Beers, BAMRs and Pull-Ups, Oh My!
The (fool?) hearty crowd of the first annual six-pack run.
You may be able to guess this about me, but I’m not a big Halloween celebrator. Sure, I love to go trick-or-treating and see all the vampires and beauty queens and gumball machines, but getting my kids costumed up is enough effort for me. (Case in point: Ben, who wanted to be a king cobra. Seriously? We downsized to a generic lizard, but I’ve still got a lot of scales to pin on.)
I changed my tune, though, when I got an invite to the first annual six-pack run in my neighborhood. The evite stated the details: running with a little drinking thrown in. Six stops, a beer at each one. Costumes encouraged. When I RSVP’ed, I said yes, but that there was no way I could drink six beers in one night, let alone on one 5K route. Just wanted to make that clear. I am a cheap date, and I hate, hate, hate being hungover, even I had the whole house all to myself for the whole weekend this weekend (a story for another time).
Fortunately, the weather was perfect for a very fun night. A few pics tell the story:
Paul was the race director. By day, Paul works on a SWAT Team, so our routine was a little more intense than I expected. Here, he’s laying out the deal: run to a stop, do as many push-ups as you want, drink, a beer (or a fraction of one, as I did), then do a short exercise routine that varied at each stop.
Witch of these things is not like the other?
Our first round of push-ups. They went down in quality as the beer went up in quantity.
Then we drank beer and “stretched.” Yes, I helped outfit the two BAMRs in the crowd. They said they wanted to run together and bitch about themselves to replicate the conversation their wives have when they run. Ha.
And we’re off! (And I’m buzzed off 3 sips of beer and can’t focus the camera.)
One stop: pull-ups at the school playground. (No beer was brought on the grounds.) Here, Misty May shows us her very capable guns–and her glow-in-the-dark medal.
If you’re weren’t up for pull-ups, you weren’t off the hook. Triceps dips all around for this crowd.
Yep, we crossfitted. (Told you Mr. SWAT was intense.) First time I’ve ever I flipped a tire. We also did a squat routine, and a P-90X thing at two other stops. There were a few moves–mostly in the plank/push-up category–where I was in awe and couldn’t have completed, even without Coors Light hydration in my belly.
Just us “girls” at a stop. I’m already planning a better costume for next year…think Ben will loan me his lizard get-up?
Do you mix running and Halloween? Or are they church and state in your mind? And, more importantly, have you bought Halloween candy yet? I–Dimity–am waiting until the 31st. And I’m only buying Smarties, Tootsie Pops and Nerds. And maybe some Raisinets. In other words, nothing that will tempt me too much. (Told you I’m a Halloween Scrooge.)
Racing (and Slowing down) in 2013
After running a 5K with my family last summer, I’ve decided it’s a definite must for my 2013 race calendar.
As I made the snap decision to lace up my shoes and head for the trails, I figured I’d either end up getting sick—definitely a poor prospect a few days out from a four-day work trip to Chicago—OR I’d revive my bone-tired body and jumbled mind. I was really hoping for the latter.
When the window of running time presents itself, as it did Wednesday about an hour before my kids got off the bus, you take it. Even, it seems, when a lack of sleep in recent days and ever-so-slight sniffling (is it allergies or a cold coming on?) leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe you should just forget it and try again the next day.
It’s true that I could have snagged a quick afternoon siesta, or made one more work call, or folded the mounds of clean laundry overtaking our living room. But instead I ran. It seems to have to worked in my favor given that—fingers and toes crossed, knock on wood—I’ve kept any fall cold and flu symptoms at bay. I definitely attribute this to that nice-and-easy three-miler in the woods … and that night’s stellar deep sleep. More of that, please.
But as I ran and marveled at the unseasonably warm October weather, savoring the streaks of sunlight darting through tree branches and pooling onto the path ahead, a thought snaked its way into my reverie: Cramming a run into a jam-packed day, as necessary as it is to my soul, can just feel so inconvenient sometimes. And this is just a short run today!
Coming off my half-marathon earlier two weeks ago, I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s next—do I want to spend the busy holiday season enjoying lower-key races like our local turkey trot and jingle bell run with friends and family? Or do I dive into training for a spring marathon? Or both? I’d also like to map out other races for 2013, like a destination one, maybe 26.2 in Chicago, and a summer trail race near Lake Superior … and, oh, there’s that autumn run-through-the-vineyards race I’ve long wanted to run with girlfriends. Maybe make it a weekend winery getaway…
With these swirling thoughts, however, comes the reality of a pretty demanding teaching job (see lack of sleep above), writing work, and parenting duties that some days feels more intense than ever (to all those more experienced moms who told me caring for older children was challenging in different ways: you were right). Some days I feel like I can do it all—run, raise kids, work, be happy. Other days, I wonder: who are you kidding exactly?
As driven as I can be in life, work and running, I’ve begun to recognize my need to draw boundaries. To prioritize. To pick and choose. To let go. To wait. To dream while also relishing where I’m at. So maybe now isn’t the time I’ll run oodles of races every season. I may only select one very important race for the year, with a couple of smaller races sprinkled here and there. Family-races, particularly those that could be tied to a weekend trip not far from home, also are on my radar. I like having the mixture of just-for-me races and events that get my husband, me, and our three kids out running together.
I’ve asked running friends how they plan their race schedules, especially with kids, and I realize just how individual it is. One friend of young kids desperately wants to run a marathon someday soon but fears the commitment it’ll take to train well. Pulling the trigger and signing on for 26.2 just doesn’t feel right when she’s needed so much at home, she says. Another friend, wanting her husband to “have a turn” at racing, is dialing back her schedule and shouldering more with their kids so that he can focus on training. A third friend shares that, though she once had hopes of qualifying for Boston, taking a breather from training hard feels good at this point in her running life (she’s since become pregnant and is expecting a baby this spring, and she’s thrilled to be taking it easy).
No matter what my 2013 race schedule ends up looking like, I know for sure I want to do what I can to maintain my current fitness level as much as possible. This means feeling strong enough to head out for a 10-mile run on the weekends, even if I’m not training for a half-marathon or greater distance. But I also want to temper my commitment to running plenty and racing some with quiet moments with my family, my friends, myself. I’m convinced it’s that balance–however it may look for each of us–is what keeps us ready for the runs and races ahead, whatever and wherever they may be.
Jumping Back on the Train(ing)
Can’t, for the life of me, find photos of Molly, Kristin, and me after our first training run, so this one of Molly and me before our half-marathon will stand in for it. (Sorry!)
Two weeks ago yesterday, I ran the Twin Cities Marathon; yesterday I ran 13 miles as prep for the December 16 Holiday Half here in Portland. I guess some folks, say, for example, Dimity, might call that a quick turnaround. Our conversation when I told her went something like this. Dimity: “There’s no way I would want to jump back on a training plan so quickly.” Me: “It wasn’t so fast…I took a whole week off of running.” Ah, perspective.
But daylight is burning: I have pals counting on me for this half-marathon. Molly, Kristin, and I are running it together, to pull us all to a finish under two hours. Molly, as loyal readers may recall, is the mother runner I helped run sub-2:00 in spring 2011; she hasn’t raced 13.1 miles in less than two hours since then. Kristin, a new (and incredibly witty!) friend, has a half-marathon PR of 2:00:43. Oh, so close! Come December, we’ll blitz along and dash away all to a 1:57-ish finish. (You heard it here first.)
Molly and I are following the Half-Marathon: Own It plan from Train Like a Mother: How to Get Across Any Finish Line – and Not Lose Your Family, Job, or Sanity
, which is 13 weeks long. After some initial errors in my calendar calculations (counting backward isn’t my strong suite), I realized I should jump into Week 5. After a week of no running–not a single step–I was itching to hit the road. The plan called for 3 to 5 easy miles, so Molly and I split the difference and decided we’d run 4 miles. It was pretty much what I would have run on my own volition, not because the plan called for it; the run like a “soft launch” onto the plan. I didn’t feel confined or restricted. The next day the plan prescribed 6 miles with the middle 4 at race pace. The week off had put a lot of spring in my step: Once again, it put the fun in run. (A “frun”??)
Last week’s workouts
I don’t have any closing message to this post. Just wanted to get you gals up to speed on where I’m at. I’m really excited to run the race with Molly and Kristin, as well as do several training runs with them. (Kristin, alas, lives too far away for weekday runs with us, but we’ve got a few long runs on our docket.) My legs and mind feel fresh; it doesn’t feel like I’m jumping the gun by getting on another training plan. To quote Danielle Whippel, a mother runner we finally got to meet last month: Giddy-up!
After a race, how long do you usually need–physically, mentally, emotionally, or family-wise–to recoup before you start training for another race?
Ready, Set, Go: It’s Race Day!
Sarah and Dimity near Mile 15 of Twin Cities Marathon.
Recorded days before heading to the Twin Cities to run the marathon (Sarah) and 10-miler (Dimity), the gals reminisce about memorable race day mornings—including such beauties as when SBS kept gagging while brushing her teeth before the Nike Women’s Marathon. Then the mother runners read the final chapter of Train Like a Mother, which counts down the days and minutes leading up to the start of a race. But the not-to-be-missed moment of this podcast is when Dimity uses the phrase “freeballing.” (She later admits she meant “freewheeling.”)
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Tell Me Tuesday: Recovery after a Half-Marathon or Marathon
Me (orange l/s tee, black hat and vest) and 150 of my marathoning buddies on a gorgeous fall morning in the Twin Cities.
After Marathons 1 through 7, it took me almost a month to feel like my old self again. My legs felt heavy; my pace felt sluggish; I started to drool into my pillow at about 9:15 most nights. But this year, for Marathons 8 and 9, I’ve taken a new tactic: Instead of resuming to run a few days after the race, I’m now taking a full week off from exercise—and, oh, what a delightful difference it makes. My arse isn’t dragging, either proverbially or almost literally. I ran the Twin Cities Marathon on October 7, and my first run after it was just yesterday—an easy four miles. My legs felt fresh, and I was so excited to hit the road again, I practically skipped out the door. Here are five tips for pushing the reset button after a 26.2- or 13.1-mile race:
Give your body a break. You just asked your muscles, tendons, joints, and ligaments to carry you 26.2 miles—they deserve some R&R. When I read on our Facebook page that mother runner Janet had conquered the Long Beach Marathon on October 7, then run eight (8!) miles on October 9, I winced and clutched my quads. Trust me: You won’t lose your fitness gains in a few days, and you’ll return fresher if you take a week or 10 days completely off of running after a marathon, or three to five days after a half.
Be vigilant about self-care. I always try to budget for a massage two days post-race. The therapists works out tight spots and potential problem areas I don’t know exist until she lays hands on them (hey, calf muscles, I’m talking about you!). The weeks and month following a big race are also the time to cozy up to your foam roller, The Stick, or frozen bottle of water. Roll, roll, roll away…
How I brightened my post-race mood–and filled some hours previously spent running
Make alternate plans. After the high of crossing the finish line subsides, it’s natural to feel some post-race blues. You’d been looking forward to, and training for, your big races for months, and now it’s over. Instead of throwing yourself immediately into a new training cycle (see above), find some non-running ways to fill your time. Go see that new Oscar-worthy movie everyone is raving about; head to the pumpkin patch with your kids (once your legs let you bend down to pick a pumpkin!); sort through your winter clothes and put away your summer ones. After returning from the Disneyland Half last month, I found cleaning out our freezer incredibly therapeutic; this past weekend, I used my “extra” time to plant daffodil bulbs.
Cross-train. Now is a great time to do that Bikram yoga class your friend has been raving about or to shake your moneymaker at a Zumba class. I’m considering taking boot camp three days/week instead of my usual two. Make the most of your freedom now that you not tied down to a training plan!
Then…start plotting your next race. Another 26.2, or shift to busting a move in the 5K? Maybe you’ll decide to focus exclusively on halfsies. There’s no right or wrong answer after a big race. After taking last week completely off, I’m jumping into Week 5 of the Half-Marathon: Own It plan from Train Like a Mother: How to Get Across Any Finish Line – and Not Lose Your Family, Job, or Sanity. The plan is to pull two pals to a sub-2:00 finish at Portland’s Holiday Half.
Now, share with us: How do you recuperate and recover after an epic race?
Training Like a Husband of a Mother Runner
An ecstatic SBS+ Tom after both of them owned a marathon in the Twin Cities.
Another mother runner’s husband, Tom Karp, jumped into a bright orange book and on the mother runner train as he stared down the 2012 Twin Cities Marathon. He volunteered to write this post and we took him up on it because a) it comes in handy after a long weekend like this one and more importantly, b) we were thrilled he had such success with the plan. Or maybe he just felt guilty because I helped him put his shoes back on and tied them after the race; he had just gotten up from sitting down, and I sensed that reaching his shoes felt as hard as running another 26.2.
To put things in perspective I should begin by mentioning that I’m a man and I’m 46. I’ll also add that I’m 6’2” and I that I could lose a few pounds.
2006 4:45:11
2008 4:27:55
2011 5:13:18In 2012 I did 26.2 yet again. Drum roll, please: 4:02:00As the old Sesame Street song goes, “One of these things is not like the others”. What happened? I trained like a mother!
When I was thinking about doing the race, I picked up a book my wife was reading, Train Like a Mother. I skimmed over some pages that didn’t seem to apply to my life–stuff about periods; sports bras; running after having a baby; and other issues men simply and thankfully do not have to deal with–and then I hit upon The Marathon: Own It Plan.
It caught my eye right away because there was a key attached that explained the terminology in the plan. There were symbols that made sense to me like coffee cups (you can bail on the workout if your life doesn’t allow you to get it in) and water bottles (no bailing allowed; it’s a key workout to get you across the finish line). One of my problems has always been that 800 x 4 never made much sense to me, but this plan, that explained every workout and then some, made sense to me, a working, 46-year–old father of two.
After taking on 18 miles, Tom poses with his righteous posse: a bunch of badass mother runner.
In the Own It Plan, if a run doesn’t go well you’ll either get a chance to do the same run again or get a step back to a shorter run before you attempt a longer distance. Simply put, it allows you more opportunity to taste success–and thus, stay motivated–than other plans.And the speed work included in the plan did wonders for my time! I’ve never been a fan of intervals or fartleks or anything where I really had to consciously run super hard. But, for whatever reason, the speed work in the Own It Plan, came far easier to me. Don’t get me wrong: it still kicked my butt, but I didn’t dread it like I have in the past. The tempo runs and runs with ‘strides’ obviously played a huge role in making my 2012 TCM time a huge PR.
Seriously, a 28-minute PR at age 46. Who does that? I do.I’m now telling my father friends to suck up their pride and stick to a mother’s plan. These women seem to know what they’re doing: The Own It Plan, whether you’re a mother, father, child-free or swimming in diapers, is a sure way to improve your running.