Tell Me Tuesday: On Being Epic
I have received so much positive feedback about my Epic Ironmother feature in the April issue of Runner’s World (it’s not online yet); thank you all for your kind words and notes. I promise, I won’t be all Midwestern middle child and detract from my race or effort or training, because I rocked those 140.6 miles.
That said, I wanted to repeat a line I wrote in the story that somebody tweeted back to me, and I’m very glad wasn’t edited at all.
Going big isn’t really about the distance: It’s about taking on something that isn’t necessarily a gimme.
On our 100th episode podcast, we relistened to Bart Yasso talking about the incredible stories he hears at races. Stories that floor him, stories told by people who he can’t believe are standing in front of him and are going to cross a finish line.
In the past few weeks, I’ve been reading a lot of mother runner stories that floor me—and make my heart hurt. Paula, a mother runner in the AMR Strava Prove It Challenge, lost her husband to colon cancer. The son of Anna, another mother runner in the Challenge, was disagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. Cynthia, a total BAMR I had the honor of running with a few years ago, had a huge scare when her son Sam started seizing and needed a helicopter evac. I’ve also read of breast biopsies and season-ending injuries. All stuff that stops me in my tracks and makes me want to simulateously give the mother runner a hug and take her for a run and let her vent and cry and laugh.
And I’ve read notes and tweets and status updates about the Epic story that also make me want to give the writer a hug and go for a run with her and talk about how she’s going to do something that isn’t a gimme.
I’ve done a lot of virtual hugging and running lately.
I wrote this post in my head at 6 a.m. this morning as I loped through six miles, but it’s not tying neatly up with a bow as I mentally made it in the morning darkness. (Hate it when that happens.)
So I just want to acknowledge that I’m thrilled to inspire people to go big, to take on something that isn’t necessarily a gimme.
But I also want to acknowledge that the inspiration goes both ways. Both Sarah and I are motivated daily by women living floor-us stories, women who are in the process of doing epic, tough-to-even-comprehend things that don’t even involve running. And they’re still running. That is epic.
We all put in the miles. If we’re lucky, it’s so we can simply cover more miles in a race. Sometimes, though, we need them to withstand an epic journey we never saw coming. Sending Ironmother strength, hugs, and virtual runs to all who are in those kind of journeys right now. xo
Hoping you feel the Mother Runner Circle of Life too: How has it graced you lately?
Ragnar Relay Contest: Napa Valley, Here We Come!
Insert yourself here, mother runner! (In the tutu, not the bright green socks.)
We are sooooo ready to twist off the top on the bottle—we’re classy like that—on this, our second-annual Ragnar Relay contest.
We’re headed to the Napa Valley Ragnar Relay, a 197-mile route which starts in lovely San Francisco and ends in even lovelier Napa Valley. (Check out this great video to get your juices flowing for some good running—and some good wine.)
Insert yourself here. I mean, at the Ragnar finish line. With a tutu. And a medal. And a smile. And maybe some tight buns next to you.
We’re taking it on as one ridiculously solid, ridiculously strong, ridiculously entertaining team of 12 mother runners. Team name? The Badass Mother Runners, of course.
And now we need some mother runners to fill our team. We’re looking for 11 mother runners who can join us in Cali from September 18-21, 2014. (11 runners because we’ll have 1o runners + 1 alternate, who will train and join us if somebody gets injured while training.)
In case you’re not up to speed on all things Ragnar—and you missed the whole Team Dimity vs. Team Sarah showdown last year—the two-day race is a team relay: 12 runners each run 3 legs that range from roughly 3-10 miles each. By the end of the relay, each runner will covered between 13-22 miles, and spent anywhere from 24-30 hours in a van with, optimistically, six total hours of sleep. (And maybe there’s a shower, or maybe there isn’t.)
Or you could insert yourself here. Ma Nature makes a good mattress.
The logistics can be daunting—you’ve got to stay on route, make sure you’re communicating well with your teammates, and deal with a little sleep deprivation—but those issues are nada compared to the whole experience of competing as a team, meeting new, probably lifelong friends, making crazy, funny memories, and feeling as carefree as you did when you were about 9 years old.
Ragnar is just good, pure, down-home mother runner fun.
Oh, and then there’s this: the 11 women who fill our team will get this unbelievable prize package chocked full of our favorite training gear.
A selection of what each relay runner will receive—and more will likely be added to the mix as the race gets closer (and please note: these pics are just representations, not the exact quantity or style of what each winner will receive):
Nuun: tasty hydration in non-sticky, super-convenient tablets (and sponsor of Ragnar)
GU: a sampling of gels and chomps that fuel you for plenty of miles
110% Flat Out Sox: squeezy gradient compression socks to keep your legs fresh and kicky
Strava: one month of premium membership, plus a Strava Sweaty Band (and a place to log all your miles and chat with your new teammates)
Saucony: a technical running jacket so you can #findyourstrong in all conditions
Tough Girl Tutu: because no mother-runner relay team would be complete without tutus
Ultimate Direction: a Handy-20 handheld bottle from the new Jenny collection
AMR Top: to-be-determined (and designed) tank or shirt for our badass team
Ragnar: the all-important entry to the badass mother runner team
Thule: a pro-deal card so you can grab a sleek backpack, some rugged luggage built for gear transport, a Chariot Carrier at a significant discount (just one rule: no strollers at the Ragnar, please)
Soleus: a pro-deal card so you can buy at a way-steep discount, a GPS to mark your miles while training and at the race
You will receive the majority of the prizes at your home, weeks before the relay, so you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with them before the Showdown begins.
Or you could be drinking chocolate milk after a run with a new pal at a picnic bench. You’d fit in here.
We need 11 women to fill our team. Before I get to how we’ll do that, here are a few very important details:
What is included in winning: entry to the race, vehicle and gas during the race, all the great prizes listed above, nibbles for the vans.
What is not included in winning: transportation to and from the race; hotel before or after the race; meals before, during, and after the race. (We will obviously try to minimize costs by sharing rooms and helping with airport transfers and such. Oh, and we’ll order boxed wine at the end. Kidding.)
Dates: Race is September 19-20. You need to be in San Francsico, CA by 5 p.m. on September 18, and depending on where you’re coming from, you will likely not be able to head home until September 21.
Or yep, you could be running with your very own reflective vest at hours usually reserved for REM sleep.
O.k., a few more important details:
How do I enter?
All we ask is you be creative and tell us why you want to join the Ultimate Mother Runner Showdown. Do what you can with the time and resources you have.
So you can make a video; paint a picture; decorate a poster; collage some photos; knit a sweater; do a dance; design a team uniform; plant some flowers in BAMR style; write an essay (please keep your word count under 600); whatever works for you. (Need some inspiration? Check out the entries from last year: Team Dimity + Team Sarah.)
Sarah and I will pick the winners based on originality and presentation.
And yes, there’s always a possibility you’ll end up inserting yourself here. (But hey: She ran all the miles.)
Where do I send my entry?
To us, at runmother [at] gmail [dot] com with “Ragnar Entry” in the subject line, please.
When does the contest close?
We need to receive all entries by April 28. We will announce the 11 winners (10 runners + 1 alternate) on May 5.
Do I have to be a super-speedy runner?
Absolutely not. But you definitely need to be a fun runner. We value entertainment way more than we value speed. That said, by the time the race rolls around, you need to be able to capably cover the distance of the various legs. (If you can run a 10K now, you can easily run Ragnar by September.) We are going to have Coach Christine Hinton, BAMR in every respect, write a training program that will get you ready to Ragnar.
Is this contest open to mother runners from other countries?
Yep. If you can get your jet-lagged self to San Francisco by September 18, we want you and your cool passport.
Can I do a joint entry with my BRF (best running friend)?
Not this year, since we only have one team. One mother runner per entry, please. (And don’t worry about showing up solo. As the mother runners who joined us last year prove on a daily basis: You’ll make friends quickly and meaningfully faster than you ever have in your life. That’s the beauty of Ragnar.)
What if I really, really want to run but I didn’t make the team?
Ragnar is generously offering AMR a special discount code to our tribe to run Napa, which we’ll share with you on May 5. We’ll also provide a social media place for you to find teammates, understanding there’s a slight possibility that you don’t have 11 BRF’s who are ready to head to Napa.
Any other q’s? Hit us below in the comments and we’ll answer them.
#101: Kathrine Switzer Reflects Back—and Talks Future Races
In the presence of a legend: Sarah with Kathrine Switzer in summer of 2012 at a local race in Connecticut.
Sarah and Dimity are honored to welcome Kathrine Switzer to the podcast. As the first woman to run the venerable Boston Marathon with an official number, Kathrine changed the course of women’s running. Kathrine walks the mother runners through that epic 1967 Boston Marathon experience, calling it, “a series of coincidences that couldn’t possibly repeat,” and “an awakening” for herself at age 20. She shares her vision for future races she’d like to see in the Olympic Games—such as relay races, “that combine men’s unique capabilities with women’s.” Kathrine also talks about the work she’s doing to reach out to women to make them feel fearless, including the inaugural 261 Women’s Marathon happening in Majoraca, Spain, in two weeks, and the 261 Fearless Collection from Skirt Sports.
Dimity and Sarah are rendered speechless several times throughout this not-to-be-missed podcast; afterward, Dimity confesses she pitted out during the conversation and Sarah says her hands went nearly numb. But before bringing on the running pioneer, the ladies chat about the Little Rock Marathon weekend and how Sarah “crushed” on the capital of Arkansas.
[audio:http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/podcasts.pagatim.fm/shows/amr/amr_031614.mp3]If you’re digging our podcasts, we’d be super-grateful if you’d take a minute (because we *know* you have so many to spare!) to write a review on iTunes.
**Also, the quickest way to get our podcasts is to subscribe to the show via iTunes. Clicking this link will automatically download the shows to your iTunes account. It doesn’t get any simpler than that!
The Most Important Mile of My Life: Ellen Casey
Ellen, after completing her first 10K at Zooma Cape Cod.
Friday, September 13, 2013 was Week 8 of the TLAM 10K Finish It plan. I was looking forward to spending the weekend with my daughter at Zooma Cape Cod in two weeks for my first ever 6.2 mile run. I wore my running clothes to bed so I would “Don’t think, just go” when my alarm went off early the next morning for my last long run.
The phone rang at 12:30 a.m. “Is this Mike’s mom?” “I am calling from Yale New Haven Hospital…” “No one has told you what happened?” “We have Mike here … He has been in an accident … He was ejected from the vehicle … He has some injuries …”
Mike is 18 and the youngest of our four kids. We made our way to the hospital and were kept in the waiting room until he was stabilized. Is this finally the test I have avoided all these years?
The night was long; Mike had a large hematoma on his head, a seizure and large blood loss. Miraculously, a concussion was the worst of his injuries. He was very lucky. He was admitted to the hospital. It was the first time I spent the night in the hospital watching over my child.
When he was discharged on Sunday, I was wearing the same running outfit I wore to bed on Friday night. I got him home and settled in, and then I took off to get in my run.
The most important mile of my life was down Blue Hills Road, past an apple orchard to the corner where my son was ejected from a truck driven by a reckless teenager and survived.
That mile was the most important mile of my life as I ran and sobbed toward the place in the road where there could have had a very different outcome. I cannot count the number of times we were told in the hospital how lucky Mike was. The doctors and nurses know this first-hand. That mile was one of the most emotional of my life as I returned home knowing I am stronger than I thought, and how deeply grateful I am for my husband and my four healthy, strong, and happy children.
The corner where Mike was in an accident–and lived.
What was (or will be) the most important mile of your life? We want to know.
We’re going to make this an ongoing feature on the website (and potentially include some important miles in our yet-to-be-named third book, out in spring of 2015). Best way to submit is to email us your story with a picture: runmother {at} gmail {dot} com with “Most Important Mile” in the subject line. Please try to keep your mile stories under 300 words. Thank you!
#100: The Hundredth Episode Special!
Selfies of the mother runners–Sarah, left, and Dimity, right–snapped while recording this landmark podcast.
Sarah and Dimity never dreamt they’d reach this milestone (that Dimity aptly likens to a 100-mile ultra-marathon) but here they are: episode number 100 of their running podcast! To mark the occasion, the gals revisit some of their favorite segments of past shows, then riff on them a bit. Highlights include: Runner’s World Bart Yasso reminding us all to, “never take a finish line for granted; pro runner (and new mom) Lauren Fleshman beautifully telling us to be open to success and to dwell on positivity; and Sarah instructing Dimity to own her athletic efforts. Laughter also abounds in this episode, from anecdotes old and new of “free balling” and Dimity’s “God Bless Central Park South!” exclamation from her first marathon. And, pssst, find out a few running-related items Dimity keeps in her special wooden memory box.
[audio:http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/podcasts.pagatim.fm/shows/amr/amr_030914.mp3]If you’re digging our podcasts, we’d be super-grateful if you’d take a minute (because we *know* you have so many to spare!) to write a review on iTunes.
**Also, the quickest way to get our podcasts is to subscribe to the show via iTunes. Clicking this link will automatically download the shows to your iTunes account. It doesn’t get any simpler than that!
Martini Fridays: The Fridge Door + More
- Both literally and metaphorically, this is what my brain has dubbed the “fridge door” installment of Martini Fridays.
Adrienne Martini continues to entertain and put in her miles as she ramps up for the Pittsburgh Half-Marathon. Catch up with her running here.
This is my actual fridge door. It’s where a lot of life’s flotsam winds up, like the rough list of meals we’re having this week or the school’s monthly lunch menu, which is on the other door, along with some kid art. The golf ball magnets are my husband’s and are freakishly strong. (The magnets, that is, not my husband.) Those three comic strips have been with us through a few moves and still tickle me.
Years ago, during an extra long airport layover, I decided to start buying a magnet from every new place I visit, provided that place is big enough to have a magnet made for it. When I stand in front of the refrigerator desperately trying to remember what I was going to get out of it, I can look at all of the places and reminisce, which takes my mind off of the fact that I don’t know if I meant to put something in the chiller or take something out.
True story: I frequently find myself putting a dog toy or the kids’ lunch box trash in there, just because that is what happened to be in my hand when I walked past. Those are the times when I’m extra glad I’m not on a reality show.
In my own defense, I don’t know that anyone looks great in early January in Eastern Europe. However, it was my dumpling-like silhouette that finally forced me to run, bless its heart. I love it retroactively for that.
Although in some ways, blogging about your life is a little bit reality show-esque, in that when you mention an embarrassing picture that you have lost track of, the taker of that picture makes a point to find it.
In the spirit of catching up with points made, then dropped, in previous posts, I’ve set up a go fund me site for those who’d like to contribute to Postpartum Progress in support of my journey, both towards the Pittsburgh Half-Marathon and out of my own postpartum depression. If you have a few dollars to spare, I know they will be put to good use.
On a less serious note, you all have offered so many great ideas for fun workouts, like Wii games or indoor roller skating. Trampoline aerobics sound both awesome and terrifying, like skydiving or being trapped in a clown car. I’m still not sure what I’ll do during that extra week I accidentally programmed into my plan but after this week’s eight miles with a 10 minute strong finish (which was strong until I hit the big hill up to my house), I’m thinking that I’ll hold a repeat of week 7 in reserve until later in March. It’s also not outside the realm of possibility that I’ll wind up getting the dread lurgy that my students are passing around and will need my “spare” week to deal with all of the phlegm.
Finally, my favorite (today, that is) fridge magnet.
It perfectly sums up how I keep finding myself doing awesome things like training for a half-marathon. But this willingness to embrace the crazy is double-edged; I keep bumping up against the reality that energy is finite. This blind spot has been a feature rather than a bug for most of my adult life. But I do have limits and sometimes I have to let something go.
No worries. It won’t be this blog or the half-marathon.
I’ve been working a few hours per week at my local bookstore for a few years. It’s a job I love because it’s fun to just go hang out with the books and the book people who wander in. I work with a wonderful bunch of women, too, which makes it even better.
My usual schedule is one weekday evening plus Saturday mornings. But last Saturday, after being on my feet all morning and then running nine miles, I completely ran out of steam. By the evening, I was just a mom lump on the couch who wanted to talk to my children but could only mumble and sip my NUUN.
Last Friday, I had a small-but-intense freak-out about the much, much longer Saturday runs coming up. While I’m mostly comfortable with my slow miles, they do mean that double-digit runs will eat up a fair bit of time. And time is the one thing always in short supply.
My weekdays are all about logistics, and I swear that most mother runners could route UPS trucks better than computers can. Increasingly, my Sundays are, too, since we seem to tumble from church to my daughter’s riding lessons to Scouts to work prep. I just needed one day where my biggest commitment is getting the run in.
The Toad’s owner, who is also a mom and a runner, is a) amazing and b) understanding. Until my race is run, I’m off of the weekend rotation. I’ll miss it, truth be told, but am learning to prioritize. Maybe that should be on its own magnet.
So what’s on your fridge door — either real or imagined — this week?