As I wrote on Sunday, I've had to rejigger my training a bit to stop the excuses and to ensure that I get in the miles both during the week and on my long run days. 'Cause that's pretty much what marathon training is - getting in the miles and making them "good" miles so you get stronger and can go longer.
I'll be honest, it's been hard this time around.
I'm chalking a bit up to age. Definitely my slower time per mile is due to the additional 5 years on this body (not to mention the extra 20lbs and additional child birthed), but that's physical and if there is anything those ladies at anothermotherrunner.com have told and showed me, there are things you can do (speed work anyone?!?) to get back to those 30 something speeds.
Nope, this has been mental.
Don't know really how to describe it, but the best description is: I'm bored. I switch up routes, I throw in some great podcasts (yes, that's me, giggling down the road with Dimity and Sarah and with the WaitWait gang) I've got music that within the first bars, no one, I mean no one, can stop their feet from moving. I meet friends along the route to run with. I even take the most-opinionate dog for part of the run.
I just haven't been able to find my long run mojo.
Anyone else lose this?
Did you find it again?
It's not that I can't do the runs, I'm just not able to start cruising around mile 6 and just let the miles go one by one past me until I either hit that last struggle or cruise the last mile at race pace. I came pretty close during last weeks 15 miler. Maybe it was the fact I was back on Cilley Hill and that I can run that road in my sleep, but it was the first run where I was cruising, body moving, mind at rest or at least paging through the thoughts mindfully.
I'll take that as a good sign. We'll see if I can do it again this week.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Another Mother Runner - that's definitely what I am
When training in 2009, my poor, post-preggers feet fell to pieces under the strain of too much relaxin and too many miles too soon. I was in terrible pain by the end of February and just assumed the worst: a stress fracture. Instead, after a visit to a sports ortho/podiatrist and with the insight of his PT (another new mom!), we diagnosed instead a ligament strain.
The relief!
The joy!
I could still run!
It did though mean about 2-3 weeks of cross training to give that ligament time to heal and to maintain the fitness that I had built up. Now how was that going to work? Something pinged in my head and I dug through two years worth of Runner's Worlds to find the article I was looking for: Dimity McDowell and Sarah Bowen Shea's article about training for the 2007 Nike Women's marathon. Not only were these two inspiration as mother runners, both were taller than me, both were recovering rowers and both spoke that ex-rower language: a mix of supportive, smart, but don't you dare be a wuss smack talk that, well, spoke to me.
Those who know that article also know that Dimity had to cross-train through much of her training for that marathon and I took the plan they laid out and made it mine. I had another month longer to train than Dimity did so I got in my 20 miler, but that plan was what got me back on my feet (stronger, less painful feet!) and to the finish line in my first DFMC in 2009.
Dimity (@Dimityontherun) and Sarah (@SBSontherun) are now the creators and force behind an amazing resource for mother runners, actually any runner, that started with their book: Run Like a Mother and now can also be accessed via their website http://anothermotherrunner.com/ and all of their various social media channels. Both continue to train and inspire with their own stories: Dimity the Ironmother and Sarah the BostonQualifier, but they have also created a tribe of both writers and runners that are proud to put #BAMR on any tweet, post, and instagram.
So it's really with a lot of pride, a few tears, and many many thanks to the #AMRtribe that I'm pretty amazed and happy to say I'm this weeks "AMR Follow this Mother":
http://anothermotherrunner.com/2014/02/12/amr-love-week-follow-mother/
Amazing kudos too to author, Heather Johnson Durocher (@MichRunnerGirl), who handled my crazy emails with total class and produced a beautiful blog post out of them.
Thanks ladies for both unknowingly supporting my 2009 #DFMC and now, going above and beyond for another mother runner for this years #DFMC25
#BAMR forever
The relief!
The joy!
I could still run!
It did though mean about 2-3 weeks of cross training to give that ligament time to heal and to maintain the fitness that I had built up. Now how was that going to work? Something pinged in my head and I dug through two years worth of Runner's Worlds to find the article I was looking for: Dimity McDowell and Sarah Bowen Shea's article about training for the 2007 Nike Women's marathon. Not only were these two inspiration as mother runners, both were taller than me, both were recovering rowers and both spoke that ex-rower language: a mix of supportive, smart, but don't you dare be a wuss smack talk that, well, spoke to me.
Those who know that article also know that Dimity had to cross-train through much of her training for that marathon and I took the plan they laid out and made it mine. I had another month longer to train than Dimity did so I got in my 20 miler, but that plan was what got me back on my feet (stronger, less painful feet!) and to the finish line in my first DFMC in 2009.
Dimity (@Dimityontherun) and Sarah (@SBSontherun) are now the creators and force behind an amazing resource for mother runners, actually any runner, that started with their book: Run Like a Mother and now can also be accessed via their website http://anothermotherrunner.com/ and all of their various social media channels. Both continue to train and inspire with their own stories: Dimity the Ironmother and Sarah the BostonQualifier, but they have also created a tribe of both writers and runners that are proud to put #BAMR on any tweet, post, and instagram.
So it's really with a lot of pride, a few tears, and many many thanks to the #AMRtribe that I'm pretty amazed and happy to say I'm this weeks "AMR Follow this Mother":
http://anothermotherrunner.com/2014/02/12/amr-love-week-follow-mother/
Amazing kudos too to author, Heather Johnson Durocher (@MichRunnerGirl), who handled my crazy emails with total class and produced a beautiful blog post out of them.
Thanks ladies for both unknowingly supporting my 2009 #DFMC and now, going above and beyond for another mother runner for this years #DFMC25
#BAMR forever
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
No more hockey, no more FUN!
Sigh. The worst part about marathon training is the lack of FUN sometimes. 'Cause...
You can't fall down.
You can't tweak your knee, hip, ankle, back....
You can't aggravate old muscles, already tired.
I played hockey on Sun - nothing crazy, just passing the puck to 4-5yos, so they could line themselves up for the goal shot or chase a puck across ice sparkling in February sunshine, but one thing leads to the other and suddenly you're dodging little bodies, back and forth, left and right, and lining yourself up for your own shot. Goal!
Nope, I didn't fall, didn't make a misstep, but I did push the connective tissue on the right side of my left knee just a wee bit too far.
It hurts. It's hurt for 2 days now.
Getting better, for sure, but I'm hesitant about running on it and won't for another day, I think.
And the decision has been made:
I'm going to be BORING until April 22nd.
You can't fall down.
You can't tweak your knee, hip, ankle, back....
You can't aggravate old muscles, already tired.
I played hockey on Sun - nothing crazy, just passing the puck to 4-5yos, so they could line themselves up for the goal shot or chase a puck across ice sparkling in February sunshine, but one thing leads to the other and suddenly you're dodging little bodies, back and forth, left and right, and lining yourself up for your own shot. Goal!
Nope, I didn't fall, didn't make a misstep, but I did push the connective tissue on the right side of my left knee just a wee bit too far.
It hurts. It's hurt for 2 days now.
Getting better, for sure, but I'm hesitant about running on it and won't for another day, I think.
And the decision has been made:
I'm going to be BORING until April 22nd.
Monday, February 10, 2014
February 10th - One year.
Grief sneaks up on you and I have noticed through the years that it often doesn't arrive right at the exact date you expect it, nor in the way you predict it.
So much of this year has been hard, but I think that the times that really hurt were the birthday weeks. 3 weeks of birthdays, 3 little ones turning a year older, all on the same day of the week, starting with the first due date: Julie's. And that day the loss whacked me hard: all the potential, the dreams, the love she had for her amazing little girl. Her joy - "to the moon and back"and how she, all three of us really, grew in so many ways with the births of those individuals and how, like we expected them to, we expected our own lives to keep wonderfully changing.
Changing, but not ending.
And now here it is: one year. Funny, it's stuck right in the middle of the VT winter and you'd think it would be terribly dark, but it's also a time of year when the temps are warming, the days lengthening, and it's snowing a bit more. The anticipation of spring, although a long way off, tinges the cold days and is often my favorite part of the year to get outside.
It's been hard to think about where Julie was during these weeks last year. I, in fact, did not see her for almost two weeks prior to the day I was scheduled to pick up Riley for a Sunday at our house, part of a calendar of care and meals. I knew as soon as Julie got out of the hospital that there would be an outpouring of care and sign ups, but as the weeks went on, then I'd be needed again. I also needed time - the week at the hospital had been hard on everyone - unknowns, turning into knowns, becoming a battleground, then all of us trying to find space for the acceptance, the understanding, that we were going to lose her.
Especially Julie.
You did not make decisions for Julie. You gave her information, which she accepted with care, a smile, and then took it in with loving and thoughtful consideration. I can only imagine she was doing this every second of those last weeks and days.
As she surely was on that last day.
I called and arranged to pick up Riley mid morning. Came into the house, gave hugs to Julie's dad and scooped up Ri in a hug and bustle of questions of what we'd be doing that day. It was in the midst of that conversation when I walked into Julie's room and knew instantly where we were. Holding Julie's hand I chatted with her and Rick, goofed with Ri, and finally as exhaustion quickened her breathing, gave her a kiss, told her I loved her, and headed out to home and a day of typical 3 and 5yo craziness and loveliness.
That afternoon, while my munchkins took their naps, Ri and I read on the couch. Restless, Ri went to the window, looking out on Mt. Mansfield and a forest full of snow. "Kerry, what is that red animal?" I went to the window and there, glorious against the snow, was a beautiful red fox. Our dog, typically ready to defend her yard, didn't move from her bed. And the fox looked us and then gracefully, with strong, purposeful strides, ran up through the woods to disappear into the trees. "That was beautiful" we both sighed.
And then the phone rang a half hour later.
I often joke with friends who knew her well that Jules planned that day perfectly, but I honestly believe it too, as I believe that her spirit and love lives through all of us still. Perhaps too, it lived a bit in that fox, on that bright, bluebird, February day, saying goodbye, but also showing us a path we could live by too.
Be loved. Be love. She is safe.
So much of this year has been hard, but I think that the times that really hurt were the birthday weeks. 3 weeks of birthdays, 3 little ones turning a year older, all on the same day of the week, starting with the first due date: Julie's. And that day the loss whacked me hard: all the potential, the dreams, the love she had for her amazing little girl. Her joy - "to the moon and back"and how she, all three of us really, grew in so many ways with the births of those individuals and how, like we expected them to, we expected our own lives to keep wonderfully changing.
Changing, but not ending.
And now here it is: one year. Funny, it's stuck right in the middle of the VT winter and you'd think it would be terribly dark, but it's also a time of year when the temps are warming, the days lengthening, and it's snowing a bit more. The anticipation of spring, although a long way off, tinges the cold days and is often my favorite part of the year to get outside.
It's been hard to think about where Julie was during these weeks last year. I, in fact, did not see her for almost two weeks prior to the day I was scheduled to pick up Riley for a Sunday at our house, part of a calendar of care and meals. I knew as soon as Julie got out of the hospital that there would be an outpouring of care and sign ups, but as the weeks went on, then I'd be needed again. I also needed time - the week at the hospital had been hard on everyone - unknowns, turning into knowns, becoming a battleground, then all of us trying to find space for the acceptance, the understanding, that we were going to lose her.
Especially Julie.
You did not make decisions for Julie. You gave her information, which she accepted with care, a smile, and then took it in with loving and thoughtful consideration. I can only imagine she was doing this every second of those last weeks and days.
As she surely was on that last day.
I called and arranged to pick up Riley mid morning. Came into the house, gave hugs to Julie's dad and scooped up Ri in a hug and bustle of questions of what we'd be doing that day. It was in the midst of that conversation when I walked into Julie's room and knew instantly where we were. Holding Julie's hand I chatted with her and Rick, goofed with Ri, and finally as exhaustion quickened her breathing, gave her a kiss, told her I loved her, and headed out to home and a day of typical 3 and 5yo craziness and loveliness.
That afternoon, while my munchkins took their naps, Ri and I read on the couch. Restless, Ri went to the window, looking out on Mt. Mansfield and a forest full of snow. "Kerry, what is that red animal?" I went to the window and there, glorious against the snow, was a beautiful red fox. Our dog, typically ready to defend her yard, didn't move from her bed. And the fox looked us and then gracefully, with strong, purposeful strides, ran up through the woods to disappear into the trees. "That was beautiful" we both sighed.
And then the phone rang a half hour later.
I often joke with friends who knew her well that Jules planned that day perfectly, but I honestly believe it too, as I believe that her spirit and love lives through all of us still. Perhaps too, it lived a bit in that fox, on that bright, bluebird, February day, saying goodbye, but also showing us a path we could live by too.
Be loved. Be love. She is safe.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Getting myself out the door
As a working parent, my life can get a bit time constrained. Add that to the fact that I HATE BEING LATE, I've got a nice set up for brilliant excuses for not running or getting to a yoga class or doing my core workout, especially during the week.
I've also got a nice set up for getting hurt again.
One of the great pieces of advice from Jack Fulz in our #DFMC25 training guide was to sit down with our plan each week or so and really look at what was working and what wasn't and adjust accordingly. So after realizing my long runs for the last two weeks were longer than the total mileage for the rest of the week and that my hip wasn't ever "feeling better" it was time to revisit and refocus things.
First goal: return to getting 4 "run" workouts in a week.
One thing I have found this year is that the first run of my week after the long run on the weekend is one that I avoid doing on the road, so I've made it officially an inside workout: 5-6 miles on the elliptical and preferably in the morning. Get her done! Those following me on Twitter know this week the am workout did not happen, then the run didn't happen, but the workout still happened, just at 8pm. Never again. Morning it will be.
Second goal: yoga, yoga, yoga. I am not a weightlifter, hate doing my core, detest the "pre-rehab" that I know I should be doing, but get me into a yoga class and I feel like all of that is taken care of, along with my mind too. Finding classes though, that didn't again require me to arrange for kid care or a crazed morning routine was getting hard at my favorite studios, so I bit the bullet and bought the semester fitness card so I could catch classes at work. Even so, it's SOOOO hard for me to kick myself out of the office mid-day even for something I know will make both my body feel better and likely get my head back into gear for a good afternoon's work. I have 3 classes identified: made one this week. A step in the right direction, but 2-3 classes would be even better….and allow this old lady's poor bones and tendons to survive the miles.
Last, but not least, I've finally admitted that swimming in the winter time is just not my thing. Yes, it's indoors, but I was just not getting to the pool. Ever. So trying a few other things to fill in 2 out of the 3 "non-running" days. This week - skating w/a little hockey moves thrown in today and earlier this week: biking and…drumroll please…10 minutes on the erg! A first for me in over 2 years of dealing with this SI joint misplacement. Will start inching that up over the next few weeks…in hopes that rowgirl will start rowing again, when this #DFMC25 adventure is over.
So 7 "workouts" this week, rather than 4, a body that has recovered better than past weeks, no sore hip, and seems to be ready for next week, rather than dreading it. I think the re-haul might have made some good changes worth keeping.
Now, if I could only get my taxes done. :-)
I've also got a nice set up for getting hurt again.
One of the great pieces of advice from Jack Fulz in our #DFMC25 training guide was to sit down with our plan each week or so and really look at what was working and what wasn't and adjust accordingly. So after realizing my long runs for the last two weeks were longer than the total mileage for the rest of the week and that my hip wasn't ever "feeling better" it was time to revisit and refocus things.
First goal: return to getting 4 "run" workouts in a week.
One thing I have found this year is that the first run of my week after the long run on the weekend is one that I avoid doing on the road, so I've made it officially an inside workout: 5-6 miles on the elliptical and preferably in the morning. Get her done! Those following me on Twitter know this week the am workout did not happen, then the run didn't happen, but the workout still happened, just at 8pm. Never again. Morning it will be.
Second goal: yoga, yoga, yoga. I am not a weightlifter, hate doing my core, detest the "pre-rehab" that I know I should be doing, but get me into a yoga class and I feel like all of that is taken care of, along with my mind too. Finding classes though, that didn't again require me to arrange for kid care or a crazed morning routine was getting hard at my favorite studios, so I bit the bullet and bought the semester fitness card so I could catch classes at work. Even so, it's SOOOO hard for me to kick myself out of the office mid-day even for something I know will make both my body feel better and likely get my head back into gear for a good afternoon's work. I have 3 classes identified: made one this week. A step in the right direction, but 2-3 classes would be even better….and allow this old lady's poor bones and tendons to survive the miles.
Last, but not least, I've finally admitted that swimming in the winter time is just not my thing. Yes, it's indoors, but I was just not getting to the pool. Ever. So trying a few other things to fill in 2 out of the 3 "non-running" days. This week - skating w/a little hockey moves thrown in today and earlier this week: biking and…drumroll please…10 minutes on the erg! A first for me in over 2 years of dealing with this SI joint misplacement. Will start inching that up over the next few weeks…in hopes that rowgirl will start rowing again, when this #DFMC25 adventure is over.
So 7 "workouts" this week, rather than 4, a body that has recovered better than past weeks, no sore hip, and seems to be ready for next week, rather than dreading it. I think the re-haul might have made some good changes worth keeping.
Now, if I could only get my taxes done. :-)
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Why is the DFMC funding so critical?
Last night I got together with a group of Vermont healthcare innovators and it came out that I was training for the DFMC and running the Boston marathon in April. Per usual, folks were pretty excited and supportive, but since this was a group of Vermont innovators, the questions arose: what's the DFMC and what does it fund that's worth running all winter for?
Happily I had an answer that this group understood fully: it's one of the few funding sources that funds initial new experiments in cancer therapeutics or diagnostics. It fills a funding gap that allows a "crazy" idea get traction, get data, and then proceed along the bumpy, long path of drug or diagnostic development.
Now, plenty of folks, I'm sure, hear about that "drug development" path, but unless you are a part of it, I don't think people really understand what it means. Two great resources explaining it, came my way this year and if you have the time, take a look.
The first is not about a cancer drug, but does nicely describe how a set of pre-clinical compounds (yes, haven't even gotten into humans yet) went from an initial basic science discovery of a potential target to finally get in the hands of the clinical trials folks at a large pharma company.
http://cen.acs.org/content/dam/cen/92/3/09203-bus2.pdf
The second is a Thompson Reuters ad for its research and IP databases and how those help guide the folks involved at each step in the drug development pathway for a cancer drug. Yes, an ad, but it really does a good job of showing the numerous steps and work it takes to get from "discovery" to drug.
http://www.innovationexcellence.com/blog/2013/09/22/video-highlights-the-innovation-lifecycle/
So there you have it.
Now remember that nothing gets into those pathways without enabling those with the initial idea to do those first experiments, gather the first data, see the first results. As the DFMC site says:
"The Barr Program exemplifies the power of philanthropy in propelling completely new lines of research. It plays a pivotal role in the development of early-career scientists who work on a broad range of research investigations in order to yield new clues about cancer. It is also critical for conducting basic research, which is not eligible for federal fundraising until well along in proof of principle. The program enables leading-edge, highly-innovative research up to the point that it may be possible to attract government or private support, allowing Barr Investigators to bring promising studies forward and make major scientific breakthroughs."
This is why I run.
Thanks for any support you can give.
rundfmc.org/2014/rowgirlgoesrunning
Happily I had an answer that this group understood fully: it's one of the few funding sources that funds initial new experiments in cancer therapeutics or diagnostics. It fills a funding gap that allows a "crazy" idea get traction, get data, and then proceed along the bumpy, long path of drug or diagnostic development.
Now, plenty of folks, I'm sure, hear about that "drug development" path, but unless you are a part of it, I don't think people really understand what it means. Two great resources explaining it, came my way this year and if you have the time, take a look.
The first is not about a cancer drug, but does nicely describe how a set of pre-clinical compounds (yes, haven't even gotten into humans yet) went from an initial basic science discovery of a potential target to finally get in the hands of the clinical trials folks at a large pharma company.
http://cen.acs.org/content/dam/cen/92/3/09203-bus2.pdf
The second is a Thompson Reuters ad for its research and IP databases and how those help guide the folks involved at each step in the drug development pathway for a cancer drug. Yes, an ad, but it really does a good job of showing the numerous steps and work it takes to get from "discovery" to drug.
http://www.innovationexcellence.com/blog/2013/09/22/video-highlights-the-innovation-lifecycle/
So there you have it.
Now remember that nothing gets into those pathways without enabling those with the initial idea to do those first experiments, gather the first data, see the first results. As the DFMC site says:
"The Barr Program exemplifies the power of philanthropy in propelling completely new lines of research. It plays a pivotal role in the development of early-career scientists who work on a broad range of research investigations in order to yield new clues about cancer. It is also critical for conducting basic research, which is not eligible for federal fundraising until well along in proof of principle. The program enables leading-edge, highly-innovative research up to the point that it may be possible to attract government or private support, allowing Barr Investigators to bring promising studies forward and make major scientific breakthroughs."
This is why I run.
Thanks for any support you can give.
rundfmc.org/2014/rowgirlgoesrunning
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