Comeback

Yesterday was the NYRR Mini 10K, my favorite race of the season. It was the first all-women's road race in the country, founded during a period of time not so long ago when it was believed that if a woman ran long distances her uterus would fall out, and it still has the energy of a special occasion.  It begins with a flat mile up Central Park West, makes a right turn into the park just south of the Harlem hill, loops clockwise around the east side of the park, and finishes at the NYC Marathon finish line just east of Tavern on the Green.

I was registered for the race, I had picked up my number and had toyed with the idea of running. But, at 8:00 yesterday morning as the starting gun was fired, I wasn't there. Three weeks ago I awoke on Saturday morning and, at almost exactly the same time yesterday's starting pistol was fired, I had a small stroke (called a Transient Ischemic Attack or TIA) while standing in my kitchen. My arm went numb and fell to my side, the dog food I was holding scattered across the floor, and when I turned to my husband to say, "I think I'm having a stroke," the words formed a nonsensical string of syllables in my head.

Within twenty minutes I was in a CAT scan at Roosevelt Hospital, followed by a battery of tests over the weeks that have passed since. With specialist appointments scheduled weekly till Independence Day, the limbo between incident and diagnosis lingers on.

I haven't fully trusted my body since the stroke. Without knowing the cause, I keep feeling like at any moment it could happen again. I can feel its residual effects in the weakness in my right hand, in the extra effort it takes to smile with the right side of my mouth, in the dragging of my right foot when I'm especially tired, in the sudden dizziness that comes on when I walk too fast, and in the occasional stutter that gives away that it's harder for me to get the words out than it was just a few weeks ago. If you don't see me every day you might not notice anything amiss, I am very lucky that the damage isn't worse; but, it is something that I'm always worrying about and always hoping no one else can see.

This bracelet was paired with a matching sign above my bed.
Given my lack of grace in daily life, we thought maybe a Fall Risk
bracelet would be a good addition to my standard jewelry rotation.

It was upsetting to miss yesterday's race. In the three years that I've been running, I've done the Mini every year. But, I just couldn't count on making it the full six miles. As I saw my friends post pictures with their medals on Facebook, I thought of a woman I've seen in Central Park almost every morning since I started running.

She looks about 70 years old. She is always on the lower loop in the same baby blue running shorts and matching t-shirt. Her focus is unaffected by what she is overcoming. Her right arm, locked tightly to her side, is clearly paralyzed. Her stride is altered, favoring her left leg. Her face is pinched, but she stares straight ahead with an even gaze.

In the past three years I've seen her adapting. I can remember clearly the loping limp with which she ran the first time I saw her, it was what caught my attention in the busy swarm of morning runners. Watching her rebuild, after what was clearly a devastating incident, has served as an inspiration for me to push harder and run farther since I first laid eyes on her; but, when she crossed my mind today it was different.

I thought of her and I thought of how lucky I am. Rather than distrusting my body for one incident, I thought back to the times I've been amazed at the things it could do. Things that had been inconceivable to me before. I decided to go for a run, my first run back. It wasn't six miles and it wasn't easy, but there were moments of peace in it that I haven't had in the stress of these past few weeks.

I know I'll need that as I cycle through the diagnostic process and possible surgery or treatment, whatever that may be. It's soothing to have an outlet that can create that and to know, on days when I'm feeling my body's current limitations, that through consistent gradual effort it has already proven itself capable of more than I thought possible. It can do it again.

With my friend Katie before the 2013 NYRR Mini 10K.

Stroke in young women is more common than many people realize and can manifest in a variety of unusual symptoms. Many people don't know the warning signs or risk factors, and some just think they couldn't possibly be having a stroke simply because they aren't old enough for it to be a problem. Take a moment and read up by clicking here.

My Ruby Slippers

The first time I bought honest-to-goodness running shoes was in Minnesota at a store called the Running Room.  I was home for a weekend of highs and lows which included both the wedding of my oldest friend and the funeral of my beloved grandfather (whose passing had served as the catalyst that got me running).  I did the purchase by the book, had my gait assessed and tried in vain to hide my disappointment as the clerk strode past the vibrant reds and blues of the neutral running shoes to select a pair of grey and violet stability shoes.  Not wanting to defeat the purpose of the trip, I dutifully purchased the recommended pair and left the store wishing there was something a bit brighter in my bag.

The first time I ran in them it felt like I was floating, they were that much of an improvement.  However, they remained aesthetically uninspiring.  I looped Central Park feeling like my shoes were the sensible grandmother of the shoes on the other runners, and nothing says slow down and be careful like a sensible grandmother.  My body was feeling lean and fast, I wanted my shoes to feel the same way. 

After much consultation with people who know more than I do (namely former high school theatre friend turned marathon guru, Alyssa) I decided to put in the work to adapt my gait so I could run in neutral shoes and began the search for the best pair of bright red shoes on the market.  Turns out there are a lot of shades of red, but when they're shades of red used to make running shoes they're never called red.  They're called things like InfraRed, Core Energy, Hot Punch, and Papaya and when they arrive you discover they're really orange or pink, especially women's shoes because everyone knows that pink is for girls.  I stayed the course and you can imagine my delight when I unwrapped the tissue paper to find these:

Adidas Adizero Boston 2W - Fresh Out the Box

I couldn't have been happier, especially since I'd ordered two pairs in the hopes that these would be the shoe.  I had enough that I would be able to wear the reds for the October half marathon I'd been working toward, my final qualifying race for the 2012 NYC Marathon.  On race day they felt great, they felt like the right thing to be wearing when I reached the culmination of this year-long goal, and the search for the shoes proved to be worthwhile.

In the months to follow I stayed loyal to the Adizero Boston, ordering whatever colors happened to be on sale through Eastbay or Zappos.  I've ended up with a couple pairs that are melon-colored that do the job but they just don't stack up to the original reds.  Blame it on the effective branding of the University of Wisconsin, that color will for me forever symbolize the pinnacle of athleticism (regardless of the current standing of the Badger football program).  Or, you can blame Dorothy's legendary trek through the Land of Oz to the Emerald City in her iconic Ruby Slippers, what's not to love about a long hike set to a catchy tune?  Either way, it has become clear to me the past year that I feel much better running when the shoes are red.

I'm approximately 11 weeks and 315 miles out from the marathon with my longest training runs ahead.  In this time I will burn through one pair of shoes completely and will need to have my race shoes adequately broken in before November 4th.  I've been ordering and returning shoes the past few weeks, searching for the perfect red for race day and am currently sitting on two serious contenders:

Adidas Adizero Aegis 2W

and

Adidas Adizero Boston 3W

Both are certainly good options, I'm sure the choice will become clear as I'm breaking them in.  Either way, I'm thrilled that on November 4th, like Dorothy before me, I'll have my own pair of Ruby Slippers to carry me through all five boroughs of New York and back home to the finish, just a few blocks from my apartment on the Upper West Side.  

"Between saying and doing, many a pair of shoes is worn out." -Iris Murdoch, Author & Philosopher

 *Do some good with your worn out running shoes and donate them to one of these charities!

Newton's Law

Newton's first law of physics, as translated from its original Latin, is: Every body persists in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight forward, except insofar as it is compelled to change its state by force impressed.

I learned this rule from an episode of 3-2-1 Contact sometime in the mid-80's in its pre-school derivation of: An object in motion tends to remain in motion, and an object at rest tends to remain at rest.  In physics this law pertains to inertia, but its application to how people establishing an exercise routine define "momentum" is uncanny.

The impact of momentum is amazing. When it's working in your favor it drives you to go further and faster than you thought possible; but, when you've lost it, it seems like the steps to even get out the door are insurmountable.  After securing my guaranteed entry into the 2012 New York City Marathon last October I spent a good seven months generally at rest.  My running dropped off to the point where it could be most generously described as sporadic.  I didn't even have any sort of regular exercise routine and averaged, at best, two workouts per week.  In that time I was a wee bit foolish and ran two half marathons and a 10k completely untrained and, thankfully, did not injured myself. 

When I started racing I started very strong, knocking out a 15k in 8:27 minutes per mile after just six weeks of consistent running and really not feeling like I ever pushed myself during the race.  My 10k PR that season came in at 50:49 and 8:11 minutes per mile after taking a month-long break from running, surprising considering I walked half a mile of the race due to improper rest stop planning. 

Needless to say, seven months of rest did not do much to maintain those times and my paces have suffered.  I could choose to look at the decline in my paces and criticize myself for letting it go, but I think that would be completely unproductive.  I'm choosing, instead, to look at it as a positive.  In only six weeks of consistent training, I got that far. 

In 103 days I will be running the ING NYC Marathon, a fact that the ticker on the New York Road Runners website will not let me forget.  That's about 15 weeks.  That's two and a half times as long as it took to get me to an 8:27 m/m 15k.  If the logic behind Runner's World's race time equivalent calculator is sound, that pace would predict for me a 3:59:25 marathon.

So, I've got 15 weeks, a month of reasonably consistent training behind me, and a week-old 10k pace that predicts a 04:01:00 marathon.  I'm thinking that between now and November 4th, if I can harness the momentum I've gathered in the past month, I can not only finish this marathon strong but can get myself respectably below the 4 hour mark. 

"The will to win means nothing without the will to prepare."  -Juma Ikangaa, 1989 NYC Marathon Winner

Why?

I often get asked that question. I suppose it's valid, runners choose to participate in an activity that's seemingly the same boring, repetitive, grueling routine every single day with the long-term milestones being few and far between and the victories generally being only of personal significance unless you happen to be a world class athlete.

The question is simple enough, but the answer is not. It would be enough to say, "It's good exercise," and leave it at that; but, as runners know, there's more to it than that. Luckily, I've had ample time to contemplate this during my boring, repetitive, grueling morning routine! After much deliberation I've come up with a "Top 5" that I believe adequately summarizes what I find most gratifying about this practice.

Reason #1: Running is quantifiable.
It is a finite, accomplishable task I can complete every day. There's something very satisfying in doing something with a clear starting point and a clear finish. In any given day, even if nothing else is completed except my morning run, I feel like I've made some progress.

Reason #2: Running gives me a stretch of time each day to spend outside.
I spend so many hours sitting in an office, riding on a subway car or cooped up in a tiny little apartment that, even though I live in the concrete jungle, running still feels like being in nature. After converting from a treadmill runner to an outdoor runner, I now understand the simple joy in this and look forward to that time when the morning light is perfect and the streets of the city and the paths of Central Park are empty of the gaggles of tourists that are their norm and seem to be reserved solely for the runners of the city.

Reason #3: Running has made me part of a new community.
Through it, I've reconnected with old friends from high school, community theatre, and college and have had current friendships evolve. In addition to connecting with fellow runners, I've had the opportunity to reconnect with the people who so generously contributed to my fundraising campaign for this year's Colon Cancer Challenge 15k. Old friends, new friends, family and people I've never even met contributed a total of $2,612 to support colon cancer research, surpassing the $2,500 goal I had set and humbling me with their kindness.

Reason #4: Running has become my religion.
I am a Godless heathen, I was not baptized, I was raised in a household that can most accurately be defined as atheist and, as a religious minority in a predominantly Christian community, I always wondered what the appeal was in prescribing to a specific faith. Since I began running it has occurred to me that much of the appeal could lie in the ritual. There's a certain comfort to following a set of sacred routines that, in spite of conditions, are carried out in exactly the same manner each time they are performed. I am very much a creature of habit and I like knowing that tomorrow morning I will get out of bed, lace up my running shoes, tie up my hair, and join my fellow converts on the loop in Central Park.

And Reason #5: Running is honest.
Any number of things can happen between the moment you cross the starting line and the moment you cross the finish, but the truth is that the amount of effort and care you put into preparing for any given race is going to be clearly reflected in the time on the clock when you're done. There are no excuses to be made. The amount of miles you log per week, the cross-training you partake in, the time you spend studying the course map, and the food you eat to fuel your running are all factors that are going to impact your results. Make good choices and you'll end up running a gratifying race and maybe even setting a new personal record. Make poor choices and you may end up wasting five minutes of your race waiting in line at the Porta Potty, finishing with a 10k time of 54:47 and a personal worst pace of 8:50 m/m all because you just had to eat a gigantic bowl of delicious cole slaw two days before the race and didn't anticipate the ramifications of consuming that much roughage. Not that that specific scenario has played out for anyone I know, just a generic example of how lack of planning can lead to a disappointing race day.

So, that's it. That's what I can come up with as the best answer to "Why?" Why I plan to begin each day, regardless of where I may be or what I may be working on, with a run. Why I am going to continue on this path that hopefully will continue past the initial goal of the NYC Marathon to include other races in other places. And why I will continue to analyze, with agonizing detail, every aspect of my running to try to achieve my personal best. I've decided that I want to be a runner, so that's what I will be.

"Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows that it must outrun the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn't matter whether you're a lion or a gazelle, when the sun comes up you'd better be running." -Anonymous

Like a Broken Record

Saturday morning, May 14th. Race Day. The UAE Healthy Kidney 10k, race number 4 of the 9 I need to finish to gain guaranteed entry to the 2012 ING New York City Marathon.

There is a New York Road Runners race nearly every weekend, most of which take place in Central Park, but the buzz around this race was different. In an effort to increase the profile of the city as a runner's mecca, the Road Runners organization extended invitations to the world's fastest 10k runners, luring them to the city with a prize purse totaling $45,000, $25,000 for winning the race and an additional $20,000 if the winner broke the course record of 27:42.

While my ambitions don't include breaking course records, I did wake up that morning with the intention of shattering my 10k personal record. I woke up before the alarm, excited to launch into my pre-race routine, get to the park, and get running. However, the clock said 4:00 so I decided to stay in bed and try to rest up for a couple more hours. When 6:00 finally rolled around I hopped out of bed, popped my bagel in the toaster and began the routine that has rapidly become tradition. Braid hair, wash face, apply sunscreen, brush teeth, clip toenails, stretch out, put on race clothes, double knot shoes, pack post-race supplies, head out the door.

I was confident I had controlled every variable that I could to ensure a great race. I was fueled, rested, energized, my injured hip was recovered and my mileage base and cross training were nearing their former levels. In addition to my standard race prep, I had studied the locations of the bathrooms along the course so I knew exactly when and where I would be stopping so as to not have to walk half a mile of the race with a full bladder. Surely a new personal record was guaranteed, there was no way it was going to take me longer than 50:49 to finish this race.

When I got to the park I lined up in my designated corral along with the 8,000 other people eagerly awaiting the start of the hilly clockwise trek around Central Park that constituted the day's 10k course. From the front of the pack, this is what the race looked like. Three of the recruited Kenyans who were favored to win ran together for the first two miles of the race before Leonard Patrick Komon pulled ahead, covering the first 5k in 13:26. He crossed the finish line at 27:35 to break the record and win the purse. I understand it was an inspiring sight.

While Komon was breaking records, I was just south of 107th Street coming to about the halfway point of the race. My splits for the first three miles were as follows: Mile 1 - 9:01, Mile 2 - 8:08, Mile 3 - 9:01. My goal heading into the park was to run an average pace faster than 8:11 per mile. Halfway in I was not pacing to accomplish that goal.

I don't know if it was the stress of the week leading into the race, the disgusting strawberry energy gel I tried out that morning, the two week hiatus I took from training in mid-April or the new armband that was housing my iPod but something about that race was off. Given the energy I had heading into the park I didn't expect the challenges of that route on that day and somewhere after the Harlem hill a voice in my head started bombarding me with all the things I'd done wrong in preparing for this race. My broken record that day had nothing to do with the time I ran, mine was the list of things I could have done differently that repeated over and over in my head like a Milli Vanilli concert track.

I ended up finishing with a time of 53:31 and a pace of 8:37 per mile. My worst race pace to date.

But, I need to be okay with that. Race #4 is over, there's no second chance to run it, it's just done. There are multiple factors that could have effected my pace, I can't possibly control all the variables, I just need to go into Race #5 with a goal and try to accomplish it. Before June 11th the only thing that I can do to better my chances of beating my personal record is to wake up each morning for the next two and a half weeks and train. Just try to do better than the day before and keep building from the base I've established.

This isn't going to be a journey with predictable improvement at every event, the game is going to change each time and I need to be just as prepared for that as I am for the elements of racing that are within my control.

So, while I fully intend to wake up on June 11th, eat my bagel, braid my hair, and pack my post-race banana and chocolate milk in Sid's backpack, I know that on that morning all I can do is run the best race that I have in me. I'll either end that day with a new personal record to beat or a more clear idea of what I need to do to improve before June 25th's Race #6.

Either way, I'll be one step closer to qualifying for the marathon.

"What distinguishes those of us at the starting line from those of us on the couch is that we learn through running to take what the day gives us, what our body will allow us, and what our will can tolerate." -John "The Penguin" Bingham, Runner and Writer

"I'm No Quitter"

Within the mess of photos, grocery lists and other souvenirs of daily life on my refrigerator clings a small square magnet. Pictured on it is a woman, perfectly coiffed, delicately holding a lit cigarette between her immaculately manicured red fingernails. The caption reads, "I'm no quitter."

This magnet has adorned refrigerators in Madison, Minneapolis and Manhattan after having been bestowed on me by my charming baby brother my senior year in college. There was a time when I would reference the magnet in arguments with my mother about my need to stop smoking. After all, if the beautiful, well-groomed woman on the magnet with the sassy 1940's hat could continue to proudly smoke, so could I.

My first post included all of the reasons it was irrational for me to train for a marathon, with my smoking listed as one of my primary obstacles. For the sake of full disclosure I feel I must clarify, I quit smoking two weeks before writing that blog post. To be perfectly frank, I included it in the initial blog because all evidence would have suggested that I would be unsuccessful in my efforts to quit.

I am proud to report that I have not had a cigarette since January 23, 2011. Today is my 100th day without smoking and the longest I've gone without a cigarette since I began smoking at age 15.

It's my understanding that it's customary for those who have quit smoking to impart their newfound expertise on the subject in a condescending fashion on all the filthy smokers we encounter. I don't have time for that so I'm just going to write what worked for me on here and then continue in my pattern of loudly, harshly and hypocritically voicing my disgust for smokers I pass in the street.

1) I wrote down all the rational reasons I had for quitting. (Eg. Cost of cigarettes, Time spent smoking, Health risks, Family reasoning, etc.) I quantified the most rational of reasons. (Smoking in NYC for 100 days costs approximately $600, Smoking half a pack per day means 12 hours per week are spent smoking, etc.) I then wrote all of the reasons I had to quit out by hand and posted them on the back of the door to my apartment. For me it was very important to have more than just the generic "Smoking Will Kill You" reasoning. Apparently the $1,200 I spend annually on this habit is more of a rational deterrent than the prospect of death.

It was also important to me that this be written in my own handwriting. It had to be a personal note. To: Me, From: Me. It couldn't be someone else telling me why I had to quit.

2) I created a rewards system for myself with goal dates to reach to receive the rewards. At first these were things like massages and haircuts, but then I realized that those things didn't really matter to me. So, I shifted my rewards to shoes. I was going to buy myself a pair of red heels, a pair of snakeskin heels and a pair of Kelly Green Converse All Stars.

Fast forward to May and I'm almost out of student loans, so those rewards will have to wait until I have gainful employment. I was complaining about the rigidity of my financial situation to my friend Dana and mentioned how it was unfortunate I wouldn't be able to reward myself adequately for my progress and she commented (in the very nonchalant way that only Dana can), "Isn't the fact that you're quitting smoking your reward to yourself?" Leave it to Dana to cut through all the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter. Since I had to stop with the reward system for the time being, the boyfriend has picked it up and has decided to reward me with a series of IOU's for awesome dates in and around New York City. Each date comes in the mail described on the back of a postcard specific to the location where the date will take place. He's an excellent boyfriend.

3) I kept a pack of cigarettes with me at all times. In fact, it's still in my bedside table. It has notes taped to the sides of the box and photos taped to the front and back of the box. On the back, my boyfriend Sid, who will apparently be "really pissed" if he eventually finds himself holding my hand while I'm hooked to a respirator (those are his words, not mine). That conversation was the first time I really realized that my smoking wasn't just about me, it's about everyone in my life who cares about me having to eventually watch me suffering all the consequences of years of self-destructive behavior. On the front, my mom. I have no idea what the bond between mother and child feels like, and I hear I won't until I have my own children, but I hear it's unpleasant to watch them habitually engage in behaviors with such long-term adverse effects. I then sealed the pack of cigarettes (because it was half smoked) with packaging tape so that getting one out wouldn't be as easy as just opening the box and would give me some time to think about whether or not I really wanted one before tearing into the pack.

I kept the half full pack with me at all times because it was important to me that I be controlling the addiction, not allowing the addiction to control me. I chose the date that I was quitting, it was not determined by when my last pack ran out. I wasn't not smoking because I didn't have cigarettes, I was not smoking because I was choosing not to.

4) I had a plan. A strategic plan, of course, for how to deal with the onset of any cravings. I also wrote this out in my own handwriting, laminated it (because who doesn't love to laminate?), and kept it in the little pouch in my bag that housed my doctored pack of cigarettes. Also in this pouch, a pack of delicious fruity gum. While quitting I really branched out in the gum chewing department and found a whole new set of flavors that are not available in the treasure chest in my father's dental office. My current favorite is Strawberry Shortcake, mostly because I feel like Violet Beauregarde in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I have dessert flavored chewing gum.

So, that's what has worked for me. 100 days in I consider myself to be completely quit. I've only had one day where I was even tempted to smoke and have only dreamt about smoking once. The doctored pack will remain in my bedside table until January 23, 2012, when it will have been one year.

Today I will celebrate this milestone by visiting the Midtown Buffet (the only Chinese buffet I've ever seen with dumplings included in the spread) and by tasting my first ever slice of blueberry pie!

But first, a seven mile run.

"It's easy to quit smoking. I've done it hundreds of times." -Mark Twain

Maintaining Mileage

In the last month my mileage has really tapered off. I don't know quite what it is, but it's becoming really difficult to get out of bed every morning and put in the work. Before the 15k on March 27 I was averaging about 30 miles per week. I was supplementing my training with a core strengthening video (Jillian Michaels' 6 Week 6 Pack) and I was feeling (and looking) pretty damn awesome!

In the last 4 weeks that has slipped dramatically. I've put about 10 pounds back on, I'm sluggish, my pace is suffering on my training runs, and my legs are aching in places they haven't before. During the month of April I averaged 10 miles per week. That is a disappointing decrease.

This past weekend I ran a fun run for my alumni association, The Big Apple Badgers. We were on the path in Riverside Park and it was a very informal event with about 50 people (which is almost twice the number that turned out last year, so good work Badgers!!). I was feeling weird about the race, I had a nagging pain in my right thigh all week, a tightness in my right ankle and a series of ankle exercises I'd done in class on Friday left the front of my shins tight and painful. Regardless, I lined up and lead the pack as we started through Riverside.

Stretching before the Crazylegs World 5K in Riverside Park. Photo by Lorah Haskins.

I lead by a healthy amount for most of the race. My endurance didn't last. I had to walk. Just before the halfway point the first person to pull ahead of me passed. Shortly after her there was a guy and another girl that pulled in front. At about mile 2.5 another girl passed me and for some reason I was unwilling to accept 5th place. 4th place is fine, there was no way I was going to catch the first three people to pass me, but this girl was not going to beat me. So I picked up the pace, ignored the burning in my shins and barreled through to the finish.

Prior to the race I had set a goal of averaging with a pace of less than 8 minutes per mile. Our course wasn't exactly 5k, it turned out to be about 2.98 miles. I ended up finishing in 23:50, which is a pace of 7:598657 minutes per mile. Just barely attaining my goal by clawing my way back from what had the potential to be a horrible race.

Now I have to claw my way back into the 30 miles per week range after slipping by almost 80 miles last month. I'm optimistic, I'm going to be smart about it and I'm never going to let myself have a 5k be that difficult ever again.

Lesson to be learned from the Crazylegs World 5k: Don't get cocky about your training, keep your mileage up.

"Champions do not become champions when they win the event, but in the hours, weeks, months and years they spend preparing for it. The victorious performance itself is merely the demonstration of their championship character." - T. Alan Armstrong