June 2014

The Most Important Mile of My Life: Jessica Pinkall

Jessica and her kiddos.

Jessica and her kiddos.

I was not born into a family of runners. As a matter of fact, I grew up hating to run. I played numerous other sports as a child: basketball, softball, volleyball, and gymnastics (my height got in the way of that one) and ended my high school career on the dance team. I had, and probably still do, the worst form when running.

My enjoyment of running was found when I participated in a local radio station’s version of The Biggest Loser contest. The trainer I had at that time incorporated cardio into our workouts and a couple times a week, I ran on the treadmill. After the weight started coming off, I really began to enjoy running.  A friend of mine asked me to run a 5K for St. Patty’s day and then several months later, a 5K at a local college. I wasn’t the fastest or most graceful runner, but I did it.

Most recently, I placed 3rd in my category – the first time I have ever placed for running! It was the best feeling I’ve had in a long time considering I had gained some weight back and just wasn’t ‘into running’ at the time.

I am fortunate that I have a great support system: a husband who will ride his bike along the route to take pictures of me mid-race, children who get excited when I cross the finish line, and parents who think I’m the best runner out there.

My new goal is running my hometown’s half-marathon next spring. I won’t be at the front of the pack, but that’s okay because each mile I run becomes the most important mile in my life.

What was (or will be) the most important mile of your life? We want to know.

This is an ongoing feature on the website. 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!

#114: Father’s Day Special with Team Maddy

Rick with family

Rick and his three kids with Maddy’s custom racing stroller.

To celebrate Father’s Day, Dimity and Sarah welcome Rick Van Beek to the show. A Michigan father of three, Rick participates in running races and triathlons pushing a customized stroller containing his 15-year-old daughter, Madyson, who has cerebral palsy. Rick tells the mother runners how he morphed from being a two-pack-a-day smoker to becoming half of Team Maddy. The father runner tells a sure-to-make-you-laugh anecdote of the unintentional hand gesture Maddy sometimes flashes as they pass other participants. And he also shares a candid response about what he’s gained from the 100+ races Team Maddy has completed.

First up though: Find out how Sarah and Dimity each played hooky from work this week.

[audio:http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/podcasts.pagatim.fm/shows/amr/amr_061514.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!

Rick and Maddy finishing swim

Rick and Maddy finishing the swimming portion of a triathlon.

Steamboat Springs Half-Marathon: 13.1 Miles for 14 Years

steamboat half pre-race

Grant and I celebrate 14 years of wedded bliss about a week ago, and this year—for the first time since we walked down the aisle—we actually celebrated beyond flowers, a thoughtful dinner, a bar or three of chocolate. (Rituals, it should be noted, that don’t happen annually…I have totally forgetten our anniversary more than once.)

Anyway on Friday, I dropped the dog off at the dogsitter, we left the kids at my sister’s house, and then motored west and north to Steamboat Springs, one of my favorite mountain towns. Although we were both going to run Steamboat Springs Half-Marathon, the weekend was far from focused on the miles—which is probably why I had such a good race.

And now, because I like neat little packages, here are…

13.1 Reasons I Had Such a Good Race

1. I left my phone off most of Saturday (read: no work, little social media, no stress) and just plodded around with Grant, just like old times. We did a short hike, we ate a long lunch, we spent time in a bookstore. I treated myself to Can’t We Talk about Something More Pleasant? by cartoonist Roz Chast, a memoir about her aging parents. Tough topic, but so insightful and good. I devoured it in a few lazy hours (read, drool, read, drool). Just like old times.

2. I did, however, jump on my phone download a bunch of songs from iTunes that I already owned but didn’t have on my phone and haven’t listened to in a really long time. Everything from Sugarland’s Stuck Like Glue—good anniversary tune—to The Traveling Wilburys End of the Line, a long-time fave of mine. Got really excited to listen to music during the race, which I rarely do.

A river as strong as my joy was this weekend.

A river as strong as my joy was this weekend.

3. On Saturday, we also drove the point-to-point course. I’m not usually one to scout a course, but Grant wanted to, and I had nowhere else to be. As we were driving by the foaming Yampa River and fields of baby cows and wildflowers, I gushed, “We are so lucky to be able to do this. So lucky.” As much as I try to maintain an attitude of gratitude in re: running, it doesn’t always come easily to me. Not on Saturday; my joy was ricocheting through every cell in my body.

One SBS 262 tee + 2 stickers, served up.

One SBS 262 tee + 2 stickers, served up.

4. The SBS 262 logo for the Steamboat Springs marathon; I had to pick SBS up a few momentos since she just kicked off Boston Training. I was so excited to find such deliciously perfect gift. (USPS wil bring them shortly to you, SBS.)

I can also buy you this, SBS, if you want to run your signature race. (She's not a fan of running at altitude.)

I can also buy you this, SBS, if you want to run your signature race. (She’s not a fan of running at altitude.)

5. We had a lovely, fun dinner with old friends on Saturday night. I drank more wine than I should’ve; I laughed like I needed to (true story: when you live in a mountain town, bears come IN your house); I breathed in the crisp spring air and petted their aloof cats when they’d let me. When we got back to our place at 9:30, I went to bed instead of worrying about my race number and the like. Instead, I set my alarm to give myself an extra 10 minutes in the morning.

Cows. So many cows. And horses. And buffalo, including a baby buffalo.

Cows. So many cows. And horses. And buffalo, including a baby buffalo.

6. When decibal-level-100 thunderstorms woke me up at 4:30 a.m., I decided I would run in the rain, if need be, and worrying about it any more wasn’t worth my energy.

7. I (optimistically) brought my sunglasses to the race, and the skies cleared. I needed them almost immediately. Gonna be that kind of day, I thought to myself. Sweet.

8. I didn’t wear my Soleus Fit GPS. I know the numbers can be a very useful training and racing tool, but I also know I get way too hung up on what the numbers say—and I let them dictate my mood. Not this time. I wore my Soleus Dash, a basic sports watch and hit “lap” every time I passed a mile marker. So I wasn’t totally running naked, but I wasn’t looking at my wrist every nano-second. I’d look down and see, “5:14” or somesuch and think, “Cool. I’m likely past the halfway point of this mile.” I didn’t know my splits until I saw the mile signs. When I saw them, I wasn’t too emotional because…

Image from my Strava profile. The three highest blue points were my short walk breaks; everything else was a relatively even effort.

Course profile from my Strava account. The three highest blue points were short walk breaks; everything else was a relatively even effort.

9. I ran the race tuned into my effort, so I knew my splits were honest and right-on. The first eight miles were mostly downhill, and I knew that could slay my quads if I got too greedy for gravity. So I kept repeating the same advice Sarah and I  give at expos: The first half of a half-marathon is all about taking care of yourself. Going at a very maintainable pace. Eating and drinking properly. Not letting the adrenadline and fresh legs get the best of you.

I didn’t really hold back, but I didn’t go for it. I wanted to save my legs for the 2-mile-ish climb around 8, and then see where it left me.

Over the race, my mile splits ranged from 8:28 (mile 10-11: the steep decline, where I did go for it) to 9:38 (mile 8-9: the biggest climb). I’ll admit: Solid splits like those are about the most stable thing I’ve produced in any aspect in my life in the last few months.

10. I didn’t let myself get caught up in the people around me. There were a few guys—one man in Born to Runish sandals in particular—that I kept yo-yo’ing back and forth. On another day, I’d turn it up just to put them behind me—and likely see buzz by me again around mile 12—but on Sunday, I kept telling myself, “Run your own race, Dimity. Your own race.” Music definitely helped with that perspective, by the way.

11. Extra wine notwithstanding, I fueled properly. I knew running 13.1 miles at nearly 7,000 feet would leave me, a heavy sweater, with a raging headache. I chugged bottles of Nuun proactively all day Saturday, pumping up my electrolyte levels. On the course, I walked through the aid stations and made sure I got a full cup of sports drink down my hatch. (And I followed SBS’ GU at mile 4, 8, and 11 strategy; the new chocolate peanut butter flavor definitely put a spring in my step.)

Cooling down post-race. (Powering up? Not so much. At least for a few more weeks.)

Cooling down post-race. (Powering up? Not so much. At least for a few more weeks.)

After the race, I drank another bottle of fruit punch Nuun, grabbed some PowerIce—frozen electrolyte-rich bars—and had a sugar-free, crazy-packed-with-protein-and-natural-healing-ingredients  Superhero Smoothie from Joose, a local company.

12. I hung tough. That last mile, in the full Colorado sun as we came into town on the main street, was not fun. Unlike the previous 12 miles, I looked at my watch at least 20 times; my plan was to get five minutes into the mile, then try to run harder.

So No dice on the “harder” part until I knew I had less than 100 steps to the finish line. (It’s one of those finish lines on a straight road that you can see for way too long…seems to be a signature of mountain town races.) Anyway, I looked down, saw 1:59:16, and decided I had to shoot for sub-2 hours. I fired those jets up and finished in 1:59:46.

“You looked so strong at the finish,” Grant said, “Did you run the whole mile that way?”

“So far from it,” I laughed. (Here’s hoping I had enough energy to smile for a good finish line pic.)

(And if you’re going to ask if we ever run together, we don’t. Tried it twice, and it wasn’t pretty either time.)

Postcard for running.

Stop drooling and run Steamboat! (In my dreams, I’m moving there next week.)

13. My entire race, minus the last mile, was a delicious round-up of memories. Everything from our first hike with Amelia when she was Bjorn-sized to the time our bassett hound ate an entire pineapple, leaves, spines, and all. Around mile 11, I started thinking about the parallels between marriage and running. It’s probably worth a book, but here’s the quick and dirty: Both are incredibly freakin’ hard, and both are incredibly worth it.

.1. And as I ran in a cool shadow with wildflowers on the road next to me and a raging river nearby, I realized, yet again, how lucky to be able to run—and how lucky I am to have my dear Grant waiting for me at the finish line.

#113: Questions and Answers

Ultimate-Chocolate-Cake-e1341683346531

Listening to this podcast all the way through may make you crave this.

On this week’s running podcast, Sarah and Dimity dive into a new batch of questions culled from the AMR Facebook page. The mother runners steer Emily away from potato chips and toward Nuun to satisfy her sodium cravings after sweat session, then debate the next step up—salt tablets. They dive into pointers for running while pregnant, then the next step from there: tips on running form while pushing a stroller. Along the way, they also weigh in on the debate regarding when—if ever—to try a marathon. The show wraps with perhaps the tastiest, most-fully baked analogy rationalizing the importance of a pre-race taper.

[audio:http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/podcasts.pagatim.fm/shows/amr/amr_060814.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 Legs and Tush Say “No”

Team Fitter Knitters activate!

Team Fitter Knitters activate!

Not sure what Martini Fridays are? Catch up on Adrienne Martini‘s mother runner tales here

My running life during the last two weeks could most charitably be labeled “directionless.” After however many weeks training for the Pittsburgh Half Marathon, I’m not sorry about my lack of focus.

The Burlington Marathon Relay two weekends ago was lovely. The race itself could have been a smidge more relay-runner friendly. The focus was clearly on the marathoners (as it should be, to a certain extent) but the rest of us ponied up some serious cash, too. The Fitter Knitter Relay Team, however, brought the party. If by “party,” you mean bacon at 5 a.m., merino socks, and lots of laughs.

Norma, our fearless leader, and I both had PRs for our respective distances. It gives me hope that there may be some speed in these aging legs after all. I’m still a little sad that my leg didn’t have patriotic drag queens. Maybe next year.

Also on my personal running radar this past fortnight was our Girls on the Run 5K. I didn’t coach this year because the day still contains only 24 hours. I did, however, volunteer at registration, which went smoothly despite my first year cluelessness.

My Tween after this past weekend’s Girl on the Run 5K.

My Tween after this past weekend’s Girl on the Run 5K.

And, of course, I had a girl who ran. This is her first year in Girls on Track, which is GOTR for the middle school set. My Tween was thrilled with her performance and is proud she ran more than she walked.

Rather than worry too much about my own pace and mileage right now, I’ve been directing what passes for my laser-like focus on getting stronger. Which means I should finally introduce you to Courtney Place, the woman who has been kicking my arse training-wise for the last few years.

 Courtney Place: Another Mother Runner and designer of devious strength routines.


Courtney Place: Another Mother Runner and designer of devious strength routines.

See — when I decided I’d like to be less spherical, I threw myself on Courtney’s mercy. She’s a trainer at the local YMCA as well as a college professor and mom to two. I’d been going it alone, mostly, with the help of the C25K plan. Once I finished that first 5K, I realized that I needed more direction if I didn’t want to hurt myself.

Given that I do really, really well when given instruction, Courtney and I meet every three months or so to change up my cross-training. Because I am useless when it comes to designing my own weight routines, Courtney designed two for me for this quarter. The first is called “Pure Strength — Back to Basics,” which revisits old favorites like “Bulgarian Split Squats” and “Superman.”

At our last meeting was last week, Courtney walked me through the other sequence, which is all about functional strength. The exercises have evocative names like “half-kneeling iso core with band” and “stability ball chest fly.” There’s one that I’ve dubbed “hell arch thing.” That name fits so much better than the name it actually has, which I’ve completely forgotten.

By bedtime that first day of functional strength, my arms ceased to function as arms and, instead, hung lifelessly from my torso like two pool noodles. The muscles weren’t sore so much as just done with all of this “being arms” nonsense. By the morning, they operated well enough that I could drink my coffee, which is really all I ask from my arms most days.

I shall say nothing about my posterior. Actually, that’s not true. The next day, my rump and hips and hamstrings felt fine. It was day-two-post-Courtney when that half of my body morphed into the complaint department.

Between the trip to Burlington, which was great fun but not exactly restful, and that session with Courtney, Friday’s six-mile run wasn’t the best run ever. My pace was sad. No matter how much my brain thought “light and quick,” my legs and tush said: nope. After the first two miles, I stopped fighting and decided to just enjoy being out on such a lovely day.

Which is a big leap in maturity for me, it must be noted. Normally, I’d do my best to make myself miserable about how my body wouldn’t do what my brain felt it should. Instead, I had a perfectly lovely run that left me refreshed. Well, as refreshed as I could be under the circumstances.

Soon enough, 13.FUN will start and it will be time to get back in the training groove. For now, though, I’m plan to enjoy my lack of a plan.

Want to join Adrienne Martini in the 13.FUN Challenge? Check it out here.

And more importantly, do you strength train? If so, how do you fit it in?

It’s (Marathon Training) Go Time for SBS

Sweaty selfie with Molly at the end of Sunday's run. My last unstructured, uncoached run until after October 12.

Sweaty selfie with Molly at the end of Sunday’s run. My last unstructured, uncoached run until after October 12.

As I sit here at my keyboard, I keep having to stop typing because my left hand impulsively returns to my mouth so I can bite on my left pointer-finger nail. Type-type, bite-bite, type-bite-type. Then my right middle finger nail finds itself between my teeth. Tap-tap, bite, tap-tap-bite-bite-bite. I know myself well enough that I only chew on my nails when I’m nervous.

So I’m trying to pinpoint the source of my anxiety. It’s not writing a blog post–I “pen” about three of these badboys a week. No, it’s the topic that’s tying my stomach in knots: the start of more than four months of intense marathon training. With a coach. In the hopes of re-qualifying for the, gulp, Boston Marathon.

Tap-tap, bite-bite, tap, bite-bite-bite.

And now that I’ve merely typed those sentences, I’ve adding in picking my cuticles. Now my pattern is more like type-bite-pick-bite-type-type-pick-pick-bite-type. Oh, good gracious, this is going to be slow going!

New Saucony sneaks (Cortana 3) to kick off new marathon training cycle.

New Saucony sneaks (Cortana 3) to kick off new marathon training cycle.

In an attempt to finish up in time for this post to go live in the six hours, I’m going to be as succinct as possible as I lay out my running-future between now and mid-October.

  • I’m signed up to run the Victoria Marathon in British Columbia. Once again, I’ll be venturing north of the border with my running partner, Molly, to run a marathon.
  • I want to run fast enough to re-qualify for the 2016 Boston Marathon, which means I’ll have to cover the 26.2-mile distance in less than four hours.
  • I’ve run 2 of my 10 marathons in sub-4:00, the last time being in October 2010. (Here, let me do the math with you: when I was four years younger than I will be on race day of Victoria Marathon.)
  • I’ve hired Briana, the same talented, savvy, big-hearted coach that Dimity used for her Ironman and a few other races.
  • I haven’t done any speedwork–other than a handful of hill repeat workouts–since early January. Bite-pick-pick-bite-bite-type-type-pick-bite-pick. Yet there on Training Peaks, the online training tool Coach Briana uses for communication with her athletes, is my week-at-a-glance workouts today through Sunday. Wednesday’s workout goes like this: “2 miles gradual warm up to 8:30ish pace/2 miles build to 8:00 pace in the first 1/2 mile and hold/1 mile ease off by feel/1 mile build your effort each 1/4 mile BY FEEL…don’t look at pace and go by effort shifts (slight) every 1/4 mile/2 miles steady aiming for around 8:30 pace.” type-bite-pick-bite-type-type-pick-pick-bite-type.
  • I clued Briana in to the fact I’ll be delighted if I can nail those kinds of numbers in a few months, but ain’t no way I can jam like that in a few days. Bite-bite-pick-type-pick-type. Thankfully, Bri replied, ” This is why the first few weeks are learning…Don’t worry…won’t take long to learn where you are at.”

And, with that reassuring email, my hand can move away from my mouth; the clench in my stomach is starting to ease. Time to stop typing, stop biting, stop picking…and start training.

Flexibility drills are part of the upcoming training plan. I'm in desperate need as Molly (pictured) is a human pretzel compared to rigid-me.

Flexibility drills are part of the upcoming training plan. I’m in desperate need as Molly (pictured) is a human pretzel compared to rigid-me.

 

Go to Top