March 2015

Tales From Another Mother Runner Thursday: Alison Overholt

Alison Overholt final board

To celebrate our first four stops on the Tales From Another Mother Runner Tour (#TAMRTour for short…TAMR rhymes with BAMR, btw), we’re going to profile four essayists on the East Coast who are going to be celebrating with us in person. 

A few things before we get to Alison Overholt, who was a recent guest on our podcast. 

—Tonight is our last night on the right coast before we head home. (BTW, thanks for three amazing nights, and for ordering the stellar weather!) Nicole Blades and Alison Overholt will join us in West Hartford, CT tonight, March 12. (RSVP here!)

Finally, if you can’t join us, but have purchased and found the time to read Tales From Another Mother Runner, we’d love, love it if you could take a minute a put up an honest review on Amazon, which, for reasons we don’t totally understand, is huge in spreading the TAMR word and helping women find the book. Thanks in advance!

 Back to Ms. Overholt mom to Maddie, an about-to-be-four-year-old West Hartford, Connecticut.

My writing and running history, combined: I often say that I feel about running the way I feel about writing: I love how I feel when I’m done. 

I started my career as a writer for Fast Company, and have continued writing professionally for the last 15+ years. But about 5 years in I switched gears to become an editor, choosing to mostly shape others’ words and writing only when I was really moved to do so – mostly profiles of incredible women or features about issues surround women in business or in the culture, for magazines including Fortune, Fast Company and MORE. I’ve contributed to one other book anthology of essays.

But my current job is Editor-in-Chief of espnW, ESPN’s platform that focuses specifically on women—stories of women athletes, writing by women sports journalists, sports from a woman’s point of view. I look for new voices every day, hoping to bring even more women into the sports conversation.

Writing is hard. You have to want to stare at that blank page, find that narrative, spend those hours revising and polishing until it’s just right. Which is why I feel exactly the same about running as I do about writing. I’ve started and stopped so many times over the years, but I know I will always come back to it. Each time I go out the door, I have to recommit to loving putting each foot in front of the other. Just as each time I stare at my blank screen, I have to recommit to writing that first word, and then the next. It never gets easier for me.

My essay, “I Dreamed We Were Running” talks about how: Running became a way for me to process my mom’s death. Writing this essay was a way for me to realize that that’s what I had done. It was and is so emotional, it doesn’t matter how many times I read through it, I cry every single time. (If you want to read her full essay right now, espnW published it here. Take the time: it’s beautiful.)

My mom had that unique ability that most moms have, to say things to their kids that inevitably ring in their ears for all time. “You’re going to ruin your knees, Ali” is what I hear in my head most days. It’s what she always said to me when I went running. And then, “The things you do ….” In her head-shaking, slightly disbelieving, always critical, but ultimately very encouraging way …

About this crazy winter and getting in workouts: I am struggling mightily! My still new-ish job has me working all hours, and the last week I’ve been sidelined by pneumonia. But I’m doing better than I was last fall, thanks mostly to a treadmill that one of my New Jersey neighbors gave me (well, traded me, for an old elliptical I had) the winter I started training for my first half. It’s parked down in our basement, in front of the TV, and on good days, my husband gets Maddie ready for school while I hit some miles on the ’mill.

Recent memorable run: I got to go to the Running USA conference in New Orleans last month, and after a morning of pure inspiration listening to all those race directors talk about the things they wanted to do for runners like us, I took a 5K spin along the water and through the French Quarter. It was sunny and warm, while I knew it was blizzarding here at  home, and I just enjoyed every.single.step.

Next up on my running calendar: I’m hunting for my next half. I’m feeling a bit untethered since Nike cancelled their Washington, DC April half – training for that was the thing that motivated me through the last two winters! I would love to do their Toronto 15K, but that’s not ’til June. Maybe the Run Disney Tinkerbell Half in May.

Tales From Another Mother Runner Wednesday: Nicole Blades

Nicole Blades Final To celebrate our first four stops on the Tales From Another Mother Runner Tour (#TAMRTour for short…TAMR rhymes with BAMR, btw), we’re going to profile four essayists on the East Coast who are going to be celebrating with us in person. 

A few things before we get to Nicole Blades, who was a recent guest on our podcast. 

Tish Hamilton and Bethany Meyer will be joining us in Freehold, NJ on tonight—RSVP here! because it’s not too late to join us!—and Nicole Blades and Alison Overholt, also recently on the podcast, will join us in West Hartford, CT tomorrow night on March 12 (RSVP here!)

Finally, if you can’t join us, but have purchased and found the time to read Tales From Another Mother Runner, we’d love, love it if you could take a minute a put up an honest review on Amazon, which, for reasons we don’t totally understand, is huge in spreading the TAMR word and helping women find the book. Thanks in advance!

 Back to Nicole Blades, mom to a freshly-minted six-year-old in West Hartford, Connecticut.

My running history: I’ve always been athletic (gymnastics, track, general running around), but I started getting into distance running over a decade ago, and grew more serious and dedicated about running as a sport in the last 7 years—which includes running half- marathons, shorter races, and sticking to a running outdoors year round plan.

My writing history: My love of storytelling comes from my father. The man can keep you locked in, waiting with eyes wide to hear exactly will happens next. As for the idea of putting those stories on paper, that one comes thanks to my third grade teacher Mr. Polka. He was so encouraging and interested in all my dreamed-up tales. He made me want to spill out all that was brewing in my head. I went into truth-based storytelling right out of university, and have been a working journalist for 18 years, with editor gigs at ESPN.com and Women’s Health magazine and bylines in publications like MORE, Women’s Health, Cosmopolitan, and NYTimes.com.

But it’s when I sit down to write for me that I always come back to those imagined worlds. It’s as if I’m compelled to tell those stories. My debut novel, EARTH’S WATERS was published in 2007 (DC Books). But the big, crazy, exciting, golden, good news is: I just landed a two-book deal with Kensington! The first of my two novels, THE THUNDER BENEATH US, will be published in Fall 2016, and the second book should be out the following year. Basically, I’m writing this sentence from the moon. Be back soon.

My essay, “Taking the Title and Running With It” is: about ownership. Often we (especially women) feel like someone else has to give us permission or the license to own something. Too often we’re waiting for someone with more legitimacy or perceived authority to come along and grant us this thing we’re claiming. This essay basically says: False. You run. You’re a runner. Take it, because it’s yours already.

During this crazy winter in Connecticut: I still hit the road with my smart layers, although when the wind chill gets gangster, even I wonder what the hell I’m doing out here. But if the roads are treacherous or there’s black ice, I head to my local aquatic center to use the dreadmill. And recently I’ve started taking Barre classes and thoroughly enjoying it. Very good core work, which always helps the running.

One piece of gotta-have gear: It’s a toss-up between a hat and my iPhone, which I use it to listen to podcasts, track my pace and distance. Actually, on second thought, the iPhone edges out the hat by a hair. (heh.)

Recent memorable run: To be honest, the best runs have been the ones that started out with me dragging myself out the door because I’d rather be doing something else that cold morning. But once those first two minutes are behind me, I’m good. And by the time I reach the end of the run, I’m pretty much high-fiving and fist-bumping myself… But in my mind. I have neighbors.

Recent horrible run: I went out for what was supposed to be my long run on Sunday. The forecast said more snow was coming. (Enough!) I was 3 miles in when the snow came—early—and started blowing around. The streets got ugly quickly and I was running in the middle of the road dodging cars, so I moved to the sidewalk for safety. Big mistake. Ice-slush combo. I had two near-slips before calling it a wrap, cutting the run way short and heading home.

Next up on my running calendar: I’m mulling over trying a tri this year, plus sticking to my usual local 5Ks.

Tales From Another Mother Runner Monday: Adrienne Martini

Adrienne Board Final
To celebrate our first four stops on the 
Tales From Another Mother Runner Tour (#TAMRTour for short…TAMR rhymes with BAMR, btw), we’re going to profile four essayists on the East Coast who are going to be celebrating with us in person. 

First up this week is Adrienne Martini, who you already know from Martini Fridays.

A few things before we get to Ms. Martini:
—She’s going be at the party in Andover, MA (RSVP here!) tonight, and at the party in Syracuse, NY (RSVP here!) on Tuesday, March 10.
—While Adrienne has to head home to her 2 kids and 1 husband and 1 corgi, we, along with other writers, are going to be in Freehold, NJ on Wednesday, March 11 (RSVP here!) and in West Hartford, CT on March 12 (RSVP here!)

Finally, if you can’t join us, but have purchased and found the time to read Tales From Another Mother Runner, we’d love, love it if you could take a minute a put up an honest review on Amazon, which, reasons we don’t understand, is huge in spreading the TAMR word and helping women find the book. Thanks in advance!

Ok, enough from us.

My running history: I was the kid who got a doctor’s note so that I didn’t have to run the mile in high school gym class. Yet, I hit 40, saw a very round woman in some vacation photos, and started a couch-to-5K. Now I’m three half-marathons in and would be bereft if I had to stop.

My writing history: started in Austin, Texas, where I wrote theater reviews for The Austin Chronicle. Five years later, I was the Arts and Entertainment editor for a newspaper in Knoxville, Tennessee. Freelance jobs for outlets like Cooking Light and American Theater followed. Hillbilly Gothic: A Memoir of Madness and Motherhood and Sweater Quest: My Year of Knitting Dangerously, my two non-fiction books were published in the 21st century by Simon and Schuster.

My essay, “Recipe for Double Digits” talks about: My first 10-miler. It was  psychologically overwhelming – or it was for me, at least. I’d run 9.5 miles the week previous and should have had confidence that I could push through that last half mile but spent far too much energy worried about my legs exploding (or something) when my GPS clicked over to ten. But pushing through that fear and running that distance which leads to thinking deep (and not so deep) thoughts.

Writing Martini Fridays: has given me a deep appreciation for the tribe of mother runners who take the time to engage with my words. I felt their strong hands firmly push me through my first half marathon and knew they’d also support me if I fell. Plus—and this can’t be understated—the column gives me a place to put all of the wacky things that wander through my head on even the most simple of runs.

My corgi has never run with me because: She’s too easily distracted and we’d likely wind up in a tangled heap on the sidewalk.

Recent horrible run: One of my most recent long runs was seven miles on an indoor track, which was the less horrible option than seven miles on a treadmill at the Y. The run wasn’t so much “horrible” as “existentially crushing.”

Next up on my running calendar: The Pittsburgh Half Marathon on May 3 and the Wineglass Half in Corning, N.Y., in October.

Quick Note From Dimity: About That Essay…

For the past week, it’s felt like my whole body has been shot up with Novacaine. I’ve been numb, but not in the whee-it’s-go-time way I should’ve been.

When I wrote my essay in Tales From Another Mother Runner last August, this March felt so far off. Kind of like it wouldn’t ever really come. But the clock kept marching forward, and here we are.

The words that I wrote in the bright light and long days of  last summer are now in the grey light of this winter day.

And right now, the words feel like a smelly, scary elephant lurking around everything I do and think with AMR. That’s not how I want to feel around these parts.

So I just will put this out there: I was suicidal last winter. As I said in my essay, I’m not entirely sure I wanted to die, but for months,  my mind was completely preoccupied with the thought of just not having to do this depleting, exhausting, whirring life thing anymore. The essay doesn’t end with a neatly-tied bow, but I’m (gratefully and thankfully) still here, and I’m happy to report I’m a better place than I was last year at this time.

I sent my essay to my immediate family and a couple of close friends prior to publication, and the response was warm. A few, “I’ve been theres” and other insightful comments made me know I’d made the right choice to be honest and vulnerable. Last night, I warned a couple friends that my essay was dark and that I wasn’t going to read it out loud, but if they wanted to talk or email about it at another point, I’d be game.

Greeting me this morning was an email from a good friend with the subject, “Dark? No, it is BRAVE.” Her email went on to chronicle some of the mental battles she has fought—and continues to fight. I received a handful of similar emails throughout the day, and my mental load lightened a bit.

I’m not sure my essay is brave, but ultimately, I made the choice to put it out there in the same way I’ve guided all my decisions with AMR: Is it the authentic story of what my life looks like as a mother runner? And hence, is it a story of how the lives of other mother runners could likely look? Because as much as we all want to be unique individuals, the communal connection wins 90% of the races.

I realize now in hindsight, the hardest part of last winter wasn’t actually feeling suicidal. The hardest part was feeling totally alone.

I’m writing this post because so that when I meet or connect again with some of you this year, I don’t have an elephant so large sitting on me that you can’t even see my cute AMR. tee under its gray wrinkles. I just want to let you know that you can talk to me about it, if that’s interesting or helpful to you, but you obviously don’t have to. (You may want to have a Kleenex handy though.)

More than anything, I want you to know that when I sign a copy of the book, “Many more happy miles,” I truly mean that.

Both for you and for me.
xo

Tales From Another Mother Runner Tuesday: Bethany Meyer

 Bethany Board Final

March 3 has finally arrived!

Our third book, Tales From Another Mother Runner should be hitting shelves and mailboxes across the country today! (And yes, we kind of think of it as our third baby. Except that labor was last fall, and we’ve fully recovered, so now we’re all: Isn’t she cute? And that wasn’t that hard, was it?)

To celebrate the arrival, we’ve got another serving of Tales From Another Mother Runner Thursday, where we preview one of the essayists. While our names are on the cover, the book is a truly celebration of this amazing, badass community: not only does it contain 22 essays from a range of talented writers and mother runners, it has miles of insight, advice, stories, and humor from hundreds of you. 

Bethany Meyer (of Bethany Takes on Boston fame) has a great piece—and here’s a glimpse of it. 

Important Schedule Note: We’ve flushed out much of the information for our events for the first half of 2015. Check it all out here–we’re headed for the East Coast next week!

My running history: I grew up an athlete, but was never a runner. Running was merely a means to an end. Whenever my high school field hockey coach yelled, “18 minute run, ladies!” my protests could be heard over everyone else’s. When my Dad was diagnosed with cancer in 2004, I grudgingly began running to manage my stress. I ran each day of his treatment and offered up every step to his health. Once his treatment had ended, running was no longer a means to an end. It was an integral part of my routine, and it has been ever since.

My writing history: Stories are my thing. I love to read them, I love to tell them, and I recently realized that I love to write them. My husband is a character. We have four sons together. We don’t have many boring days, so there is never a shortage of material. I started writing three years ago because no one in my house would sit still long enough to listen to my stories. I’ve continued writing because–just like a long run–it has become a form of therapy for me. Writing provides me the opportunity to process my feelings and embrace a creative side I didn’t realize existed for most of my life.

 Quick recap of my essay “Who Needs Prada? I’ve Got Coach.”: When I found out I was going to compete in a Ragnar Relay as a member of Team SBS, I worried about how to train for it. It’s an unorthodox race. A friend of mine is a running coach, and he offered to coach me. He is a sub elite runner, and I am a Mom who runs to connect with my friends. And so that my jeans still sorta fit. Not exactly two birds of a feather. But he knows and understands me. And I trust him. So I hired him to be my coach. It is a strong possibility that I’m doing this parenting thing wrong, but I wind up doing a great deal of thinking for everybody else in my house. Enlisting the help of a running coach was like asking someone else to think for me. I loved every minute of it.

The merits of having a Coach: I get more value from my running coach than I do a gym membership. I’d tell somebody who is wondering to hire someone reputable and make sure you connect with him or her. Be honest, provide full disclosure, trust your coach, do the work, and enjoy the ride.

Gotta-have gear: Sugar free gum. It’s a must. My legs don’t move unless I’m chewing it.

Recent memorable run: A friend and I did a long run over the weekend. Less than a mile in, we spied an ice sculpture of the iconic Philly Love sign right in the median of the typically busy Ben Franklin Parkway. A mile from there, we were two fish swimming upstream against the Philadelphia Flower Show’s first Run Into Spring 5K. Eleven miles later, we bumped into the Northeast Roadrunner’s Winter 10K. It was exhilarating seeing so much activity around our city! We got a sense that spring is just around the bend.  Pay no attention to the snow that arrived later in the afternoon.

Recent horrible run: We are experiencing an icy winter in Philadelphia. Last week it forced me indoors for a 10-mile treadmill run. I like the treadmill for speed. Not so much for distance. When that treadmill automatically shut down an hour into my run, I felt like it was saying, “Outstanding, Bethany! Now go get a large Dunkin Donuts coffee and enjoy the day with your family!” I would have loved to have listened to that treadmill. Unfortunately, I still had miles to go.

Next up on my running calendar: Boston, baby! Do you think the snow will melt by April 20th?

Meet Amy Blake, a (slightly tired) #AMRinSaucony

Welcome to the first column from Amy Blake, our #AMRinSaucony. She’s going to post monthly—and we’re going to have a cool #AMRinSaucony contest on Friday, so stay tuned!

It seems like it was yesterday when Dimity told me I was slated for a blog post in March. In reality, it was three weeks ago, which seemed like it was forever away. Having blogged for a long time now – it will be fifteen years this May – I thought, no problem; I have plenty of time.

Feel free to laugh. Because as you can probably guess, Life happened. I got slammed with a ton of last minute “super critical” things at work. The oldest kid had school cancelled EVERY FREAKING DAY – it seemed like it, anyway – and sub-zero temperatures made the idea of an outside run a stupid idea. Add to that the general exhaustion from taking care of a new baby, which brings me to today: one day before the deadline, trying to hide on the couch behind a giant pile of laundry so I can have a few minutes to write down my thoughts in between requests for nose wipes and making sure the kindergartner isn’t giving herself a bang trim with the kitchen shears.

Here’s my story.

First, I’m a runner. Without turning this into a novel, let me tell you that I am not the girl you knew in high school or college who was the star of the cross country or track team. In fact, I deliberately avoided cross country in an act of stubbornness; I’ll save that story for another post! I was an athlete, though – softball and volleyball were my jam – and running was always in the background of my life. My dad, a former college athlete (football, wrestling, and track), was my model for fitness. In our family, he was the guy running on the treadmill and lifting weights in the basement every morning at 6:00am. I remember my dad running a half marathon when I was young. We’d even participated in a few “fun runs” together, and on more than one occasion I can remember him sitting us down in front of Frank Shorter running videos on video cassette, trying to get us excited about running.

Despite his attempts to get me interested in the sport, I didn’t bite. If it didn’t involve a ball or a bat, I couldn’t care less. But like a lot of us mother runners, later in life I realized I needed something to get me off the couch. There was a void in my life now that I couldn’t fill anymore with competitive team sports (cue The Boss’ Glory Days), and no, slow-pitch beer softball league just wasn’t cutting it. Eventually, I started running to lose weight and clear my head during a not so awesome period in my life. I signed up for a few races for fun and a friend talked me into a marathon (and then a few more after that).

I was hooked. Running exceeded every expectation and turned into something I really enjoyed.

So that’s my running story in brief. You won’t find me on the finisher’s podium, but I love the sport, the excitement of races, the buzz of the expos, and being with other runners.

My family: I live with my husband Scott in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, best known for the stupid amount of snow that falls every winter. On average, it’s probably about 250 inches per year, but the record is closer to 390. That snow is typically on the ground from November through the end of April. If you’re a skier, this is paradise. If you’re a runner, you pile on layers, screw spikes into the bottom of your shoes and deal with it.

I’ve got three kids – all under the age of six. My daughter, Sophie will turn six in May. Aaron, my only son, will be three in April. And Clara, the baby, is three and a half months old. Me? I turn 40 in September. As you can probably guess, I drink a fair amount of caffeine and don’t get much sleep.

So yes, this isn’t my first baby rodeo! And while in some ways I feel like an old pro at this—old being the key word here—I’m finding that coming back after kid #3 seems tougher than before. Exactly one year ago, I was training for a half marathon when I found out I was pregnant. I felt like I’d hit a stride with my running and was finally improving. I am definitely missing that mojo, and the challenges just seem harder to overcome.

Like what? Time. When there was one kid and I needed to get out for a workout, I strapped her in the jogger and left, or I put her in the bike trailer and got out for a ride. It’s much more complicated with three. My husband needs to be present if I want to get out. We both work full-time, and he often works late hours.

Plus, there is is the whole after school/pre-bedtime ritual that most nights carries on much longer than it should. Some nights it’s just not possible for me to get out and run. (Early mornings, which would have to be stupidly early, don’t jive with the baby’s feeding/sleeping routine.) Lunch time runs, or runches as we love to call them, aren’t something I’ve been able to fit into my work schedule lately, though I’m hoping that changes as the current school term winds down. (I work at a university.)

Next challenge: I feel wrecked. The physical recovery from this pregnancy has been the hardest of all three. I’m sure it’s a combination of a few things. First, she was the largest baby of all thre—almost nine pounds—and I’d dare say it was a bit of a, um, traumatic experience to my hardware.

Second, I gained the most weight with her – 40 lbs – 15 of which I’m still hanging onto right now on my 5’ 1” frame. Being a shorty, this is a lot of weight for me. (side note: Upon learning in an AMR podcast just how tall Dimity and Sarah are, I am even more determined to meet them both in person for a side-by-side photo opportunity.)

Third, I’m older. Even though I don’t feel like I’m closer to 40 than 30, let’s be honest: It takes me a little longer to get moving every morning. My joints make sounds they’ve never made before. There’s no denying it: I am officially entrenched in middle age.

My last challenge, and probably the hardest of all? Motivation. It’s just difficult to be excited about running—hell, moving—when it feels like fitness-wise I’m starting from zero. Current weather is playing a part, too. There’s a reason we all feel like badasses when we’ve finished a run in crummy weather: it’s not easy. Right now, every run feels like a lot of work and not much fun. Snow, ice, and freezing temperatures don’t make it any easier.

That’s where I’m at, which is why I’m so grateful to AMR and Saucony for this opportunity. The encouragement I’ve gotten from the AMR community through social media has been incredible. Seriously – you guys are awesome and we’ve never even met!

Also, I’m not going to lie: getting a load of running gear in the mail is a huge motivator to get your butt off the couch, even if the kids insist on opening the boxes and kind of infringing on your “this is all about me” moment.

I wasn’t very familiar with Saucony gear, so this has been a real treat for me. I’ve run in their shoes in the past, but after they discontinued a model I’d liked, I jumped around to some other brands. I’m impressed with the shoes they sent for me to try, and I’ll be sure to expand on that more as I’ve gotten more miles on them. For the record, I’m trying the Triumph ISO, Ride 7, and Peregrine 5.

The apparel? Um, there were a few touch and go emotional moments when I tried some things on for the first time (see above, extra fifteen pounds). Let’s just say some size exchanges are happening. (Thank you, Saucony.) But I’ve already found some real winners in their apparel line. Favorite item so far: the Bullet Capris. In fact, even though it’s too cold to wear them on their own outside, I wore them OVER my tights today on a run just because of the pocket on the thigh, which is perfect for holding my phone so I can listen to AMR podcasts, which totally got me through an icy 5K this morning.

My goal this year is to, as Saucony says, find (my) strong. What is it? That’s a good question. During my pregnancy, I thought it would be to run the same pace I had before I’d gotten pregnant, or to finish a particular race distance, or to simply fit in my old running clothes again.

And now? I’m hoping to find the answer to that question in 2015. This pregnancy forced me to stop running for awhile and let me reflect on the role it played in my life. Pre-pregnancy, I had become really wrapped up in PR madness and run streaks and obsessing over how my splits measured up to other runners on social media.

Now that the postpartum fog has started to lift and I can run again, I find myself in a place where those things I’d put so much emphasis on are not particularly relevant to my current running state. And don’t get me wrong – all the GPS pics and gym selfies can be good, fun, and foster healthy camaraderie and competition; I’m still a fan! But being unable to meet my former standards was really discouraging. Some days, I really have to ask myself, why am I doing this again?

Even though I like to believe I’m a very special snowflake, I know I’m not the only mother runner who’s gone through this, who feels like I do. So I’m taking comfort and strength in that. And when you get down to brass tacks, we run because we love it.

And I have hope, you guys. Because even when the miles are tough and I have to stop and walk more than I’d like and my boobs hurt and I have to keep yanking my tights up because nothing really fits right and my GPS watch auto pauses during a run because yes, I’m moving THAT SLOWLY, I still choose running.

So please feel free to gently kick me in the butt to keep me moving, and thank you so much for sticking with me. I’m looking forward to reporting back on what March brings. Warmer weather, for starters? Fingers crossed.

Check in with Amy at @amyupnorth, her Twitter account. (You can also follow her on Instagram at @amyupnorth, or on her blog Amy, up north.)

And curious: Can you relate to what she’s saying? What are your challenges these days?

 

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