Olympic Trials Preview: Danielle Quatrochi
Danielle shows the Boston Marathon course a thing or two about badass mother runners.
Taking it to the last minute but doing it perfectly–as most mothers are capable of doing–Danielle Quatrochi, a mother of two girls and two pugs, qualified for the Olympic Trials at the California International Marathon (CIM) in early December with a 2:44: 56. The digital marketer, a 35-year-old who lives in Boulder, Colorado, will be heading to the Trials for the first time on Saturday.
Sadly, this concludes our profiles of five mother runners who will be out there among 2oo women in Houston; we’ll be back to regularly scheduled programing next week. But remember that NBC is airing the Trials from 3-5 EST on Saturday, January 14 (a.k.a. “tomorrow”), so tune in if you can. (Maybe they can nicely coincide with naptime or Dad-take-’em-to-the-zoo-time?)
What pressure? Surprisingly, I felt pretty relaxed at the start of CIM. I was confident in my training and believed I was capable of the time I needed, so I just trusted that and let it happen. This was the first time I’ve qualified for the Olympic Trials. I’ve come close in previous years, including a 2:46:36 at the U.S. Marathon Championships in 2009, but CIM seemed to provide everything I needed to have a great race. You never know how your body and mind will react to 26.2 miles, so when it goes right you appreciate it that much more.
A DQ week: I don’t have time on my schedule to lift weights or do double runs, so I focus on what works for me. My body responds so much better when I feel light on my feet, so I do my best to balance hard training without overtraining. My typical week is:
Monday – swim 3,000 meters in the morning. No running.
Tuesday – a long tempo or fartlek run, with some repeat 200’s or 400s to keep my turnover quick.
Wednesday – easy 60-75 minutes.
Thursday – easy 60-75 minutes and a yoga class in the afternoon.
Friday – hard workout like 30-45 minutes at race pace and 6 x 1 mile at 10K pace or faster.
Saturday – easy 60-75 minutes.
Sunday – long 16-22 miles.
Hanging a U-Turn: Between CIM and the Trials, I took one week off, ran easy for a week, and did a couple typical training weeks to remind my body to run fast again. I like the idea of a quick turnaround; I’ve never done it before, so it’s a fun new challenge for me.
Danielle chilling with her adorable fam.
Lucky legs: My lucky shorts are black Nike boy-cut shorts. I have a few pair in different sizes. On race day I wear my extra-small pair because they don’t move around. At CIM, I put on my larger pair without realizing it until I took off my warm-ups. You would think I would have paid more attention that morning, but that’s how relaxed I felt about the race. I don’t really have any other pre-race rituals besides drinking coffee and telling myself it’s game day; it’s something my husband says, and it fires me up.
Owning the runner she wanted to be: In college, I had a lot of stress fractures. They were always in the strangest places, like the back of my right tibia, so it was a tough thing to figure out. Often it was blamed on poor nutrition or overtraining, but deep down I knew myself better than anyone and giving up just wasn’t an option for me. Once I let go of the need to feel accepted by a coaching staff, everything started to fall into place. I like to remind myself that people don’t define you, you define yourself. Plus, it helps have a support system to keep you going; my current team includes Sherman Performance , Boulder Running Company, and First Endurance.
Living in the moment: I focus on what’s in front of me, not the collective. When I’m home I focus on my family, when I’m at work I focus on doing a good job, and when I’m running I focus on getting the most out of my workout. I’ve been fortunate that my kids are good sleepers, but when they have rough nights, I’ll be flexible with my schedule so I don’t get injured. When they take a nap on the weekend, I make sure I take one, too. There’s a lot to do, but sometimes it can just wait.
Goal for the Trials: I feel good, so I’m hoping for a good performance.
Olympic Trials Preview: Susan Loken
Susan Loken blazing through the 2008 Trials.
Heading into her third Olympic Trials is the amazing Susan Loken, a 48-year-old mother of five and grandmother (!) of one. I feel a little kinship with her because her hamstring isn’t cooperating either these days. She’s been super smart about training so that she can cross the finish line in Houston. “It such an honor to participate and such an accomplishment to make to the Trials,” she says, “Life is about experiences and running with all the fastest women in the USA is an experience not to be missed!” Susan, who leads training runs and coaches around her home of Tempe, Arizona, qualified with a 2:44:43 at the 2010 Twin Cities Marathon, where she also won the USA Master’s Marathon Championship.
Hamstrung: Back in September when I was training for the 2011 USA Master’s Marathon Championship at the Twin Cities Marathon, my left hamstring started to become a big problem. The Sunday before Twin Cities I went out for my last taper long run and realized I couldn’t run at the level needed to be competitive and wasn’t sure I could even finish the marathon with the pain I was experiencing. I made the difficult decision to pull out of the race.
I started working with Dr. John Ball to heal my hamstring so I could train for the Olympic Trials. The first MRI came back as an 80% tear. When he told me this, the tears just started to flow. I knew if this were the case, running in my third Trials would not happen. Worse than that, it could end my running career. Running is my lifestyle and to have that taken away would be a big heartbreak.
Fortunately, my symptoms did not match up with the initial diagnosis. He had my MRI read again and this radiologist concluded I had tendinosis. I’ve dealt with this nagging injury before; it’s not a career ender, but it can take months to get under control.
My goal became to run minimally, cross-train to maintain my fitness, keep my hamstring from getting worse, and finish the Trials. After Saturday I will do whatever it takes to heal it.
Susan: the matriarch in a family of 3 sons, 1 step-son, 1 step-daughter, and 1 daughter-in-law.
Seven letters in her mantra–and success: Believe is the one word that I try to live my life by.
Believe in myself.
Believe in my training.
Believe that all challenges have a purpose, benefit or lesson.
Believe that obstacles make me stronger.
Believe that tough competition makes me faster, stronger and better.
Believe that tough miles during a marathon will happen and I will make it.
Believe that my thoughts create my outcome so keep my thoughts positive.
Believe that my life is God’s plan, not mine.
{Ed. note: One guess as to what word is tattooed on her foot.}
Susan, making lemonade out of yellow ElliptiGO.
On the go: Six weeks ago I was introduced to cross-training on the ElliptiGO, an elliptical bike you ride outside. One of the reasons I love to run is the glory of being outside with the wind at my face, working out my body, soul and mind at the same time. When I’m injured, I miss that terribly. After a session on the ElliptiGO, I always come back feeling more positive and optimistic about my fitness.
Pre-race ritual: After an early dinner of pasta, chicken, a roll, salad and water, I go back to my hotel room, set out race day items and pack my after race bag. Put on my snuggly PJ’s and then I jump into bed with a bag of plain M&M’s and watch an inspirational movie that get me into the believe mindset. A few of my faves are The Fighter; Rudy; Spirit of the Marathon; Cinderella Man; Remember the Titans; The Blind Side; and Soul Surfer.
Brief time out: If I have a bad race I allow myself 30 minutes to feel the disappointment. Then I begin listing in my mind the lessons learned and all the blessings in my life, and I move on.
She can (some advice): We can all find excuses why we can’t do something; that’s easy. Stop wasting energy on why you can’t and spend all your energy on ways you can. For example: I can stay in shape for the Trials by cross-training, sticking to my treatment plan, eating a balanced diet and setting a realistic goal for my situation. Nope, not always easy to do, but necessary for success.
And she gets to (a little more advice): Live by the words I get to, instead of I have to. I get to run! I get to meet my friends and do speed work! {Ed note: I would change her ! to a . and keep most of the get-to spirit, but that’s me.} I get to eat healthy meals and drink plenty of water. I get to wake up before all my family and start my day with a positive run. I get to become everything I ever wanted. I get to go to bed early so I can wake up and complete a run that will get me one step closer to my goal.
Oh, and one granddaughter.
Goals for the Trials: I set three goals for every marathon.
The first one is a dream goal: the weather is sunny, the wind is at my back, I feel amazing.
Second one is a realistic goal: based on my training, training races, and the normal marathon challenges, I will be able to accomplish this with hard work.
The third one is a suck-it-up-and-finish goal: nothing seems to go according to plan and the day is just off, but I will finish.
So for the Trials:
Dream Goal: Sub-2:50 and I finish without my hamstring getting worse and enjoy the journey.
Realistic Goal: 2:58. I will give it everything I have, I won’t back down and I will be a three-time Olympic Trials finisher.
Suck-it-up-and-finish Goal: Need I say more? I will accept my medal with a huge smile on my face and be very happy!
p.s. I always start a race aiming for my realistic goal; if by the halfway point, I’m rocking, I kick it into to a higher gear and aim for the dream goal. The suck-it-up-and-finish goal is there because the marathon must be respected and a challenging day can happen to anyone.
Intern Gets Bit By the Cold
OK so maybe a bit of a dramatization for Portland weather, but rough nonetheless!
Intern Jessie here: If you asked me a few months ago where I’d be right now, I would have pointed to the day on my training plan, filled with blissful pride and unwavering certainty. Little did I know I’d get tripped up by something I didn’t see coming.
Having grown up in California, you might say I have an aversion to cold temperatures. So during November and December, I did my best to avoid winter temps. Sure, I was ignoring the fact it might be 20 or 30 degrees at the mid-January starting line, with wind and rain thrown in for fun. I knew I’d have to brave the weather eventually, but why start now? Instead, I became accustomed to midday 40- or 50-degree runs, sometimes even with the sun shining down on me.
I had caught a break: As in so many other regions, Portland’s winter started out abnormally warm. Then the inevitable happened, and I had to do my training run in 33-degree temps. My running tights were ready, along with the other winter running clothes I bought in anticipation of cold runs. I didn’t realize they couldn’t offer me the protection I really needed.
I headed out the door like any other run, but a half-mile in to my planned six-miler, I realized I wasn’t getting in much air. I slowed down and focused on my breathing, but that didn’t help. By this stage of my training, I wasn’t bringing my inhaler with me on runs—big mistake. People had asked whether cold air was a problem with my asthma, but I’d thought it wasn’t. Now, as I stood gasping by the side of the road, I realized I hadn’t put the theory up for a test. Anxiety set in, and I had to kneel down on the sidewalk, calm myself, and focus on getting air.
Finally, I walked back home, dizzy with oxygen deprivation and fear. It took me a while to work up the nerve to try running in the cold again, but it ended the same miserable way.
This wrench in my training makes it so I won’t be running the Cascade Half Marathon as planned. While I’ve been home in San Jose for the last few weeks enjoying sunny, moderate-temps runs, I know once I get back to Portland, it will be treadmills or nothing until the temperatures climb to where my lungs can handle it.
Though I’m sad asthma got the better of my winter racing plans, it’s most definitely not getting in my way of a 13.1 in warmer weather. Stay tuned this spring or summer.
A Sneak Peek at Miles & Trials
“Miles & Trials: Running Towards 2012” Trailer (LP) from WendyCity Productions on Vimeo.
I’m a huge fan of documentaries and basically wet my pants over documentaries about running, so when I came across the trailer for “Miles & Trials: Running Towards 2012”, a story about super-fast women, I couldn’t wait to track it down. But the film isn’t finished yet. For good reason: some of the women have qualified for the 2012 Olympic Marathon Trials, which are happening in Houston next weekend, so there’s no ending yet; and Wendy Shulik, the one- woman editor/producer/storyteller, has a few more miles to go before the movie is done. (To qualify for the Trials, you have to run a blazing sub-2 hour, 46-minute marathon. Yep.)
I spoke to Wendy this week as she prepares for her final race shoot next weekend.
How did this project begin?
I’ve been a recreational runner since I was 15, and became passionate about following women’s running when Joan Benoit Samuelson won Olympic gold in the first women’s marathon in 1984. I eventually moved from Los Angeles to Chicago, where I live two miles from the starting line of the Chicago Marathon. I signed up for the 2008 Banco Popular Chicago Half-Marathon, and ran with my camera. I had just bought a little Canon PowerShot and was obsessed with it; I would interview everyone I knew, even the mailman.
Anyway, it was raining before the start and I had given a trash bag to this lean, young woman to stay dry. Her name was Alona Banai; I had no idea who she was but she looked fast, so I conducted a short interview with her before the race. At the turn around, she was in second place and I stopped running to film her and cheer her on. I realized then that there were a ton of fast women in Chicago—and the idea for my film took root.
Wendy, center, Alona, lower left, and Christina Overbeck, lower right: the start of something great.
After being laid off from my job as an executive assistant in 2010 and without many job prospects, I realized it would be a good time to see what I could do. I took my severance, bought a MacBook Pro and Final Cut Pro editing software and posted a message on Facebook asking if there were any Chicago women who were trying to qualify for the Olympic Trials, and was overwhelmed with responses.
Are you still following the same women?
A couple I started with dropped out; now, I’ve got six women that I’ve covered basically over two years. Unfortunately, only one of the six—Christina Overbeck —made the 2:46 qualifying standard, but that’s not really the story. The theme is the power of running, of loving something so much you can’t not do it, of women from all over the country having the same dream and giving everything they have simply to get to the Trials. Only three women will make the Olympic team, and more than 200 are running it, so the underlying story is also about setting a goal and having a dream.
Suzanne Ryan, a mom of four, brings new meaning to the word Wonder Woman. (Photo from Daily Herald.)
One of your runners, Suzanne Ryan, is a mom of four. How did her story shake out?
She had an amazing summer: She set PRs in every distance she raced, including a 1:19:50 in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Chicago Half Marathon, which put her on pace to easily come in under the 2:46 standard in the full marathon. But during a 5K, she felt something pop in her calf and she never fully recovered. Her last shot to qualify for the Trials was at the California International Marathon (CIM) in early December. She was running with a pack of women who were on pace to qualify, but dropped off pace at around Mile 20. She still finished in an incredibly impressive 2:50:06.
The race was amazing, though. 25 women qualified, and they stood at the finish line cheering each other on and laughing and crying: It was a great scene. So glad I caught it.
You’ve shot at CIM, Grandma’s Marathon, Houston for the USA Half- Marathon Championships, the Cleveland Marathon, and Chicago Marathon. How are you funding this all?
On a shoestring budget. I haven’t done the math, but I think I’ve raised between $10,000 and $15,000, and I’m immensely grateful. Some people have donated their frequent flier miles so I could travel to races, others have donated regularly. One man donated $26.20 from each of his paychecks.
Once I get all the footage in the can, I’m going to need another $25,000 to get it completed. I have knowledge and tenacity, but I need to hire somebody to help me.
How has being around the women’s racing scene for over two years impacted your own running?
Well, producing the film, shooting freelance videos for local running companies, plus searching for a job has taken over my life. I don’t have kids—and bow down to the women who do: It seems like the more they have to do, the more they manage to get done. They can run 90 miles a week, and I can barely find the time to get my laundry done.
I started having back problems after the half-marathon in Chicago—turns out I have a herniated disc—and have just started running again. So I’m back to square one, which means doing a run/walk combo. It’s hard to stomach, but it’s worth it. As I’ve learned again and again through this experience and following these women, running isn’t just a physical thing. It’s emotionally, mentally, and spiritually fulfilling, as is my passion for telling these athletes’ stories.
If I knew what I was getting into back in 2009, I’m not sure I would’ve done it. But I’m immensely honored and privileged to tell these stories, and hopefully inspire a few people along the way.
If you would like to help Wendy get her film completed, please consider donating to her Film Fund; click on the red donate button in the lower left hand corner on this page.
Tell Me Tuesday: When Illness Strikes while Training
If you look like this while reading this post, 1. No running for you; 2. Consider a cordless phone, retro-mama!
I’ll admit: I sometimes struggle to find a topic to write about for this column. But—wait, pardon me while I blow my nose for the, oh, 177th time in the past three hours—I didn’t have that problem today. As I go on two weeks of being sick (a cold that morphed into a nasty sinus infection complete with a fever), the answer was clear: how to deal with being sick while training for a race. An innocent stuffy nose made its debut 10 days into my Boston Marathon prep. (I’m using a training plan from the upcoming Train Like a Mother. Something tells me I’ll be blogging a bit more about it in the upcoming months….) In typical mom-fashion, I blew my nose, ignored the post-nasal-drip sore throat, wrapped some presents, and soldiered on.
It wasn’t until five days later, when my friend/running buddy Molly commented, “you sound really sick,” did I pause to give my sneezing and sniffling any real consideration. Yet it wasn’t until my head felt ready to explode like an angry blood blister did I call the doctor. A 101-degree fever that afternoon confirmed it: sinus infection. Doc hooked me up with antibiotics, and I mentally urged them to work their magic quickly.
The following day was already a rest day, so that did away with any debate. But the day after that (last Friday), I was signed up for boot camp, which meant I’d already ponied up the dough for it. I went to bed feeling significantly better, with my gym shorts, tank top, and cross-training sneaks laid out. But when I got up to pee in the middle of the night, I heard the voice of reason (a.k.a. my wise running buddy Ellison, a two-time vet of Boston) in my head. She “reminded” me that running needed to be my focus these next few months; to be strong enough to take on the prescribed 15-mile run on Saturday, I needed to skip Friday boot camp. So I switched off my alarm, letting myself sleep in later than I have in nearly a decade. (Wow, what a coincidence: Our older daughter turns 10 next week!)
Let me stop blathering my saga now, and turn to some tips for other sickies. (And given a mom’s exposure to germs, we all know it’s just a matter of time until your number is called….)
-If all your symptoms are above your neck, such as a runny nose, sore throat, and perhaps a cough, you can still exercise if you feel like it. Think of it as a Blowing Snot Rockets 101 session. (I ran a fine-enough 14 miles on Day 4 of my recent malady.)
-If your symptoms exist lower down, chest congestion or an uneasy GI, for instance, or you have a fever, no exercising until you feel better.
-If you have to take an antibiotic, tell your doc you’re a runner training for a race. I’m going to admit: Dimity imparts this tidbit of wisdom in Train Like a Mother, yet I forgot it when I was at my M.D.’s office. Turns out some antibiotics can leave a runner more vulnerable to tendon problems.
I picked up this image from the web: You don’t want to view my used tissues. Trust me on this one.
-A question we get a lot on our Facebook page is where to pick up a training plan if a runner misses days due to illness. If you’re out for a few days with something simple, resume on the current day. (As in, if you are sick Tuesday through Thursday, do Friday’s workout on Friday.) Do not, I repeat N-O-T, try to make up lost miles, as you might push yourself deeper into illness. You can re-jigger the days on your training plan—maybe do a modified long run on Sunday instead of Saturday to give yourself an extra day to recoup. (Real life example: This past weekend, the plan called for running 15 miles with middle 5 at race pace. I did the 15, but left my Garmin at home. Pace be damned, no pushing it for me. I also carried my iPhone with me in case I needed to bail midway.)
-If your illness forces you to miss a week or more of running, re-evaluate your race. If the race is a long ways off, your course can right itself. But if you’re six or four weeks away, you might need to re-think running the event. It depends on what your goal is: If crossing the finish line with a smile is your aim, then you’re probably fine. But missing a week or more of prime PR training can be tough to recoup from, and you might want to choose another race.
-Expect it to take at least a few days, maybe even a week or 10 days, before you feel like your old self. Which means I’m letting myself off the hook for this morning’s tempo pace being about 30 seconds slower than usual.
What do you do when you get sick while training for a race?
A Year in the Life of a Runner
A reminder we all need around our necks as we make tracks into 2012. {From mbartstudios on etsy.}
It’s Sunday night, I’m eating a bowl of Edy’s Grant Light Peppermint Ice Cream (I would eat it year-round if they’d make it year-around) and am thinking about my running year. Except that I’m still not running. I won’t dwell on my hamstring issues now because I’m going to see another physical therapist in a few days, so I’ll be sure to string out every last detail in an upcoming post. (I know, I know: Mark your calendars.)
Still, it’s exciting to think of the 364 days ahead and the possibilities they bring with regard to running. Despite my being on the injured reserve list right now, I’ve been running long enough to know that each running year brings certain expected events, rhythms, and cycles regardless of how talented, slow, experienced, or novice you are.
And so, in honor of 2012, here are 12 things you can expect to experience this year if you’re a runner:
- Bursts of motivation. Some peaks will be super sharp and last for a day, max, and others will be more mesa-like and stretch for months, if you’re lucky. These bursts are most commonly found immediately after you sign up for a race and during the summer months.
- A total lack of ambition. Like the go-get-’em streaks, these jags can be brief or prolonged, but they are definitely to be expected, so don’t sweat it. Look for them in the middle of a training plan–the longer the plan, the more likely they are to appear–or when the temps drop and days get shorter. When they hit, use my four-word motto: Don’t think, just go.
- Fixation on food, or specifically, at least one run during which you can’t stop thinking about the leftover pepperoni pizza or other greasy goodness you’re going to devour post-run because you’re working so hard and running so well. You go to reward yourself only to find your significant other and/or child(ren) has already done the honors. (Totally cool if you’re totally pissed for the rest of the day, btw, especially if the consumer was your non-running partner.)
- An injury. The stats vary, but the reality is this: If you are a runner, you will get injured at some point. What separates the chronically injured from the briefly injured is the ability to stop, assess the situation, and realize that running ________________ (to the end of today’s run, across the finish line in three weeks, through the five races you have scheduled) will not make your injured part better. Historically, I have not been good at stopping, but am definitely getting better. Last time I checked, running through running injuries doesn’t make them go away.
- At least one run a month during which you see the sun rise, the sun set, a deer or rabbit or another other non-vicious animal hopping along, a rainbow, or something other gift from Ma N. and you think to yourself, “How lucky am I to be out here to see this.”
Believe in yourself, and believe in the run.
- A race during which your performance was so spectacularly awful for you, you can’t believe you spent your valuable time and money training for this stupid race and ridiculous sport.
- A race during which your performance was so sublimely perfect for you, you can’t believe the organizers didn’t hang a gold medal around your neck as you crossed the finish line.
- A spat of jealousy toward runners who can go faster than you can (with seemingly less effort and training); toward runners who just gave birth to a kid and go faster than you can (with seemingly less effort and training); toward runners who just make it look so freakin’ easy.
- A reality check, when you realize that all those faster runners still struggle with the same issues–pushing through the pain, getting out the door, silencing the mental monkeys, doubting they can cover the course the way they want to–that you do. (Seriously, they do: I’m not just saying that to make this a neat bullet-pointed pair. And yes, I realize I’m speaking for them since I am not among the fast set.)
- Several spats of jealousy that arise from seeing really cute running clothes on fellow runners. The only way to balance out this situation is to run your credit card.
- Several cases of the should-I-tries? Should I try these new shoes? Barefoot running? Speedwork? Compression sleeves when I run? A marathon? Eating gummi bears instead of GU on a long run? I’m all for variety, but–here comes the mom in me–take anything new slower than you’d like. Go half bears/half GU on your first trial with the boys; go 1/4 mile in your bare feet; go three-quarters speed the first time you hit the track. Being patient means you can always come back for more.
- At least one run a week that is good enough to get you through the rest of your tantrum-squelching, powerpoint-giving, lunch-making, to-do-list-writing, leg-shaving (as if!), laundry-folding, brainstorming-sessioning, badass-mothering day without feeling frustrated, lonely, bitchy, or resentful.
And that sole run, as we all know, is worth all the so-so runs we have to endure to get there.
I know there are more than twelve reasons, but my ice cream is long gone. What kind of universal events show up in your running years?