Figuring out fuel
I’d hate to jinx myself, but Friday mornings so far this fall have turned into the most perfect mix of exercise and rejuvenation. Exercise because I have a kick-butt Pilates reformer session first thing after getting kids off to school, and rejuvenation because I follow up the 50-minute sweat-fest of a class with a long trail run in the woods. It’s also the one day of my work week when I have the flexibility to get cozy with my computer at my favorite coffee shop, which happens to dish out one of my most favorite post-run meals, especially once cooler weather hits: a heaping bowl of oatmeal topped with fresh raspberries, blueberries and strawberries.
Post-run deliciousness. The latte is a must for extra-hard workout days.
I’ve been treating myself to this breakfast for the past couple of weeks, and it’s been a huge motivator to power through the tough core workout and subsequent challenging run. It also fuels me so that I can stay on task with work—not always easy to do on Fridays, right?—so I can, when I really just put my head down and get crackin’ on looming deadlines, start the weekend with my family as soon as my kids get off the bus mid-afternoon.
If only all my post-run meals were just as healthy and filling. Yep, my name is Heather and I am a relatively slow learner when it comes to smart fueling—specifically, feeding myself well post-run and also sometimes mid-run. Before runs, I will say, I’m pretty good. Up early for the 6:53 a.m. school bus pick-up, I eat with my kids, typically a small bowl of oatmeal, peanut butter and bananas on toast, or yogurt and granola. Coupled with a few sips of coffee and I’m ready for my run a half hour or so later.
But it’s the mid-run and post-run fuel that’s most stumped me through the years. It’s not that I don’t have great ideas and intentions—I’ve talked about this lots with running friends, blogged about the different things I’ve tried, and have discovered loads of new ideas from fellow AMR tribe members—but following through with these…well, it doesn’t happen nearly as much as it should. Too often, particularly after long weekend runs when I really need the fuel, I get caught up taking care of my family instead of making fueling (and sometimes a shower) a top priority. And I wonder why I am sluggish and shaky not long afterward, longing for a nap rather than savoring that good-sore kind of tired feeling because I thanked my hard-working body with hearty and necessary food.
Also, I’ll just say it: I’m not always the best planner when it comes to incorporating fuel throughout my long runs (thank goodness I have running buddies who are a bit more, um, Type A and ensure our running group has plenty of Gu Chomps, sports jelly beans and water at the ready). But, really, I should be more organized by now, given the three marathons and more than half a dozen half-marathons under my belt. I definitely learned the most while training for my first marathon, for which I hired a running coach. She taught me the importance of taking my first fuel around the 45-minute mark, or between miles five and six, of a long run. Planting water/hydration, or planning water fountain stops on the route, also was emphasized to me. Like I said, I’m getting better at this (I’m looking into hand-held water bottles, an idea that I once eschewed but now really want to try). Lisa also instructed me to enjoy an ice-cold can of Coke (not diet, the real, regular sugar deal) after my first 20-miler. Coca-Cola never tasted so good.
As I’ve trained for a half-marathon this October, I’ve been experimenting with different fuel options—and forcing myself to make sure to eat something satisfying and good within that important window of time—45 minutes post-workout–when our bodies are craving healthy carbs and protein. (Check out Sarah’s piece in Runner’s World about post-run nutrition to learn more) In addition, I’ve discovered a few new things that work well for me mid-run. Interestingly enough, what once worked fairly well for me in the past, particularly my first marathon—Hammer Gels and Gu packets—now don’t sit so well with my tummy. Here’s what’s working:
A newer fave post-long run meal: egg whites, beans, meat & whole wheat toast. And Vulcan’s Fire Salt. Don’t forget that.
Mid-run: all-natural granola with dried cherries (I like Michigan-based Simply Suzanne Sweet and Savory So Very Cherry Granola). I put a handful in a plastic baggie, which I carry in my running skirt’s back or front pocket. Just remember to take any remains in the plastic bag out of your pocket before washing your running clothes. The dryer-cooked bag did have a nice-smelling aroma to it …
Post-run: egg-white scramble with beans (I especially like red kidney, great white northern, and black beans). Sometimes I’ll mix in chopped chicken breast or chicken sausage if we have leftovers from the night before. And I always, always sprinkle it with Vulcan’s Fire Salt from The Spice House in Chicago. Yum.
What’s your favorite mid-run and post-run fuel?
WWAMRD: Would You Drop out of a Race?
Lisa, that tiny figure in the middle of the frame, is walking because of an angry ankle. Should she continue on with the race?
This edition of WWAMRD comes courtesy of the ZOOMA Cape Cod race this weekend. I was out taking pictures on the course, and came across a runner who was walking. It was around mile 1.5 or so for both the 10K and half-marathon, and she was alone and looked capable of picking up the pace. “Run for me,” I cheered, “I’ll get a great shot.”
“I can’t,” she said, and as she caught up to me, I realized it was Lisa, a longtime member of this BAMR community. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she said, “My ankle hurts.” (And by hurts, she later explained, “On a scale of 1-10, it was a 5. It didn’t hurt-hurt, but was more twingy and made me feel like it COULD be a problem more later on. Didn’t want to drop out at the 10th mile.”)
I gave her a hug, and she explained that it started to hurt during a long run recently; around mile 11 of a 12 miler. Then she mentioned was training for her second marathon, the Steamtown Marathon on October 7th. Turns out, she’d already run two 20 milers, so she was ready to steam through Steamtown, if her ankle would cooperate. She’d done the work for a full 26.2–and was potentially sabotaging her hard, hard work through this race.
Not wanting to completely waylay her plans, I suggested she downsize from the half-marathon and walk the 10K, but then I was more honest: “You need to remember what your goal is. It’s not this race; it’s the marathon.” Still, she had a posse of girlfriends running the race–they were all staying at her nearby parents’ house–and she would be the only one at the finish line without a race story.
So she could continue with her original goal of the half, downsize to the 10K, or call it a day.
What would you do?
What Dimity would do: Against my more rational judgment, I’d probably run the 10K and hope the pain would stay at a 5. And pray that I could, despite not listening to the warning signs my body was sending out, make it through the marathon. Not coincidentally, I just interviewed a sports medicine doctor who said, and I quote, “Your body gives you plenty of warning when it’s going to be injured. You just have to listen. Most runners are really bad at listening.”
What Sarah would do: Not cross the starting line. My bout with plantar fasciitis was so debilitating last summer that I will not put myself in a position where I have to deal with another injury like that.
Lisa, left, and her pal at the expo, post-race. She didn’t run happy–but she’s happy with the decision she made.
What Lisa did: Turned around with me and walked back to the starting line. “I was very sad and weepy right away,” she says, “But later on in the day, I was resigned that it was the best choice. On Sunday, the day after the race, my ankle was fine so I totally second-guessed myself and wondered if I shouldn’t have just powered through.” She contemplated making up the mileage today, but another friend talked her down from the ledge and realized she needs to taper, not put the marathon in jeopardy. “I used to think it was weak to drop out of a race,” she says, “The more I run and the older I get the more I realize it’s much, much harder to be smart and live to run another day.”
What would you do? Turn around, downsize your race or gut out the half-marathon?
Some Reflective Moments on a Long Run
My parents with my three kiddos this summer. (Note my dad’s Runner’s World tee!)
My mother was very much on my mind during my weekend long run: At 86, she’s having hip replacement surgery today. I’m spending this week at my childhood home in Connecticut to take care of my dad while my mom is in the hospital and rehab. My mom, from hardy stock, is strong, stoic, and in relatively good health. Still, it was hard not to let concerns and thoughts of “what if?” cast a slight pall over an otherwise exquisitely gorgeous early fall day.
With about 15 miles to cover, I wound my way along sun-dappled roads lined with lovely homes, many built nearly two centuries ago. But it was a house completed a mere 63 years ago (“recently” in New England terms) that made me stop for a closer look: the Philip Johnson Glass House. Despite growing up only about five miles from it, I’d never visited this famous house–and its stunningly beautiful grounds and outbuildings–until a few years with my mother. Turns out she’d never gone to see it, either. The tours of the house and the property are tightly controlled: My mother and I opted for the shorter tour, in large part because her already-ailing hip wouldn’t allow her to be on her feet for more than the hour the tour entailed. This tour option also didn’t allow visitors to take photos.
The view from the Glass House: a surprisingly well-framed shot, despite me shooting it blindly on the sly.
As soon as we arrived–on a beautiful summer day, reminiscent of Sunday, except for the air temperature–I regretted being unable to snap photographs. So, let me confess, I took out my iPhone, and as casual as could be, surreptitiously started taking pictures by simply holding the phone down by my side and pressing the camera button without looking through the viewfinder. My mother, who I thought didn’t know an iPhone from an igloo, wandered over to me, and quietly asked, “Does your phone take photos?” My covert reply, “I’m on it, Mom.”
Yesterday, as I stood on the stone wall surrounding the Glass House in my running clothes, I chuckled as I remembered our shared sneakiness. My mother is a devout Catholic, yet her conscience let her bend the rules ever-so-slightly to allow us to get lasting images of our visit.
Then, like a gust of wind rustling some early fall leaves, my mood turned more sober. As Peter Gabriel’s poignant song “Wallflower” played on my iPod, I focused on the thought of something going wrong with my mom’s surgery or recovery. My smile vanished, and tears sprang to my eyes. I look up at the cerulean sky, where wispy clouds jetted by. Unlike my mother, I rarely turn to God, but I asked that all will go well with my mother in the coming days. Maybe next summer, her new hip will allow us to return to the Glass House and take the longer tour–and some proper photos.
The Gals Gab about Disneyland Half-Marathon and Other Races
Fairy Runmothers Dimity (pink) and Sarah (blue) ready to fly at start of Disneyland Half
Despite just seeing each other—and their families—in Disneyland over Labor Day, the gals have a lot of catching up to do. Listen in as they recount their debut runDisney race, which they both adored. But find out why they each ditched their respective pace groups and how Dimity cleverly had Sarah’s son climb an obelisk at the Magic Kingdom to keep him in her sights, post-race. Talk turns to Dimity’s recent “aquabike” race and Sarah’s final 20-miler for the Twin Cities Marathon. Be forewarned: Dimity’s bum-crack comes up in conversation!
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L-R, Amelia (Dim’s daughter), Daphne, and Phoebe (Sarah’s 2 gals) on the teacups
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What Would Another Mother Runner Do?
Ellison running the 2010 Boston Marathon, no skeevy guys in a truck in sight.
Like my three kids being away from the soccer pitch this summer, we’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from this “game” we created last spring. In our last installment of What Would Another Mother Runner Do (WWAMRD), we told the tale of Jenn from N.C. who brought two left shoes to compete in a sprint triathlon…so she ran the 5K barefoot. (Yeah, we’re still in awe of her badass self!)
Today’s true tale happened to my good friend Ellison here in Portland. Before I recount it, I want to say we are in no way making light of a potentially dangerous situation–like an airlines, safety is our number one priority–but I will admit I love the James Bondian resolution to the situation. Here is the WWAMRD scenario:
Running solo in daylight hours, Ellison realized a guy in a truck was following her. She was in a residential area relatively near a busy street with lots of commerce on it, including a 24-hour supermarket, Starbucks, and Walgreens; she quickly changed her route to head toward those stores. The truck got ahead of her, then pulled up alongside of her, on the opposite side of the street. By this point, Ellison was near enough to people in parking lots to know help was nearby. But it was still a disturbing situation, especially since the creep had said something crude to her from his rolled-down window.
What would you do?
Sarah answers: While I would have been sorely tempted to toss out some R-rated expletives, I would have stepped on the proverbial gas and dashed into Walgreens as fast as my legs could carry me.
Dimity answers: I would definitely not have the courage to provoke him, so I’d somehow fold myself into a crowd. And I probably would’ve borrowed a cell phone and had my husband come pick me up. (That is, if he answered the phone, which he usually doesn’t do if he doesn’t recognize the number. Frustrating.)
What Ellison did: Displaying amazing cleverness and resourcefulness, this soon-to-be grandmother runner held up her left arm with her Garmin Forerunner 410 strapped to it. Figuring the bozo in truck didn’t know that cameras aren’t (yet!) standard issue in wrist GPS devices, Ellison held up her Garmin like a camera; she pretended she was filming the guy while saying, “I’m sending these images to the police right now!”
What happened: The scumbucket got a mortified look on his face and quickly drove off, leaving Ellison shaken, but not stirred.
What would you, another mother runner, do?
And if you’ve got a running-related moment you’d like some clarity on, via WWAMRD, feel free to email us at runmother [at] gmail [dot] com. Thanks!
Dimity’s 10 Running Answers
My turn to play along with the 10-question game SBS started last week.
Dharma on the right. Reclining in the sandbox–and clearly reliving all her runs in the high desert with her mom.
1. Best run ever: That’s a really hard one to start with. Ever? Well, some of my most fond running memories are on the Dale Ball Trails in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with my sometimes reluctant running partner, Dharma. (When she didn’t want to go any farther, she’d just pull up in the middle of the trail and not move, then look at me like I was crazy when I called her to keep coming. Glad I usually remembered to bring treats–and a leash.) The trails, which were a 7 minute drive from my house, are super interesting: lots of ups and downs and turns, plenty of options to vary the route, plus they wind through some lovely high desert landscape. Looking back, I didn’t know how good I had it.
2. Three words that describe my running: Necessary. Delicious. Frustrating.
3. My go-to running outfit is: the lucy Endurance Skirt and–SBS will cringe in horror when she reads this–but I do love running in a cotton tee for shorter runs. My current fave is an old Larabar tee from my sis. And I must put in a plug for the brand new Champion Smoothie bra. Did five miles in this smoothie on Saturday morning and loved it. Easy back clasp, great wicking, adjustable straps. Easily my new fave bra.
This is how much I love the new Champion Smoothie bra. I actually look a picture of me in it because, well, I look bodacious. Which isn’t ever the case.
4. Quirky habit while running: more like disgusting habit, but I am queen of air snots. When SBS and I run with a group of people, I often forget that I’m not by myself–or with my friends who know my nasal habits–andI blow away unannounced. I usually apologize quickly afterwards.
5. Morning, midday, evening: gotta be the a. to the m. There are very few instances where I would lace up at 7 p.m., but I do like a lunch run, especially in the winter.
6. I won’t run outside when it’s: I should say icy, because I learned my lesson when I broke my wrist a few years ago; I went down hard at the end of a trail run in a glass-like canyon. But really, it’s gusty wind that I hate the most. I’m not sure I’d call my run for it, but I’d definitely curse it the entire way. (Until it was at my back, giving me crazy fast splits, of course.)
7. Worst injury—and how I got over it: What week are we talking about? I jest, but there’s a reason why I wrote the injury chapter in both Run Like a Mother + Train Like a Mother. My current issue: a crazy pulled shoulder blade/crick in my neck from the swim or the bike of last week’s Aqua Bike. Nothing like not being able to turn your head to back the car out of the garage.
My girls on the run and me last spring; I hopefully helped them learn that every run can bring out their inner confidence–or silliness.
8. I felt most like a badass mother runner when: I’ve been letting this one marinate in my mind over the past week, and I can’t come up with just one moment. Because every run I do makes me feel badass. Honestly. There’s something so deliberate and self-accountable about a run. I decided/forced myself to go. I ran up hills and past people in cars and in the dark. And I was responsible for every step, every drop of sweat. That, to me, is just badass. In this world, where there are so many outs and excuses, and in my world, where almost every else I do during the day involves somebody else, any run lets me pin an invisible badass badge to my chest and summon it when I need confidence, patience, or strength during the day.
9. Next race is: The Bear Chase Trail Race, half-marathon style please. Doing it with my bro-in-law Tom, my husband Grant, and possibly my pal Bine. Should be fun and relaxed, as most trail races are. Following up that with the Medtronic TC 10 Mile the next weekend. I’ll barely dip into double digits while SBS takes on the whole enchilada. I’m pretty sure I have the better deal.
10. Potential running goal for 2013: My only goal for 2013 is to get to the starting line and the finish line of the Ironman Couer d’Alene healthy and smiling.
I’m going to tag three people: my pal from ZOOMA Annapolis Cynthia, who is going through a rough patch with injuries; and my ultrarunner pal Katie, just because I must know what her best run ever is. (No weaseling out of it, like I did, Katie!) And our mother’s helper, Heather, because, well, we need to know what her running goal is for 2013 so we can plan accordingly.
Despite what my kids might think, I don’t play favorites. We want to read YOUR answers. So if you haven’t already, feel free to post your 10 answers to your blog and link back here–and post in the comments below so we can read them! (We’re slowly making our way through them…) Plus, if you’re a tweeter, send it to us at @dimityontherun and @Sbsontherun, and we’ll be sure to give it some twitter love!
Happy Monday, all; here’s to a great start of the week. xo.