July 2012

Sage (Rountree) Advice about Yoga

Sarah and Dimity get their “om” on with noted yogini and triathlon coach Sage Rountree, author of “The Athlete’s Guide to Yoga.” The gals discuss the best type of yoga for runners (you Type A’s might not like the answer), and they touch on the hot button issue of hot yoga. Sage shares easy, post-run stretches that’ll open your hips and release your lower back (oh, yeah, right there!). And Sarah feels a release: Sage gives her permission to stop fretting about her tight hips and hamstrings.

[audio:http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/podcasts.pagatim.fm/shows/amr_071212_101727811.mp3]

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Why I Run: Annet Maurer

Thanks to running, Annet has lost 20 pounds this year.

Catch her blog here.

I have a knack for languages. I started life in Holland, so spoke Dutch as a young child. Then my family immigrated to Canada so I became bilingual for many years with English, though we spoke less Dutch as the years went on. In Canada, French is a mandatory subject throughout grade school and while the biggest emphasis was on grammar (anyone remember why we had to remember the name “Mrs. Vandertramp”?), I certainly knew enough francais to be conversant, read, and write. Then, in high school, I studied German, was an exchange student to Germany, and became fully fluent.

After high school, I took a “gap year” and worked in Switzerland, so I learned Swiss-German–the same basic language, but a whole new way of speaking. I even picked up some Spanish from the kitchen staff and Amharic while hanging with my sister in Ethiopia for three months.  And immigrating to Australia felt like that in the beginning: I’m sure the people were speaking English, but sometimes it didn’t sound that way! I still speak many of these languages, though some have become intermixed over time and lack of usage.

Now, I think running is like learning a new language. In order to learn a language, you have to start at the beginning, when every word is hard work, and practice it. You also have to surround yourself with others who know the language, or it makes it even more difficult to learn. You have to try to not compare yourself to those who speak the language fluently: They, too, had to learn it–some from a very young age, while others are newcomers to it but have a real knack for this language. Then there are all the specific language terms (splits, pace, BQ, intervals, etc).

At this point, I’ve been stuck in the Running 101 class for well over a year. I keep dropping out, or only going intermittently, so I’m not getting as adept as others are who attend class multiple times a week.

Annet with her husband and their son David, whose congenital heart defect “is part of what makes me want to be a fitter person, to model healthy behavior for him.”

I’ve got other challenges in life right now, which lead to handy excuses not to get out there—an upcoming big move back to Canada, full-time work and trying to sell a house, while dealing with the normal stuff of life, marriage, and child.

Plus, I’ve got very few non-virtual friends here to share my language with, so I don’t push myself enough, pick up my dictionary enough, or get enough practice at this language.

But I persevere at it. If nothing else, I’m a stubborn Taurus, and if I want to continue to call myself a runner, I need to keep speaking that language. My body likes it when I do; my brain doesn’t need to think too hard about it; and I want to get fluent. So I read a lot of running blogs; I blog myself to keep accountable and to see my progress; I track of my kilometers at dailymile; and I’m slowly losing weight and getting fitter.

Running is definitely not a language that is coming easily to me. I know I’m often not putting enough effort into it, but I want to keep at it and speak it for years to come. I want to be fluent.

Why I Run: Melinda Kunz

Melinda and her husband, “my favorite running partner.”

Melinda Kunz is running her sixth marathon this fall, training using the Finish It Plan. We met her at the Zooma Austin pre-race event.

I was 20 when I watched my older brother cross the finish line at his first marathon. I should have been excited for him, but all I could think of was, “I could do that!” Frankly, I never saw my brother as a runner. I was the one who ran track in high school; he was a swimmer. I knew if he could do it, I could, too. Plus, I never forgot what he said as he crossed the finish line: “I feel like I can do ANYTHING.” I think it was what he needed at that time of his life. And I needed it, too.

So the next year I was there, crossing the finish line with him. And I did feel like I could do anything. The feeling was so powerful, I ran the race the next summer … and the next. The empowerment I felt got me through some tough years: breaking up with a boyfriend, an internship in a big city, taking risks, and finding love again. That third marathon I crossed the finish line with my best friend, who then got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

My life shifted in purpose as I became a wife and mother. And I found myself four years later with a need—no longer did I need to feel like I could do ANYTHING; I just wanted to feel like I could do SOMETHING other than change diapers. I was the poor wife of a medical student, living off his future commitment to the U.S. Army, while staying home with two small children under age three.

My husband and I ran the next marathon together again. There were crazy long runs where we paid a babysitter to come at 10 p.m. so we could run along rural highways, jumping over road kill as cars blinded us with their headlights.

I ran No. 5 by myself the next spring. My husband had been out of town for medical rotations for most of the training, so I ran on a treadmill while my kids played in my gym’s daycare. When I dropped my kids off at the sitter’s so I could do a 20-mile run, I remember telling her that if I was not back in five hours, she should come looking for me. We couldn’t afford a cell phone.

The day of the race I was sick. (Later I learned I had mononucleosis.) It was the ultimate test of my stubbornness as I competed 26.2 miles with a fever and feeling horrible. It was not pretty, and not fast, but I finished.

Over six years passed before I had the time or energy to try to race again. In those six years, we added baby number three and four to our family. My husband completed his residency and then a deployment to Afghanistan. We moved three times as the Army directed.

As I signed up my youngest for her first year of preschool, I felt that need again. After helping my family with their needs and goals, I knew I needed to have a goal of my own again. And now I had a few precious hours a week that were all mine. I signed myself up for a half-marathon.

Now, a year and half later, I’ve completed five half marathons. And not long ago, I went online and officially signed myself up for a full marathon this fall, my sixth one. I no longer need to feel like I can do ANYTHING, or even SOMETHING. I run because it makes me happy.

Why I Run: Julie Somora

Julie and one of her sons running strong, for their family and for a great cause.

October 12, 2008: My husband, Andrew, and I ran the Chicago Marathon. A first for both of us.

April 20, 2009: I ran the Boston Marathon. Andrew was there to see me cross the finish line.

Boston Marathon.

October 11, 2009: The Chicago Marathon again.  This time, I cheered him along the streets of Chicago.

August 9, 2010: One day after our 12th wedding anniversary, we learned Andrew had Stage IV colon cancer. He was 37 years old. Our boys were 8 and 5.

November 7, 2010: I ran the NYC Marathon. Despite the fact he was on week 10 of a 12-week chemotherapy regimen, Andrew was there to cheer me on. It was an “off” chemo week.

July 9, 2010: Over 200 of our friends joined Team Somora and ran the Kansas City Get Your Rear in Gear 5Kto promote prevention and early detection of colon cancer and to provide support to those affected. Our team raised the most amount of money in Kansas City and our team was the largest of any GYRIG race in the country. Andrew ran the entire race.

The Somora family.

October 28, 2011: My husband, the father of my children, and love of my life, lost his battle with colon cancer.

October 7, 2012: I will run my second Chicago Marathon. While I won’t have my husband there in person to support me, Andrew will be with me in spirit, every step of the way.

October 28, 2012: I will host the first annual Bringing Up the Rear 5K,  Kansas City’s Race to Defeat Colon Cancer to honor Andrew and raise money for the Andrew J. Somora Foundation, a 501(c)(3) organization I established in December 2011 to help families who have been financially impacted by colon cancer and to help spread awareness of the symptoms of colon cancer and the importance of early detection.

October 29, 2012 and beyond: Running has kept me—and will keep me—going as I try to navigate my life without him. I have to be strong for my boys, but when I run, I can let the tears run and no one can see. I can talk to him and no one looks at me like I am crazy. I can try to solve problems, make decisions and plan my future without him, and yet still feel like he is, in some way, with me the entire way.

Andrew and I ran our entire marriage. Running kept me going through his diagnosis and treatment. I ran for both of us when he could not. Now I run because it’s what Andrew would have wanted me to do.

 

 

Why I Run: Tyson Cluever

Tyson: “I aspire to endure.”

Find the blog of mother runner/triathlete Tyson Cluever here.

Before 2010, my running consisted of laps for conditioning for junior high and high school sports. I was never fast, but I wanted to be fast. I really did. I tried my hand (foot?) at track as a 7th grader. I told the coaches I wanted to be a sprinter and run the 100- and 200-meter dash, just like the other girls on the track team. They looked at me and all 140 pounds on my 5’ 2” frame (I’m of Norwegian and German descent; I eat meat and potatoes. ‘Nuf said.), and told me they thought I’d be a better distance runner. I told them no way was I doing the mile run—it seemed too far and too hard. So, at the next track meet, I ran the 200-meter dash and participated in a sprint relay. Sprinting was hard, so I told the coaches I’d do the mile at the next meet. I never had a fantastic mile time and wasn’t one of those that trained to run a 5:48 mile. My best time was probably an 8:30 mile. After that I decided track wasn’t for me—it was too hard.

Tyson and her family.

After college, I got a job, moved home, quit smoking, got married, had my son, and finally decided to get in shape after seven months of carrying around an extra 40 pounds my little frame didn’t need. I started walking while pushing my son in the stroller and soon discovered I could handle some jogging intervals. Soon, I was only jogging, taking no walk breaks, losing weight, toning up, feeling better about myself and life in general, and my son was getting some much-needed fresh air. I was happy. Every day. I ran my first 5K in 39:45 and was hooked on this thing called running. Even though I was one of the last runners to finish that first 5K race, I finished. I did something not everyone can, or wants, to do.

Hundreds of training miles, a dozen 5Ks, two half-marathons, one marathon, and several triathlons later, I keep running and moving, to train for and reach for the next level. I no longer aspire to be fast: I aspire to endure. I aspire to inspire others to get up and move, to finish every race before the guy on the gator/four-wheeler/golf cart tells me to go home. I lace up each and every day because it is hard, because running is physical, because running is a challenge, because there are those in this world that can’t, because of the rush. I am a member of the elite club of runners, who choose to lace up every day, or a few days a week, for a few miles or for a lot of miles. I am now training for a half-Ironman triathlon in July.

I run to show that any goal is achievable as long as you have the determination, perseverance, and humility to continue on, to endure. I don’t finish in first place, but I finish. I don’t know who said it, but I love the saying, “If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you.” I am changed because of the challenges of running.

Why I Run: Joan Markwell

Joan Markwell (middle) after the Pink Triathlon, a fundraising event to benefit breast cancer research. “My friend on my left fought breast cancer and beat it! YAY!”

Joan Markwell has found “a new love at 40,” as the Australian mum likes to put it. Follow her on her health and fitness blog and on Twitter here.

Well, who would have thought it but after all these years I think I have found a new love.

And before you feel sorry for Craig or wonder what young buck or old stud stole my heart, let me explain my new love is much more innocent, and much better for me than your imagination may predict.

Running!

Yep, running.

I am obsessed. My floor is gathering running magazines, my bookmark and internet history is getting clogged with running sites, my shoe rack is overflowing into the walk-in with runners of all shapes and sizes, my friends are getting bored to death and for the first time ever I felt jealous—yes, jealous—when I saw someone running the other day while I was stuck in the car doing school drop-offs!

As my old friend Lynn would say, “Good Lord, Joanie.”

When I’m not running, I’m doing something that will make me a better runner, like reading about it, doing leg strength workouts, core workouts … God help me, I even bought myself a “Running makes me happy” singlet for my birthday.

Things I love about running:

Convenient – You run out your door, whenever you see a break and you are gone.

Liberating – You run out your door, whenever you see a break and you are gone!

Meditative – it’s just you and your breath and one step at a time. From someone who has all kinds of trouble meditating but had numerous recommendations to take it up, this is about as close as I get. I love it. Some use music, which I have occasionally, but mostly I just like the quiet. Which brings me to the next thing I love…

Peace – Sighhhhh. It’s just you and whoever or whatever noise you would like to add or leave behind.

Sense of achievement – You don’t need to race anybody, only yourself. But you don’t need to do that either; just being out there doing it will be enough to give you a nice sense of achievement. You just need to do it to feel good. One run done is one run more than you did before. Besides, even if you are the slowest runner out there, you are still lapping your mate at home on the couch!

A sense of belonging – You are a runner. Repeat after me, “I am a runner.” It feels nice and other people respect you for that no matter your pace, distance or outfit. Just making the effort makes you part of the club.

Fun – This is something I never thought I would say, but there it is. The first three kilometers are never that fun—in fact, I have a fairly reliable inner dialogue to the sounds of “Errggghh, you just don’t have it in you today,” “Shit, this isn’t fun, maybe I need a day off, I can try tomorrow,” “I don’t like it anymore,”—but then something happens around the 3K mark and the body settles in, the mind starts noticing the breathing and I start to relax. It’s fun.

At her sister’s wedding with daughters Ella and Kate.

Positive role model to my girls – My beautiful, intelligent, funny and very girly girls are learning that their mummy is all of those things, too, as well as strong and fit and independent and values her health as well. They think I’m beautiful and they know that I am strong too. They know it’s cool to be both.

New goals – There is always a new challenge around the corner, whether it be a race you want to enter, a new run to try out or a new friend to run with. The challenges are only as limited as your imagination.

My smile – I love my end-of-run smile. After my mum was ripped from our lives, I must admit some days I have found it hard to truly smile. Now on a bad day I go for a run, and there it is, my smile again. This is a good thing to take home to my family.

Never use say the words, “I’m not a runner.” You may be. You may just not have found what you like about it yet.

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