July 2015

#172: Third Annual Summer Reading Podcast + Ultrarunner Author

FullSizeRenderThis special-edition podcast will keep you company for many miles. First up: Solo host Sarah welcomes back her longtime running friend (and book buddy) Ellison Weist to talk about great books to read this summer (and beyond). Suggestions range from a page-turning thriller from Stephen King to a moving memoir about a too-soon-departed love. Here is a list of all the books the ladies mention in this lively chat.

Then Sarah has a conversation with ultramarathoner Molly Sheridan, a mother runner of three and author of the memoir Running Past Midnight. A late-comer to running—she took up the sport at age 48—Molly tells how she jumped from running one 6-hour-ish marathon to tackling ultra-distance races, including the fabled Badwater and Marathon des Sables. Molly imparts wisdom for newbie ultramarathons, and she gives incredible advice for runners of all distances on how to get through the inevitable rough patches in races.

Along the way, find out what 1990s TV show Sarah is still undyingly devoted to.

*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. Many thanks.

**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: Could we not?

During this weekend’s ten-miler, I finally came up with my grand unified theory of what makes runners run. Yes, I know it’s foolhardy to try to describe an entire group of people with the same word but this particular limb is one I feel comfortable wandering out on. Plus, I can always say that I didn’t really mean it because that run was so hot and humid that I wasn’t really in my right mind. I’m covered either way.

My theory is this: we don’t run out of an innate love of the way running makes us feel or the time alone or the sound of shoes on pavement — although those are very nice — runners run because they are too stubborn not to.

Or maybe that’s just me.

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At mile four in a hot, humid run, I know how the meat feels.

After my disappointing half marathon on July 11, I’ve been in something of a running slump. Enthusiasm has been as hard to find as a hairbrush in my teenage daughter’s haystack of a room. For the past two weeks, when the 6 a.m. alarm has gone off, my first thought has been, “can’t I just not?”

But I have anyway, even though the siren call of more sleep has been nearly irresistible. Instead, I’ve channeled my inner Dimity, the one who mutters “Don’t think; Just go,” and run anyway.

This is the point in the essay where I should say something along the lines of “and I am a better woman/mother/employee because of it. Just look at how fast/strong/centered I’ve become!” But I’m not sure that’s true. I do know that powering through the last few weeks have been a measure of my stubbornness more than anything else. I simply will not let something as silly as an early morning training run beat me. And I imagine that, to greater or lesser degrees, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

It was sheer stubbornness that pushed me through 7 miles two Saturdays ago when it was hot and humid. That same mule-headedness pushed me through an easy 4 on the heaviest legs ever two days prior and another easy 4 two days after, when the morning air was saturated enough to chew. Was I running for the love of the run? Nope. Not even a little bit. I was running because it doesn’t get to win.

The same was true last weekend when the four of us — five, if you include our dog — decamped for the wilds of Southern New Jersey to stay with friends from college. I had two runs scheduled during our time in the Springsteen state: four miles on Thursday and ten (!) on Saturday, because Coach Christine seems to want to keep my double-digit run bona fides up-to-date between now and Wineglass in October. Or — and this just occurred to me — she wants to wear my legs down to bloody nubs. But I strongly suspect it’s more the former than the latter.

The four mile jaunt was relatively straightforward. I ran through our friends’ neighborhood, added a few laps around a nearby cemetery, where I discovered an older section where the headstones were all in Russian, then headed back. I misjudged the distance a little and my course was closer to 4.5 miles because accurate estimations of distance are not in my wheelhouse, even with the number of electronic devices I have.

Theoretically, I could have just done that route twice, added a mile, and done that for the ten. But I was itchy for something a little less repetitive and familiar. Fortunately, Heidi, one of the friends we were staying with, had trained on her streets for two 3-Day for the Cure walks. She also is handier with Map My Run than I am. I mentioned what I needed to do, she disappeared into her home office, then bob’s-your-uncle, I had a route.

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Five miles down, five to go. Note the Saucony Speed of Lite Short Sleeve Top, which I wear when I’m feeling extra paranoid about getting run over and/or mistaken for a deer during hunting season.

Even though I had a plan, ten was harder to wrap my head around, so much so that I spent a good part of the 24 hours before it psyching myself out. We drove the route the night before just so that I could pick out some landmarks for the turns. I printed out a paper map and tucked it into my hydration belt just in case my phone died. I laid out all of my gear — from Herr Garmin to Gu — so that I wouldn’t have to think too much about it.

And yet I was still anxious. What if I got lost? What if I got run over? What if the Jersey Devil stormed out of the pine barrens and ate me?

None of those things happened, of course. Instead, I got up, I ran ten miles, misjudged a turn but recovered easily, grabbed a glass of NUUN once I was back, then stood in their pool until I had the energy to take a real shower.

I can’t recommend that last part highly enough on a hot summer’s day. If you have a pool you can stand in after a long run, do it.

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One of my better life choices.

While standing there, I scrolled through Facebook, where I’d posted a status update about heading out on this run. “You are amazing,” Heidi had replied.

“Not really,” I thought. “I just had ten miles worth of stubborn in me today.”

If stubborn is the word I’d use to define us runners, which word would you pick?

One #FindYourStrong Marathon, Two Voices: The Run By Run for Week 8

 

The perks of marathon training in inspiration signs.

Some of the perks of marathon training appear on inspirational signs.

As they prepare for the Wineglass Marathon on October 4 using the AMR #FindYourStrong Marathon Challenge, Heather and Marianne, two long-distance BRFs taking on their first marathon, are sharing their experiences–and miles–weekly. Find all their posts here

This week we’re giving a play by play from our two perspectives on the Week 8 training schedule, which was the second stepback week.

Easy 3 Miles

AMR goodies help keep the mid plan blahs at bay.

We got a nice kickoff to the week with the arrival of the #FindYourStrong swag box. Marianne’s Ziploc of fuel is looking much fuller now.

Marianne: 2.7 miles, 13mm
I did this run on Tuesday as part of a group run from our local pool because one friend was doing a swim/run combo for an upcoming triathlon. I stuck with a different friend getting back into it and did walk/run intervals. It made me appreciate how nice it is not to be fighting to get back into running shape.

Heather: 3.0 miles, 8:56mm
To be honest, I barely remember this run. 3 milers are now so easy (in comparison to miles that end in -teen, anyway) that I can tick them off without really noticing. I do remember being thrilled that I didn’t have to worry about hydration for once.

 

Easy 7-8 Miles

Marianne: 7.5 miles, 12mm
This was the first really hot summer run in a few weeks. It was 79 at 6am on Monday with 77% humidity and in the 80’s by the time I finished 90 minutes later. I went solo for the first half hour, picked up a friend for 4 miles, and finished alone on the the mile between our two homes. Overall it felt fine, partly because I was carrying water. Have I mentioned how NOT ANNOYING it is to hold the Ultimate Direction bottle? I thought I was a belt only hydrator but this option has proved me yet again wrong in my assumptions.

 The B in BAMR can also stand for bruised.

The B in BAMR can also stand for bruised.

Unfortunately, my knee had started to feel weird the week before so I went to the chiropractor. I’ve been prescribed a diet of pre-rolling (see podcast #170 for more on foam rolling benefits) and evening exercises to strengthen my glutes and hips. Part of the issue was that although I was hitting my main muscles when foam rolling, I was missing where my IT band hits both my quad and hamstring, aka the angles. In addition, I was treated with some Gastron technique which helped, even if it is super unpleasant during the event and left me looking a little beat up, as shown above.

One whole page of training crossed off, though, so that's something1

One whole page of training crossed off, though, so that’s something!

Heather: 8 miles, 9:29/mm
As I titled this run in Strava, I think I’ve officially hit the mid-training CBRs. I planned a new route because even I (who usually enjoys not having to think early on a weekday) couldn’t stomach the thought of running the same old roads again. I remember reading a couple weeks ago that this portion of training can become a drag, but at the time I couldn’t imagine it. I love training! This week, on this run, I hit the wall emotionally. I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t enjoy doing it, but I got it done.

Cross Train or Rest

Marianne
I chose to cross train on Tuesday night with 25 minutes of strength training followed by a few minutes of yoga and stretching. I claimed in the 1st trimester recap that I needed to get the strength training back (and clearly my knees and chiropractor agree) and this was my second session since then.

Heather
See above re: not wanting to do it and not enjoying it. I tricked myself into getting it done by allowing myself to take it down to 2 sets of each circuit, instead of my usual 3. Something is better than nothing, right?

 

Hill repeats – 10 minute warm up, 4-6 hill repeats, 10 minute cool down

Marianne: 3 miles, 11:30mm
In true BAMR fashion, I woke up at 4:30 on Thursday to do this at 5:00 in order to shower and leave for the airport at 6:45 for a rescheduled weekend with my in-laws in Georgia. I was lucky to have a friend meet me. She destroyed the hill, I was neither a destroyer nor destroyed. That was good enough.

That hill training sure came in handy on Heather's weekend race.

That hill training sure came in handy on Heather’s weekend race.

Heather: 3.6 miles, 8:58mm
This was only the second or third time in my life I’ve tackled hill repeats, so the novelty alone made it somewhat enjoyable. I cranked up my running mix (the one that makes even me question my taste in music) and went to work. I did 5 climbs and was ready to be done, but my lack of tiredness later in the day made me suspect that I should have pushed a little more.

 

Optional: 3 miles or rest

Marianne: 3 miles, 11:20mm
It was humid and warm at 6:30am on Friday. I was glad for the short distance and that when I was going to do many more the next day I would have GU and water for company and distraction.

The whole weekend I was glad that I have the kind of in-laws for which one does not wish there were more miles on the schedule. Even though I usually say that trips with a child should be called “family adventure” and not “vacation,” I actually relaxed enough that it felt like the latter.

Heather: NOTHING!
Knowing I was heading into a race day, I took the opportunity to “sleep in.” Having small children, the term is relative.

 

Long run of 8-10 miles

sweaty and swimmy

 

Marianne: 9 miles, 11:45mm
What I wrote when drafting this post before I ran (yes, I write in advance): One perk of the outer Atlanta suburbs is minimal traffic. The run went just fine thanks to the company of AMR podcasts, fuel, and the aforementioned handheld water bottle.

What actually happened: Weather.com was not lying that the humidity was 100%. Yet it was not raining. Previously, I was unaware such a combination was possible. I was so very slow the first two miles and epically sweaty by the end. When peeling off my shirt and capris, I noted they felt as if I had been running in the rain.

This run made me appreciate the following:

1. Perhaps normally I am not naturally high on the prone to sweat scale

2. NJ summers could be so much worse

3. My in-laws have a pool in their development.

I’m also giving major props to anyone for whom this is normal July running weather.

 

Representing AMR at the Moms Run This Town aid station in the middle of the night.

Representing AMR at the Moms Run This Town aid station in the middle of the night.

Heather: 15.69 miles, 11:05mm
Thanks to a spur-of-the-moment agreement several months ago to pick up a leg of the Burning River 100 relay, my scale-back week didn’t include Saturday. As per Coach Christine’s advice, I’ll be taking it a little easier for the first few days of this week, and scaling back next week’s long run a smidge.  I’ll post a full race recap next week. In the meantime, I’ll tell you these things:

1. I love the camaraderie of this crazy sport so very, very much.

2. Single track is NO JOKE.

Rest

Marianne: Check! I think my fastest pace all day was a quick trip to Trader Joe’s after returning from the airport and getting Joyce to bed. I knew my week would go better if I woke up and had fresh fruits and vegetables in the house.

Heather: Roughly 1.5 miles, run/walk pace
We had the option of meeting our final relay runner and bringing her home to the finish line. It was a thrill to cross the line and celebrate all the women who ran for the team over the last 24 hours. The finish line mimosas weren’t bad either.

 

I don't know how I tricked the 3.5-yr-old into playing whatever game this is, but WINNING!

I don’t know how I tricked the 3.5-yr-old into playing whatever game this is, but WINNING!

In Summary

Marianne
I’m grateful this was a stepback week so I could concentrate on healing and getting strong again. Looking ahead, I see that there are 2 really long runs (15-17 and then 16-18) in the next two weeks and then it is a switch between really long and sort of long every other week until the marathon taper. Somehow that makes things continue to feel manageable.

Heather
BR100 could not have come at a better time. Just as I was starting to drift into mid-training burnout, I had the incredible luck to be surrounded all weekend by hundreds of runners showcasing the very best of the sport. I saw runners literally leaping for joy and others weeping with exhaustion. I ran most of my leg with a mother runner who has nine marathons under her belt, including a BQ. It was as though the running gods knew exactly what I needed and delivered, with a big red bow. I can’t wait to give you the full report next week, and in the meantime, I’m going to get back out there and hit the pavement.

How did your running week go?

#171: A Chat with #AMRinSaucony Amy Blake

Sarah (left) and Dimity showering some sweaty love on Amy Blake. All #AMRinSaucony

Sarah (left) and Dimity showering some sweaty love on Amy Blake in their Bullet Capris. All #AMRinSaucony

Sarah and Dimity gab with Amy Blake, a mother of three young children (including 8-month-old Clara) training for the Twin Cities Marathon and the centerpiece of #AMRinSaucony. Laugh along as Amy tells of not knowing how long a marathon was when she agreed to run her first one, and listen to Amy talk about training for marathon #10, and why 26.2 is her favorite race distance. Talk turns to heart rate training, which Amy is giving a go for this training cycle. Dimity draws out the secret of Amy’s exercise consistency. And, oh, no she didn’t: Amy utters the word, “jog” on the podcast!

And here are the two books Amy mentions in podcast: Believe Training Journal and Heart Monitor Training for the Compleat Idiot. (Book is British, thus the U.K. spelling variation.)

*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. Many thanks.

**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

One #FindYourStrong Marathon, Two Voices: ENOUGH, Part 2

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Henry and Juniper practice independence

As they prepare for the Wineglass Marathon on October 4 using the AMR #FindYourStrong Marathon Challenge, Heather and Marianne, two long-distance BRFs taking on their first marathon, are sharing their experiences–and miles–weekly. Find all their posts here

People talk about being a slave to their GPS like it’s a bad thing. Generally, I am and I like it. (Maybe it goes back to that whole “not having to think” thing.) But a few weeks ago I decided to take the handcuffs off and run by feel, vowing to check my watch only once a mile. The training plan had prescribed an easy 4 miles for the morning, and after my customary warm-up walk, I started cruising.

When I heard my GPS bleep at the 1-mile mark, I stole a glance: MacMillan suggests that my easy runs should be between X and Z. Nailed it. But instead of feeling pleased, I was disappointed. [Not very] deep down, I had hoped to discover that I was surpassing the goal. Because god knows hitting it isn’t enough. I had to be better.

Enough. Such a tricky concept for us women. As a young woman: popular enough, pretty enough, smart enough? As a businesswoman: strong enough (but not too strong!), feminine enough (but not too feminine!), driven enough?

And dear lord, as a mom: is anything ever enough?

A while ago, I had a few sessions with a life coach. [People, I can’t tell you how much I wavered on whether or not to admit this. Because honestly – is there anything in the universe that sounds more self-indulgently first-world than a life coach? Though, when I sheepishly confessed the relationship to a friend, she was puzzled by my embarrassment, saying “dude, couldn’t we all use a life coach?”] This particular coach specializes in mommy guilt, and we set about tackling the – ahem – mother load that resides in my brain.

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Let me just come right out and say it: motherhood did not meet my expectations. When you wrestle with infertility for 2 years, you have time to build up a pretty detailed fantasy of what it will be like. I imagined nourishing my gorgeously big belly with whole foods harvested during my afternoon working in the garden. (Reality check: Oreos after an afternoon spent napping.) Nighttime feedings spent blissfully watching my precious bundle nurse. (Reality check: “Are you f*cking kidding me? Didn’t he just nurse like 10 minutes ago?”) Days spent giggling together while watching bugs frolic in the grass. (Reality check: If I don’t interact with an adult today I’m going to lose my freaking mind; there is usually lots of swearing in my reality.) Due to some food allergies and general high-spiritedness, Henry spent a lot of his first six months crying. Consequently, so did I. On bad days, I reminisced about our DINK life in the city. On worse days, I downright pined for it and wondered what the hell we’d done. Motherhood was so. much. harder. than I ever thought it would be.

After a while, I more or less adjusted to being a mom. Friends and family tell me I’m a good one, but it’s never been a mantle I’m comfortable wearing, honestly. I love my kids. But I feel most like myself when I’m not actively parenting. It’s those stolen hours – a solo hike, a grinding run, a book in a coffeeshop – that fill me up and make me feel whole and human again. Unfortunately, when every diaper, Folgers, and cotton commercial conspires to tell you that it’s motherhood itself that should make you glow from within, that adds up to a metric shit-ton of guilt.

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Jess, my coach, approached the issue by asking me to think about how I wanted Henry and Juniper to feel. I came up with a list – I want them to feel loved. I want them to feel independent and confident… She then asked me to determine a few specific things that they needed in order to feel each of those feelings. And – maybe you saw this coming – it turned out that I was already doing those things. It was there, in black and white. Despite all my floundering and self-flagellation, I was already giving them what they needed. Even if I’m not the kind of mother than I imagined myself being, it turns out that the mother I am is mother enough.

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Despite my outward show of bravado surrounding this marathon, I’m nervous. Most of it centers around my time goal; when my 10:00 long run training pace feels challenging, it’s hard to imagine how I’m going to maintain a minute faster pace for twice as far a distance.

But consider this: just as I’m dutifully following Coach Christine’s plan for my marathon, Jess essentially helped me create a training plan for parenting. Whenever I backslide into negative thinking (“I’ve been gone three nights this week, I’m such a lousy mom”) I remind myself that I’m following my “plan.” I’m doing the things that I believe will result in the best possible upbringing for my children. Likewise, as I stick faithfully to this marathon plan, I will do my best to shut down those same sabotaging whispers.

As they say: plan the work, then work the plan.

It will be enough.

Marathoner-in-Training in Search of a Best Running Friend

#AMRinSaucony x 2: Laura and Sarah.

#AMRinSaucony x 2: Laura and Sarah.

Today’s post is “penned” by Laura Baughman, the Saucony 26Strong cadet who I (Sarah) am coaching to run Chicago Marathon. (This just in: AMR is going to be at Chicago Marathon expo, selling our merch and signing books!) For more about Laura, listen to this podcast or peruse this introductory post

Last fall, when I first started running regularly, I always ran by myself. I knew plenty of women who were runners, but didn’t consider myself one yet, so I never asked to join anyone. I was slow and lacked form, and didn’t want to reveal my weaknesses to anyone.

My approach was simple: I went online to map my routes, then opened my door and ran. It was never far at first, a few miles here or there, and my only goal was to keep running regularly. I enjoyed the ease of being alone, adjusting my pace or route on the fly. Yet one block at a time, one week after another, I gradually got stronger and built up my confidence as a runner.

Occasionally, I wondered what it would be like to run with the “real” runners in my neighborhood – the cool moms who would chat on the soccer sidelines about training for New York or Boston. I envied their ease with the sport, and wondered what it must be like to be so strong. But more than anything, I was jealous of their camaraderie. For them, running was a shared experience. A social event followed by a round of lattes at Starbucks.

So I opened up to the possibility of running with someone else even if it meant exposing my shortcomings. I began by joining a friend on her neighborhood fun-run onThanksgiving morning. I felt fast and frisky that day – there were 5-year-olds beside me, after all – and my friend took note. A few days later, she invited me on a run. We talked about “everything and nothing” (a phrase used by Tish Hamilton on the same topic in Tales from Another Mother Runner), and our 11-miler together seemed to take less time than a solo 6-miler. Not only did I survive, but I had found my first BRF (best running friend).

That was eight months and three half-marathons ago. I’m faster (and more social) as a runner now and can hold my own with the cool soccer moms. I’m even training for my own destination marathon in Chicago this fall. There’s just one catch – my BRF is now sidelined with a sports hernia and can’t push past four miles. What do to? Run alone? Find a new BRF? Training for a marathon is hard enough with a friend, let alone solo. The decision was easy – find a new partner, and fast.

The first thing I did was text Sarah. (We both live in Portland and had even planned to run together ourselves a few times, but of course she’s sidelined this summer, too.) Did she know anyone who might want to mix it up with a newbie? Another mother runner with a similar pace?

Nothing like a selfie to start off a running "blind date:" Sheila (in hat) and Laura

Nothing like a selfie to start off a running “blind date:” Sheila (in hat) and Laura

Luckily for me, Sarah did not disappoint. She introduced me to her friend Sheila via a joint text, and within a few days, Sheila and I had scheduled our first run. We decided to do 13 miles on a Sunday morning. I chose the course and offered to drive to our starting point. Naturally, I Googled her beforehand and found a few of her race results. (I’m human, after all.) She was accomplished – one of the ‘real runners’ who used to intimidate me. Would I measure up? Would my running gear be fashionable enough?

Ladies, I’m here to tell you, my first blind-date run was great. Sheila was not only easy to talk with, but managed to make me feel like her special little running sister, gently doling advice just for me.

“Your race pace is 8:45? Then let’s run 9:45s today.”

“You have to pee? Just go behind that bush over there. No one will see you.”

“You only brought two GUs for 13 miles? You may want to bring three next time. Here, let’s share one of mine. And have a drink from my water bottle. You really need to hydrate when you’re fueling up with gels.”

Sheila’s best tip of the day will make veteran marathoners laugh: “Be sure and stay off your feet the day before the race.” Well, duh, I thought. It seems so obvious now, months before race day, but I haven’t been to Chicago in years, and know I would have been out pounding the pavement to see the sights. Thank you, Sheila: This little tip alone may be my saving grace on October 11.

Yes, Laura sure *does* love that Saucony top and pair of Bullet Tight Shorts! (When you find the perfect summer running outfit, wear it a lot!)

Yes, Laura sure *does* love that Saucony top and pair of Bullet Tight Shorts! (When you find the perfect summer running outfit, wear it a lot!)

When I dropped my new friend off after our run, we talked about running again but didn’t make any specific plans. Sheila undoubtedly has other cool moms to run with, and is leaving on vacation soon. Her next marathon won’t be for another year so our mileage might not line up again when she comes home. But I have a feeling if I text Sheila in September and ask to tag along on her favorite hilly route, she’ll let me come and we’ll fall into an easy rhythm then, too.

Next, I looked within the AMR community. There are a handful of Portlanders participating in the AMR #FindYourStrong Marathon Challenge, and we’re beginning to connect online. I even scheduled a 5-miler with a mom who lives nearby, but she cancelled the night before, saying she had forgotten another appointment. We had talked briefly on the phone a few days earlier, and I sensed we might not hit it off. Maybe she had a similar feeling and her ‘appointment’ was a way out. That’s okay. Even with running, it’s not always going to be a love connection. Some moms aren’t comfortable with what is essentially “MWF seeks AMR for hot, sweaty affair.” Maybe I need a new pick-up line.

In real life, I’ve been happily married for nearly 20 years, so it feels awkward to be on a singles scene of any kind again. I’m an introvert, yet I’m marketing myself like a product. “Hey ladies. You don’t know me, but I’m the best kept secret in day-glow Spandex and sneakers.” “I’m a perfect stranger — let’s go on a run together!” Ugh.

A friend, indeed: Laura and her injured BRF, Kelly, who drove 2 hours to support Laura as she blazed through the Eugene [Oregon] Half-Marathon.

A friend, indeed: Laura and her injured BRF, Kelly, who drove 2 hours to support Laura as she blazed through the Eugene [Oregon] Half-Marathon.

Yet isn’t this the lesson running teaches us? That we are always evolving as athletes and people, and that we have to take risks if we want to reap the rewards? A year ago, running 10 miles would have been a major milestone for me. Now I’m training for a marathon. Where I used to run alone, today I crave the company of others. It’s all about pushing past our comfort zone.

I’m not sure what I’ll try next – maybe join a group run sponsored by a local running store or start up a conversation with the next mother runner I pass on the sidewalk. (Dimity tells me this recently worked for two AMRs in the Denver area who are now training for New York City Marathon together!)

What I do know is I miss my BRF, and I hope she heals soon so I can tell her all about my search for her replacement. It’s almost as fun as running with her.

Now we want to hear from you: If you have a BRF, how did you find her?

 

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