutes, row 16 calories, and complete as many double unders (jumping rope with the rope going under you twice in one jump) as you can in the remaining time. I wasn't sure I'd be able to complete any double unders at all, but ended up with 47!

47 double unders- super psyched!!

Friday: Met up with friends and kids on the State House lawn for a fun workout including lunges, weighted squats, stair jumps, push-ups, dips, and lots of cardio in there. I have been leading these workouts since the fall with friends. They are casual, and we bring our kids (I have Griffin with me on Fridays), and they are always a great time to catch up, kids get to play, and the moms get a workout in. Win-win. Recently a friend dubbed these "Ri-Cardio" workouts. I love it!

Friday Mom's & Kid's workout: best time of the week!!

Saturday: Early morning 8 mile run in beautiful Calais. The weather was cool, the grass and trees had that early spring vibrant green, made only more brilliant with a blue sky backdrop. Despite all the hard work I put in this week, my knee felt good. The mobility work and strengthening from crossfit is paying off. Week two: success.

Being outside with good friends to share the journey. That's pretty much why I run. 

A Little Help From My Friends

Sometimes you need a little help from your friends, especially in running. I am fortunate to have some pretty darn amazing running friends. They are the reason it's not so bad getting up at 5:00 am to do a track workout or hill repeats. My running friends keep the conversations going when the terrain gets tough, they share my pre-race jitters, encourage me, motivate me, and keep running fun. It is incredible to think about the community that surrounds a sport that is solitary by nature. On race day, each individual that lines up has no doubt been carried to the line by several, if not dozens, of running friends. Friends they covered hundreds of miles with, while they shared training plans, goals, gave each other advice, and most likely talked about everything outside of running, too.

And then there are the friendships and relationships that carry me to the starting line that extend beyond running. The support, encouragement, and advice I receive from outside my running circles also keeps me going. I'm feeling especially grateful for the help from my friends at Green Mountain Crossfit at The Confluence. I'm one week into my 8 week training program for the mile, a plan they have carefully helped me create and fine-tune, and I'm already feeling the benefits of their knowledge in building strong bodies capable of performing functional movements at high intensity.

After a one-hour mobility session with Tyler at The Confluence last week, I felt enlightened about the way my body works and I gained critical awareness about what I need to do to continue to heal my knee injury and prevent further injuries from happening. At first I thought he was getting all Mr. Miyagi on me- trying to make a point in humility as he encouraged me to wedge my body in strange contortions in the name of "hip opening."

I love that by using this example, I'm Ralph Macchio. Kind of fulfilling a childhood dream.
What? I just really relate to Danielson. 

But when Tyler had me test my mobility by reaching for my toes before and after doing one such stretch- I saw the results were remarkable! When I hinged at my hips and reached my fingers down, I could actually reach several inches past where I did before the stretch. Duly noted, mobility work is key for me.

I also made another early morning WOD last week, where the camaraderie was just as great as the workout itself. I have to admit 3 days later I'm still a little sore from the pull-ups I did. I'm excited for more, and already I feel like I'm running smarter and more aware of my body. Next up is a weightlifting session with Nick. Will he Mr. Miyagi me? I'll keep you posted.

I'll leave you all with these two images of crossfit workouts. I'm in one of the pictures. I know it's hard to figure out which one, but give it a try:

Listen

Lately I've been doing a lot of listening, a lot of paying attention to the voice that doesn't use words, in this case, my body. As an athlete, listening to your body is not always easy, especially when your heart and mind would rather just flip your body the bird and keep on moving. We all know how that ends, though, and it is not a Rumi quote.

A few weeks ago, during my listening phase, I decided to head back to my local crossfit gym, Green Mountain Crossfit at The Confluence. At one point pre-injuries, I was doing crossfit 2-3 times a week there and loving it. For various life and then injury reasons, I fell out of the rhythm of going and it had been a while since I had a good WOD (workout of the day).

I was nervous as I laced up my sneakers and headed down to the workout area. There were some new faces, but most people I recognized, and the warm greeting I got was beyond welcoming. The instructor, Nick, led us through the warm-up and mobility movements as the 9 athletes circled around him. There was one man there who had done a particularly challenging WOD just a couple days before, and with each mobility movement he was exclaiming his soreness and the impossibility of certain positions.  As we reached up with a plastic PVC pipe overhead, we heard a "What the heck...jesus...that's not ok..." and so on. I appreciated his hilarious commentary because while I didn't share his soreness, I was feeling a little rusty in my mobility and I felt he was reading my mind.

After the warm-up and mobility, we got into some strength movements, and then the workout itself. I went easy and light with the weights, but there was no pressure to do otherwise. As Nick walked around, he gave me spot-on tips to correct mistakes in my form that I hadn't noticed myself. I finished the WOD sweaty, but not completely spent, and so excited about how good it felt! As we stretched out, each person I didn't know introduced themselves to me and welcomed me to the gym.

Last week when I blogged about looking for my Golden Egg, a friend wisely commented that I would "find it within." While I completely agree, I also think that a great community who supports, encourages, and coaches you can help you discover what is within. I am so lucky to have found that support at The Confluence. I have been back several times since that first WOD a few weeks ago, and for the next 8 weeks I will be working with the awesome team of instructors and fitness specialists as I train for the Montpelier Mile on July 3rd.

I look forward to keeping you posted on my progress, sharing my goals and what I have learned with this blog. And, if you're local, please join me at The Confluence or on the track!

My Golden Egg

It has been over a year since my last post. In many ways, it's been a pretty awesome year. I got a job that I love, working with great people, the boys are growing and it's fun to see their unique selves emerge as they get older. My sister had a baby, little Adeline, who is now toddling around with serious cuteness. So, yeah, life has been happening.

In the constant balance of life, though, not everything has been awesome. Since I hurt my back a year and a half ago, I have had a string of injuries. I was able to make it through many running years injury-free, and now I seem to be paying for it. I did have a few good running stretches in the past year, though. I was able to run a sub-6 minute mile last July and ran a 20:46 5k in the fall. Not the times I was hoping for, but I wasn't totally crushed. Then from Christmas to early April I was completely out of running- dealing with plantar fasciitis and GCKA (General Crappiness in the Knee Area). Coming back from the GCKA has been particularly hard, and now that I'm just starting back with running I'm realizing how much I lost and how hard I need to work to get back to where I want to be.

So, where to go from here? The big 4-0 hits at the end of the summer, and I have self-induced pressure to get some personal records before I'm too stinking old.  I'm not even near the shape I was in two years ago, and I'm kind of freaking out. Am I ever going to be able to run fast again, are my glory days over? Do you feel a Bruce Springstein song coming on or is it just me?

The point is, I need to find my golden egg. Some dear friends had an Easter party a month ago. They are famous for the amazing eggs hunts they have on their land, with literally hundreds of little plastic eggs hidden in their woods. They also hide a golden egg, and the child who finds the coveted golden egg wins a prize and in most cases, a lifetime of happiness (my 4 year old still regularly talks about how he found the golden egg 2 years ago). I know there is a golden egg that will open the door to strong running for me, that will help me reach my goals. Right now, I'm just standing in the woods, taking stock of where I'm at and keeping my eyes peeled for that golden egg.

And, as always, reminding myself that no matter what, if I feel like this when I'm running, I'm doing it all right:

Spring!! Yes!

Happy Spring! Looking outside at the fresh snow on bare branches, hearing sleet pinging on the windows, and with mountains of snow still here from last week’s storm, I can’t say it looks or feels like Spring. But just knowing that warmer temps and mud season are indeed just around the corner makes me feel a little lighter.

What else is making me feel lighter? I’m running outside again! Hooray! My back is healing well and I’m slowly getting some more miles under me. The final report after a handful of tests was in a nutshell:

·      Diagnosis: Shit happens.

·      Prognosis: Shit may happen again, or it may not.

·      Treatment: Deal with it.

You know what? I’ll take it. I’m so happy to be running again after almost a solid 4 months off that any time I step outside for a run, however hard, feels like a gift. I know the joy of it will begin to wear off over time, but right now even running a measly 2 miles in 7 degree temperatures (feels like 10 below), with wind blasting at my face and ice under my feet, I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face. This is me after said run:

 Note my Rocky style boxing gloves/mittens. They may not be stylish but they are warm, and maybe even a little badass.

Make no mistake, I have a long way to go in regaining speed and endurance. A loooonnngg way. But I’m up for the challenge. And, I’ve learned some important lessons through this process. Here are the top three lessons learned:

1.  Stretching is not optional for me. So, apparently I have abnormally tight muscles, according to pretty much every specialist I saw (doctors, massage therapists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, heck, even the radiologist running a scan on me). Whether it has to do with my often poor posture, lack of stretching over the years, or genetics, I just have tight muscles, and that’s not good. Making time for stretching and/or yoga will need to be a priority for me if I want to stay injury-free. This will be the year that I grow to like yoga, darn it. 

2. It’s all about perspective. If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be spending most of this winter either not running, or running on a treadmill in my dark, dank basement I would have thought “what a major bummer.” But by the time I could try running on the treadmill, I hadn’t run in so long that I pretty much skipped right up to the machine and gave it a giant kiss before starting it up. And I found it to be fabulous! With a little help from my friend at Running With Music, I got some great new music, popped in my head phones and actually enjoyed every minute of it. Forget “dread-mill,” more like, “Can-I-get-a-Hallelujah-mill.”

3. Keep it light. I’ll be the first to admit, last year was a bit of a stressful year for me, and I let it creep into all aspects of my life, including running. Last spring, I went from being a stay-at-home mom and fitness instructor on the side to starting a business with my husband. This was a decision that set off many other changes for our family that in the end are helping us live our dream, but caused some stress and uncertainty while in the middle of it. Looking back I can say that while running functioned as my stress release, I ended up putting pressure on myself to reach certain racing goals, and that pressure contributed to an injury and therefore took away my main form of stress release. Darn catch-22. Now that I’m running again, I’m realizing that what I love about running is running itself, and racing is just a fun thing to do to share the excitement of running with others. Period. No pressure needed. I’m not training for the Olympics, I’m pushing 40, and I’m going to need running in my life for a long time. I don’t need to get any personal records to prove that I love to run. All I need is a good pair of sneakers, running friends, and the road ahead. I'll still race, but only for the fun of it.

Wishing you all happy, wet, muddy spring running! Yee-haa!

Diary of an Injured Runner

December 21st, 2013
Dear Diary,

Why is it that when I'm injured people seem to be running by my house way more than usual? There must be some kind of running flash mob that is intended to last throughout the duration of my injury. I counted 10 runners within a half-hour time period this morning. People running together, laughing and talking, runners on their own listening to music, one group of runners who were clearly doing a speed workout, zipping by my house in a line, taunting me. Would it be totally inappropriate to put a sign on my lawn saying "Injured Runner. Please run by slowly and try to look like you're not enjoying yourself one bit"?

December 23rd, 2013
Dear Sweet Diary,

I went for a run, I went for a run!! Yes, it was on a zero-gravity treadmill, with 75% of my body weight, 3x 2 minute intervals for a grand total of 6 minutes of jogging, with my great PT there keeping me from upping the speed and distance like I wanted to. But I'll take it. It felt great. I could have been zipped into those crazy tight spandex, running on air forever. I wonder if this is how good people who are 75% of my body weight feel when they run? Hmm...since I'm not going to be losing more than 30 pounds any time soon, I guess I'll just stick to the zero gravity treadmill.


January 2nd, 2014
Dear, Dear Diary,

Well, it is really cold out today and the sidewalks are very icy, so I guess I should be glad that I can't run outside today. I mean, who wants to bundle up in fleece-lined running pants, 2 layers of long underwear, wind jacket, neck warmer, hat and gloves, all just to go for a slippery, cold run...followed by a hot shower, tired muscles, a warm latte, and an eagerness to hit the road again the next day? I do, darn it, I DO!!! Sob, sob.

January 13, 2014
Dear Diary,

I saw an orthopedic nurse practitioner today, she was great. I'm going to call her Dr. Awesome. Dr. Awesome took a look at my x-ray from November and noticed something not quite right with my last vertebrae. She felt like it was slipped forward and up a bit. She ordered some more tests in the next couple of weeks. It was so nice to feel like someone is really looking at the whole picture, truly listening to my weird-o symptoms and desperation to understand what is going on with my back. Why I can run on the treadmill and feel good, but if I run even a block outside I get searing pain in my back. I'm feeling grateful for Dr. Awesome, and hopeful for getting some answers soon.

January 17, 2014
Dear Diary,

You went running today, didn't you? I can tell by your little joie de vivre, the extra spring in your step. I bet you ran 10 miles, I bet you did the North St- Horn of the Moon Rd loop just as the sun was coming up. That's my favorite run, you jerk. How could you, diary?

January 20th, 2014
Dear Diary,

Checking in for a medical procedure is so funny to me sometimes. I always try to be cheerful and polite despite totally dreading what I'm about to do. Why don't we as patients just tell it like it is when we check in for a particular procedure?

Checking in for a mammogram, for example, "Hi! You know those compressors in garbage trucks, the things that squish the garbage back in the truck, as it crunches and groans into a tight little space? Yeah, I'm here for that procedure. For my breasts. Super, thanks!"

Checking in for a dynamic x-ray: "I'm here to be put into totally awkward positions, basically balancing on my big toe while leaning to the side with my arms way out in front of me like an accomplished yoga instructor, only the opposite. Then they'll ask me to hold that pose while I hold my breath for like a minute. Yup, checking in for that. Great!"

Checking in for an MRI: "How's it going? Yeah, I'm about to be put flat on my back in a tiny enclosed space with giant earphones on so I am not so bothered by the jackhammering and alarm sounds around me for the next half-hour. Only the headphones don't work that well so I just get to imagine I'm stuck in a closet during a fire alarm while the wall I'm leaning against is being jackhammered. Thank you very much, I will now slip right into that hospital gown!"

Though I will say I am so very grateful this technology exists, I think it is very cool and I'm so curious what the x-ray and MRI will say about my body. And, I'm even more curious about the nuclear bone scan I will have in a couple weeks. It will take 5-6 hours?! Hmmm…wonder how I should check in for that?

Guest Post on Mama Says

Please check out my guest post on the Mama Says blog, which gives my long-winded comeback to strangers who say how unfortunate I am to have three boys. Click here: Drinking it Up With Three Boys

Pirate Cracker

I'll peak out from the depths of my injury-induced blues to say a quick "hi" to you, my blog readers. I'm not going to sugar-coat it, I've been really disappointed/grumpy/downright rude and unpleasant about my back. It is not getting better, I haven't run in more than 5 weeks, and I would give anything for a magic ball to know when I'll be pain free and running again.

Of course, despite all the whining I've been doing to my husband (sorry sweetie!), I do know it will get better and I do know there are silver-linings to this pause in my training. For example, I have read 3 books in the past 5 weeks. That is more than I read all year. I've also taken up knitting again, and have finished 5 hats and am just about to bind off on my 6th. (Yes, family, you know what you'll be getting for Christmas). And I've been cooking up new and different foods, and I've even followed a few recipes (gasp!). I just made homemade coconut milk tonight. It was insanely delicious, I could have guzzled the whole jar right there. Here's the recipe, because if you think you don't like coconut milk, this could be a game-changer for you.

Despite the silver linings, I do miss running terribly. I miss stepping outside in the quiet, crisp, dark morning, and meeting up with friends as we chat the miles away. I miss the rhythm that became so familiar to my body, and the satisfying feeling of tired leg muscles. I miss my favorite running routes so much that I sometimes run them in my head as I'm trying to fall asleep- the dirt roads, rolling hills and maple trees become old friends. And I miss feeling strong, feeling like I take care of my body and we understand each other. Now my back pain feels like such a mystery, I don't know exactly how it happened and I don't know how to let it heal. I don't know when it will heal and when I'll be running again. When I asked my physical therapist about signing up for an April half-marathon, she gave me a sympathetic smile and suggested not to sign up yet. I desperately wanted to shout profanities at her, but I saved that for the car ride home, by myself.

I'm not going to paste a smile on my face and say that I'm anything other than disappointed. But, I will recognize the silver linings as they come along. I'll leave you with a recent one: My three year old is such a handful right now; this child is so exhausting and marches to the beat of his own drum like no one's business, but he does constantly remind me of all that is good. When my back was spasming on Thanksgiving day (it was all those dishes!), and I was lying on the couch, he came up to me and said, "I'm the doctor and I'll make your back better." He then "wrote me a list," gave me a new nose (he put it on my face, which was nice), then proceeded to jump on me, pressing down on my shoulder with both hands (it didn't hurt, incidentally). My mom was nearby and she nearly shot out of her chair, wondering what the heck kind of a doctor he was. She asked him such, and he answered, "I'm a pirate cracker." Obviously. I knew just what he meant, and I realized that maybe I've taken him to one too many of my chiropractor appointments.

My very own "pirate cracker," getting ready for a day's work. 

A Body in Motion, a Different Motion

A body in motion stays in motion, unless it slams into a brick wall. Which is pretty much what it felt like when I hurt my back (see my post about it). After a handful of doctor's appointments and tests, it was determined that I have a bulging disc at the bottom of my spine, causing a pinched nerve and subsequent sciatica. For the past two weeks, I have been resting and trying to determine the best route to recovery. As well as obsessing about when I can start training again.

The physical therapist and doctor I have seen agreed that I will need around 6 weeks of limited activity and physical therapy before I can really start training again, and I will need to make sure I can run pain-free before I train hard again. I'm sure you can gather that this is hugely disappointing for me.

Intellectually, I know what I need to do. I know the stretches I should work on, and I know what activities are best for me. Physically, my body seems to understand it's limitations, and if I over-do something in the slightest, I certainly feel it. Emotionally, I'd like to make like my 3 year old and throw myself to the ground and flail my arms and legs and scream at the top of my lungs. Because even though my body slammed into the metaphorical brick wall a couple weeks ago, emotionally I still feel like I'm in motion. The rhythms of my long runs from weeks ago are still singing in me, the steady beat of my feet on the ground, the scattering of my thoughts and the saliency of my presence, just being there, in the moment, on the road, blissfully in motion. The challenge for me now is stepping away from that sense of peace I get from running, and finding a new rhythm, a new routine for the next month and a half or (gasp) more.

But, how do I find that sense of peace? What is it that will fulfill me the way running does? Here is a summary of the activities I can do, and my admittedly weak attempts at embracing them:

Yoga: I know, I KNOW! Yoga is good for me, I get it. I want to be walking around all loose and relaxed, telling people to "Namaste." But let me put it to you this way:  have you ever tried to set up a tent, and you clip in the poles and then try to get the end of the pole in it's little sleeve, and the pole just won't bend? Like, you're trying to bend a piece of steel into this little pocket, and you're like WTF! And the tent flies up and away from you, resisting to that tiny bend it needs to take. Yeah, that tent pole is my body. Me doing yoga is like trying to bend steel. I'm sure it will be glorious when I get there, but it's gonna' be a bitch to set up that tent.

Swimming: I love the thought of swimming, I really do. The fluidity and gentleness of it, the ease of motion, the way you can hear your heart beating. But let's face it, getting into a bathing suit in my "off shaving season" is never pleasant, and the water is never as warm as I want it to be, and there is nothing graceful about me swimming. When I was training for a triathlon a few years ago, I went to a swim training group at a local gym, led by a coach who is also a successful triathlete. It was crowded, and we had to share lanes. I was with a nice woman who must have been 30 years my elder, who proceeded to lap me at least 3 times during the 8 minute warm-up. We were WARMING UP for pete's sake, and I got passed. 3 times. The coach pulled me aside after the warm-up, and very sweetly suggested I head to the farthest lane, you know, for the painfully slow swimmers (I was the only one in that lane), and he gave me ideas on how to "pare down", i.e. totally skip, the workout.

Walking: Okay, this one I can do. This morning I got up early, bundled up for the 16 degree weather, and then I did something a little crazy for me. I snuck earphones under my hat and listened to music as I walked! (Thanks to the inspiration from my friend at Running With Music). "This is not so bad," I thought, as I cruised along with a little skip in my step. Jack Johnson, Ben Harper, and Ingrid Michaelson all sang to me as I walked along the Montpelier streets, passing dimly lit houses where I knew people were just getting up to start their day. I tried not to look too longingly at the runners going by, their determined looks, headlamps and shiny tights all taunting me. Instead, the music put me in a trance, and I let the miles tick by. Suddenly I realized I must have been gone a long time, and I imagined my husband at home trying to get the boys ready for school, wondering where I was. I hurried the last several blocks home, sure I had been gone an hour. Of course I didn't think about looking at my phone to check the time, and when I stepped inside our warm, quiet home, my family was just getting up. I had been gone only 23 minutes.

I have some work to do over the next several weeks. If you happen to see me doing my best to bend at a yoga class, be kind. If you see me splashing madly in the pool and barely moving forward, don't worry, I'm okay. And, if you see me walking in the early morning, and you hear me singing Ingrid Michaelson at the top of my lungs, just please go ahead and give me the "thumb's up." I'm just getting used to a different motion.

 P.S. You know those triathlons I was training for? This is me getting out of the water at one. Notice there is no one around me? Yeah, that's because I was the last one out of the water.

A Serious Slice of Humble Pie

"You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run."

Ah, Kenny Rogers, you sing it so true. When I signed up for the Green Stride Half Marathon in Newburyport, MA a few months ago, I looked forward to training for a PR. I was primed and ready, having come off of some nice summer races and feeling like I was getting into a running groove. I began training towards a time range of 1:34-1:37, which I felt was realistic and achievable. Never in my wildest "worst case scenarios" did I imagine what would actually happen- I would get my first DNF (did not finish).

So, how does a primed and ready runner go from awesome races and great training runs to a DNF? Let's just say there were some red flags (skipping cross-training, doing a bit too much speed work, hurting my back, to name a few...), which I virtually ignored. I kept plugging along with my training, because I was LOVING running! I was on a roll, enjoying the cooler mornings and beautiful fall weather we were having, meeting up with running friends I hadn't seen all summer, and enjoying the endurance I had built up so that going for a 10 mile run felt like a piece of cake.

When, 2.5 weeks before the race my back suddenly spasmed while I was cooking dinner, I tried not to panic. I had never had back pain before, so I took it easy, went to the chiropractor, got a massage, saw a PT, and stayed on top of it, or so I thought. (On a side note, with all the attention to my back, this was quickly becoming the world's most expensive race). When race weekend rolled around, I was fresh off a little stomach bug (yet another red flag), and my back and hamstrings were tight and achey. But I wasn't ready to "fold 'em." I had planned this race weekend as a get-together with two good friends who live in MA, and we were going to live it up at a hotel, kid-free. And by living it up, I mean we went out to dinner, got gelato, and were in bed by 9:00 pm. It was so great to see these dear friends, though, and there was no way I would have bailed on the race, because that would mean missing out on our weekend. Not running the race did not even enter my mind.

Race morning comes around. While waiting in the giant port-potty line (PSA: do not ever, ever get behind me in any line. I always pick the slowest one. Always.), I was starting to become aware of some tight muscles. I stretched a bit, but could not shake the sense I had that the slightest movement, even a little sneeze, would send my back into spasms. I decided to ignore this feeling, because really, what could I do at this point? It was race day, the sun was shining, blue skies above, beautiful autumn colors all around. It was a good day to run.

I lined up with my friends. We gave each other hugs, said good luck, and reminded ourselves how lucky we were to run and how we just wanted to enjoy this day. The starting horn blew and we were off. The first mile we went out a little fast- 6:53. I felt great though. We tried to dial it back a bit, and the next mile we were closer to our goal range - 7:10. I was happy and still feeling good. The third mile had some little hills and we were at 7:20. The next mile we came in at 7:17, and I was still feeling surprisingly great.  Phew, I thought to myself. I'm going to do this! I made a plan to try to pick up the pace at mile 7 and try for some negative splits.

There was a water stop just after the mile 4 marker, so literally moments after deciding to try to speed up in a few miles, I reached out for a cup, took a big swig, and when I went to toss the cup to the ground, my back suddenly seized up. I jerked back a bit from the pain, and when I did that my left hamstring seized up. Crap! I did not know what to do. I looked around in a panic, fully expecting a random spectator to tell me what to do. That didn't happen, and I watched as my friend ran on ahead, unaware of my gimping behind her, as she was fully expecting me to be at her side soon. I thought about calling out to her, but I didn't want to break her stride and I thought with great hope that I could just shake this out and catch right back up.

No such luck. I was hampered by two things- if I lengthened my left leg out to my normal stride, I felt searing pain down to my heel. So I had to shorten my stride. Second, if I took deep breaths, I got jabbing pain in my back, so I had to take little breaths. Mile 5 I came in at 7:40. Ugh, but I still wasn't ready to fold 'em. Mile 6 came in at 7:53, and I was really struggling at that pace. Ok, I'll dial it back. At around mile 6.5,  I was at an 8:30 pace, and I had a horrible sinking feeling when I realized what I needed to do. I was only hurting myself more by continuing to run. People zoomed past me, and I started to feel like I had become a spectator, watching all the racers running by. They were all going to finish but me.

I passed a sign taped to a tree that said "pain is temporary, pride is forever." I thought of all the other races I had done where I had struggled. I've raced a lot, so there were many. Those races were physically hard, emotionally challenging, and yes, sometimes heartbreaking. In those races, I had to let go of a time I wanted mid-race, or shift my goal to "just finish." But every time, I finished the race. I had never stopped running. I always ran through the pain, ran through the disappointment, just kept running. But this time was different. When I saw the mile 7 marker, I hit "stop" on my watch, and hobbled over to the side of the road. This was the race where I needed to swallow my pride, this pain was not temporary. I stopped running and stood there on the side of the road, not sure what I was supposed to do next. What happens after you fold em'?

The next 45 minutes was a huge low for me. I ended up getting a ride back to the finish from one of the race directors, who was so sweet as he tried to reassure me that I'd be racing again soon while I sat quietly in his truck, wishing I was still running. He delivered me to the finish just in time to see my friends run in. It was great to get to cheer them on, and I was so proud of them, knowing how hard they had worked for this race. As I watched them come in, though, I was surprised when I felt not a twinge of guilt or remorse, but actually I was proud of myself, too. I was listening to my body. The pain I felt in my back and leg was unlike any injury I had experienced before. It was time for me to stop and listen to what my body needed. It was time to fold 'em and walk away.

Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment that I hope will help me get on the path to recovery. I haven't let go of my PR goal yet, I'm just going to shelve it for now. I'm going to take this opportunity to reflect on how I got this injury and how I can avoid injuries in the future.

As for the rest of the race day, shortly after the race it was time to say goodbye to my friends. They were supportive of my decision to drop out of the race and encouraged me to rest and recover. They have both dealt with major injuries and know how hard but necessary it can be to take a break from training. We hugged goodbye and decided next year we're going to a spa instead.