Hillbillies- Putting the "We" in Running

Way back one cold morning in February while I was running with a group of women in Calais, it was decided we would all run the Vermont 100 on 100 Relay in August. The 100 on 100 is a 6 person relay race along Vermont's Route 100, starting in Stowe and finishing at Okemo Mountain Resort. I had been meeting these 5 women for a run every Sunday for the past several months, after being welcomed into their group by a friend. On this particular day, August seemed so far away, and the six of us really enjoyed running together and it didn't seem like a bad idea. 

Fast forward to early August, just a few weeks ago. It seemed like a bad idea to me. A really bad idea. I had spent the summer away with my family, and had enjoyed many great runs, but all of them solo and I was feeling out of sync with running in a group.  Of the 100 miles we would do collectively, I would run 17.5 of them, split between 3 legs. I started to get anxious a couple weeks before the race. While I had missed these amazing women and couldn't wait to catch up with them, I was realizing that it wasn't just me stepping up to the starting line, it was all of us, depending on each other. They were holding me accountable, and if I hadn't done my training I may let them down. And, these ladies are FAST runners, often effortlessly cruising up hills. (I know how they look running up hills, because I'm always behind them on the hills. Way behind). Gulp.

For a little perspective, these ladies were not putting the pressure on me. They seemed to be approaching the race as if someone was going to hand them a glass of chardonnay while they sat on a dock dangling their feet into the lake. Our team name was "The Hillbillies" after all. 

The morning of the race arrived, and as soon as I hopped in the car with them, I could tell we all had our varying degrees of anxiety. We all saw the team aspect of race, and we wanted to keep up the "team" pace. As Katie, our first runner, lined up at the starting line, the weather was still cool and a quiet fog hung over the race banner and hills surrounding Trapp Family Lodge. I have to admit something here, which I haven't confessed to anyone yet. I always get emotional at the start of a race. It doesn't matter if it's a one mile race or a half-marathon, there is something about the energy of people lined up,  nervously jumping around, watches at the ready, that fills me with emotion. The awareness of the miles logged, goals made, friendships solidified over early morning runs, basically everyone's hopes and dreams seem to fill the air around me at the start of the race. Without fail, tears blur my vision just before the gun goes off.  

So, when Katie stood in the fog surrounded by all the other first runners, and the rest of each team gathered around the starting line with cheers and whoops, I had to turn away for a moment as my eyes filled with tears. It was too much amazing-ness to take. I was so proud of Katie, and so proud of all of us, for taking the time to train for this race. We are all mothers, between the 6 of us there are 12 children, yet we all make time to run. Which makes us pretty darn awesome. 

This sense of awe did not leave me once the race started. Because I was the 5th runner, I had the morning to cheer my teammates on. Each time we drove past a "Hillbilly", or stopped to hand them water, I was impressed with each woman. I'm usually running with them, so I don't get the chance to cheer them on like that. In the car, we chatted, laughed, and complained about how grueling the race was, but whenever we passed one of our runners, the car filled with cheers as we shouted out the window to our teammate. Then the car would be silent for a split second, followed by exclamations of how strong she looked, how fast she was running, how inspired we were. 

Yes, the race was hard. After my first leg I wasn't sure how I could run again, let alone run 12-plus more miles. After my second leg I had a splitting headache and wanted to crawl to the floor of the car for a nap. But we kept moving, we continued to hand off the bracelet, and we did not stop cheering for each other. 

By my third leg (5 miles flat or downhill), dusk had settled in and I ran into the darkness. I seemed to have gathered up all the energy from the day, the awe and amazement, and the emotion of it all, and it simply carried me along those 5 miles. I don't think I ran that leg, I floated it. Granted, I was probably on some crazy endorphin high or having dehydration hallucinations, but whatever, I felt amazing. I had an overwhelming sense of being a part of something greater than me, much like the sense I get at the start of every race. 

In my drunk-on-running state, I handed the bracelet off to Alex, and she began her last leg that would bring us into the finish. Despite the darkness, we still managed to recognize Alex's gait as we drove by her, and we once again cheered wildly. We then drove to the Okemo lodge, where the race actually ends in the lodge, and waited for Alex to run in. That feeling of seeing her finish the race with such speed and strength can best be summarized by this photo:

AMAZING!!

Here is my endorphin-induced epiphany I had while running my last leg of the 100 on 100: even when you're running alone, you're not really alone. You are a part of something greater, a team of runners around the world. The running community has runners of all shapes, sizes, ages, abilities. Fast runners, slow runners. Anyone who puts one foot in front of the other repeatedly, day after day, week after week. Running connects us all. 

So, if someone asks you to do the Vermont 100 on 100 Relay, say yes! You will undoubtedly regret saying yes at some point, but you will also surely be inspired by your teammates, and by all the runners out there. Who knows, maybe you'll see me next year again at the start. I'll be the one crying just before the gun goes off. 

August - Still Just Running to Run

Ahhh yes, it's August. The time of year when people here become separated into the following distinct groups:

1) Those getting caught up in the "back-to-school" buzz, lamenting how summer is over and it went too fast. Members of this group are stocking up on back-packs and planning out school lunch menus, all the while getting the best deals on summer sandals for their kids for NEXT summer.
2) Those who are vehemently angry towards said #1 group, because "summer is NOT over," and members of this group are frantically trying to squeeze in every last drop of summer. You may see this group throwing camping gear in the car and heading off to do the requisite summer camping trip, while eating the hot dog and chips that they forgot to have yet this summer (what? who forgets that?).
3) Those who can not hear any of the back-to-school plans, or the "summer is NOT over" grumbles, on account of the lake water lodged deep in their ears. Members of this group are walking around in a blissful daze caused by a constant sugar-high from daily ice cream balanced with hours staring at the way the clouds float slowly over the lake. They also will be found writing June 27th on their checks, and if you ask them who their children's teachers are this year, they may give you a puzzled, far-away look.

Where do I stand on this list? 97% in the #3 camp, with the last 3% wavering back and forth between #1 and #2.

This summer has been great. Really, really great. I have watched my boys turn into tanned, summer boys ready to grab their fishing poles and head to the beach at a moment's notice. I have been impressed with their ability to sleep in a tent, pick up new skills (kayaking, plant identification, s'more-making), and make themselves at home at any one of the 8 (yes, 8) places we have stayed this summer.

I'm impressed, too, that my husband and I have managed to get some work done this summer. One of us a little more than the other. Ahem. Let me just brush the beach sand off my feet. And, I have reveled in the running and racing I have done. Most of the runs I have done were not only without my Garmin, but without a watch at all! No headphones either, just me and the miles ahead with no worries of how fast or slow I was running. Just running to run.

I do realize I need to deal with the water deep in the crevice of my ear. It's kind of starting to hurt. And every once in a while I have this sneaking suspicion that there are other seasons besides summer. But for now, I'm going to live it up, eat my ice cream, swim with my boys and run with no watch. At least until we return back home, and back to reality next week on June 27th. Oh right, I mean August 19th.

Live it up everyone!

Family Time!

It had been way too long since East Coast & West Coast Illuminated Runners had been together. Christmas was the last time I had seen my sister. Way too long. So, her visit this past week was dreamy. And, with my brother and his family here as well, we got some great family time in. Some highlights include:

• Early morning cross fit-style workouts (WODs), with my mom spectating for a couple of them, and shaking her head in disbelief. Though she did threaten to do some burpees with us.  

This picture is after we completed "Maple":

5 Rounds

Overhead log lunge around garden

10 burpees over log

10 log push press

10 log squats

100 yd hill sprint

• Completing the Caspian Challenge 6.8 mile race around the lake, with Kathleen and Karl and my boys cheering me on. This picture doesn't show how psyched I was that my oldest son, Maclay, came running up to me and finished the last 100 meters with me. In his flip-flops, with his baseball glove :).

• Oven fire caused by cooking 3 (yes, 3!) packages of bacon.
• My family giving my sister and her boyfriend (Kathleen Ruffle and Karl McDade) a new couple-moniker that would make Brangelina cry in their sleep: Karleen McRuffle.
• Making s'mores by the fire and my sister-in-law and Maclay bonding over whittling a crazy sharp spear.

• Major laughter. Yes, my family has its own set of disagreements, personality quirks, etc., but we know how to laugh. Serious belly laughter. I love that.

It was a great week, and I was sad to see my sister and Karl head back to California. Sigh. Next week we'll have to say goodbye to my brother and his family when they head back to their home in Bangladesh. Double sigh. I truly do appreciate the limited time I have with my whole family together, in all its chaos, and with all the planning that needs to be done, it is still priceless. 

Running Towards My Strongest Self

Last Monday I set out to do my all-time favorite run. It's a 7.5 mile loop around Caspian Lake from my family's cottage in Greensboro. In one word: gorgeous. Yes, it has a few wicked hills, but the run takes you along a mix of dirt and paved roads, past farms, historic landmarks, along fields looking down on the glacial lake, and past quaint age-old cottages nestled in the pine trees.

So as I prepared for the run last Monday, I was excited. It was early enough in the morning that the weather was not too warm, it was a nice clear day, and things were lining up for a great run. A beam of light seemed to shine down on me as I started out on the run, nothing could crush my spirit. Only it wasn't a great run. It sucked. A mile or so in my spirit was stomped flat as a pancake. My legs were heavy, I couldn't get into a rhythm, I counted down the miles, and I ran the entire loop at least 1 minute per mile slower than I did a couple months ago. There was really no explanation for it, it just wasn't my day for running. And that's how running is, you just never know. Not every run is going to be fist-pumping, high-fiving awesome. It's a bummer, but it's true.

Running can be really, really hard. But like most physical challenges, there's a purpose to the pain. What I find most interesting as a personal trainer and running coach is the physiological changes that happen when we run or strength train. Our muscles get stronger by being stressed, more specifically muscle tissues experience tiny tears. We are actually being broken down in many ways through exercise! According to Gretchen Reynolds, author of The First 20 Minutes, each time we stress our bodies with exercise, our muscle tissues tear apart and then "the tissues rebuild themselves, becoming stronger and more pliable...which happens to be the foundation of fitness." Yes! I believe this happens on an emotional level, too. Sometimes running breaks me down, tears at my confidence, humbles me. But then I run again, and I rebuild myself. I become a stronger version of myself on my next run.

And then eventually, again and again, I will have an awesome run. I will feel great, strong, free. I will be ready to be broken down again. In this way, I am always running towards my strongest self.


 

Getting Lost in Waitsfield

This morning I was excited to do another run in beautiful Waitsfield, VT, where we have been housesitting for the past week. I mapped out a nearly 7 mile run and I was looking forward to exploring the area a little more. I had done a shorter version of the run yesterday, and I double checked Map My Run and made sure I understood the extra loop I was adding on.

The sky was gray and cloudy, but I was sure it would clear up soon, I had checked the weather report and it was not supposed to rain. 1 mile in it was pouring, and as I wiped rain from my eyes I reminded myself, this is okay, people run marathons in rain. I'm only running 7 miles today. It's going to be a great run. And I actually felt great. It was one of those runs where I settled right into a steady pace and my legs felt strong and my mind was ready to drift away.

I headed into downtown and crossed a historic covered bridge, hung a left onto Joslin Hill Rd, then a quick right onto Brook St and the extra loop. According to Map My Run, this route had a 2 mile climb at about mile 2.5, and sure enough, I found myself heading up. At this point, I was drenched, my shorts and shirt were sticking to me with some serious suction power and I felt like I had an extra 10 lbs on me trudging up the hill. But soon I was at my turn, where I was supposed to meet up with the road I had run on yesterday. Though with rain dripping into my eyes, I may or may not have paid attention to the road sign. As I continued to climb up I had a vague thought that the scenery wasn't familiar, but chalked that up to the rain.

And, it was beautiful! The clouds hung in wispy layers over the fields and hills, and the hills backed up to mountain after mountain, the colors beginning in rich forest greens, and fading into slate gray and thick clouds in the distance. I thought of peace and beauty and poetry and soon Mary Oliver and David Budbill were running along beside me, describing the landscape to me in whispery words. I ran past farms with ancient tractors, past green meadows and windy dirt driveways heading to someone's Shangri-La.

As I crested the hill and saw a busy, main road, I realized I had indeed taken a wrong turn somewhere. Oh geez. My instincts told me to turn left onto the main road, but after a quarter of a mile I realized it might be wise to do the opposite of what my gut tells me when it comes to navigation. Turning around and running the other direction on this busy road, cars whizzing past me, I was acutely aware of my wet white t-shirt. Not in a "woo-boo, Spring Break, wet t-shirt contest" kind of a way. More in the "these people driving by should not be seeing what the belly of a woman who has had 3 babies looks like with a shirt clinging to all its jiggly glory" kind of a way. And it was still pouring rain.

Here's my second directional instinct (listen up, Outward Bound folks, this could be a teachable moment): because I was on a main road, paved, with speed limit 40 mph, I felt like I would end up somewhere. I mean, roads like that don't just end up at a small dirt road, right? Now heading down the hill, I still felt great, though the couple bites of a kid's Clif bar had worn off and I was officially hungry. Soon I could see a valley below, with more houses and I was sure there would be a general store where I would stop in and give my husband an S.O.S. call. He would have to drive miles and miles to come rescue me from the far-reaches of the Mad River Valley.

Or not. Because then I saw a road sign that looked familiar. Joslin Hill Rd. And a covered bridge ahead. Wait, what? I stopped and threw my arms up in disbelief, surely alarming the locals looking out their windows, sipping morning coffee. Yep, I was pretty much in downtown Waitsfield, a mere mile away from the house we were staying at. Thanks to my inner navigational system (or luck, whatever), I had only added a few miles to my run. And it was a great run! I jogged into the driveway fully expecting my husband to be in a panic as to where I had been. But he greeted me with a nod, coffee in hand, asking me "a little wet for you?"Yep, a little wet and a lot awesome, I thought as I rode the endorphin high right to the coffeemaker.

That's one thing I love about running. It's always new. A runner is a traveler, an explorer, visiting new roads, taking in beauty, running alongside poets, and yes, occasionally getting lost. It's all part of the journey.

Exhibit A: The run I meant to do. (Isn't it a little weird how much it looks like Africa?)

Exhibit B: The run I actually did.

Let the Adventurz Begin!

It's true. It looks like I  stole my sister's first blog post title, but if you look closely, you'll see I added a z at the end, so technically it's not copying. ;) Okay, it is...I won't do it again*.

Anyway....I'm excited to start blogging! Especially since last night I had another running dream where I was running a 800meter race, and early on found myself at the front of the pack. Soon enough my legs started to get heavy and I slowed down. Then I realized I was pushing a heavy prowler(torturous cross-fit workout device that basically is a sled with weight on it) and everyone else was just pushing cardboard. I was losing my lead fast, and kept trying to move my legs, but they would only shuffle along."Just keep running!" I told myself as cardboard cut outs of objects being pushed by fellow racers flew by me. At this point, I willed myself awake, laughing at the absurdity of it, but also dying to search for dream analysis online....

 Let me just say that it's been a crazy year for me. Last year at this time I was getting ready for my first Rwanda trip, where I went to Kigali to teach SAT & TOEFL to a group of amazing young women who applied to colleges this past fall in the U.S. I LOVED my time there, loved the adventure and when I came back to San Francisco in the fall, my life of tutoring and personal training all over the city, all hours of the day, all days of the week seemed less appealing. I needed to make a change. So when I was offered a temporary  3 month teaching job starting in January, back in Rwanda, this time in a small village at an all girls school... I jumped on it. I gave up my apartment, gave notice to my jobs...and then one week before I was set to leave for Vermont to spend the month with my family before heading to Rwanda ..... I met Karl (!!!) We had an immediate connection and, I'll make a long story very short....there were lots of visits and planes....he spent 10 days in Rwanda....and after I came back I moved in with him in Berkeley!! Yea!!

Now, I'm trying to piece together a more sane life than before, but so far am still zipping around from job to job. Also....about 6 months ago, when I was at the beginning of changing everything up, I joined two friends to start a non-profit called Give A Day Global, which pairs international travelers with daylong volunteering opportunities. It's been so exciting, energizing and BUSY as we prepare to launch in the fall.

As I write all this down... It's clear to me that amidst all the chaos is the realization that everything that's happened this year has been really amazing. I also realize that one of the things that has kept me sane and calm is running. Hitting the ground with my feet...listening to that rhythm, is my way to clear my head and to keep on keeping on.

Looking forward to continuing that rhythm and to the next few months of adventurz**!! :)

* I needed to copy once more
** But that's it!

The Montpelier Mile & Other Festivities

I know many of you may cringe when I say this, but the mile is my favorite race. I love it. It's speedy, it's challenging, and it's over within mere minutes. I only know of one mile race in Vermont, the annual Montpelier Mile at the start of the July 3rd parade (yep, that's how we do it in Montpelier, a July 3rd parade, 'cause we can).

The tricky thing about the mile race for me is pacing. I get so used to running longer races that I forget that with a mile I don't really need to settle in to a pace the way I do with a 10k or half-marathon. So for this race, I had focused on training with some 400s, to remember what speed feels like and to get a sense of how hard I needed to push.

But come race day, I fell into the pace trap. I found myself hanging back cautiously after the first quarter, then remembering I could push harder in the last quarter when it was just a little too late. The good news is I broke 6 minutes, my first goal, the bad news is I had way too much gas left in my tank at the finish. But that extra bit of energy was nice to have for watching the parade that followed with my 3 boys. And, there's nothing like running in front of hundreds of people to charge up your spirits. I loved hearing people cheering for me, thanks for all the support friends!

Lesson learned: run hard with a mile race, it should feel like a sprint. If anyone knows of another mile race within a couple hours drive of Montpelier, please let me know. I'm ready for my next one! And, thanks Onion River Sports for organizing my favorite race of the year!

Next race on my calendar: Caspian Challenge, a 6.8 mile race around Caspian Lake in Greensboro. I'm looking forward to this hilly but beautiful course.