#107: Time-management Tips for Busy Runners
During the holiday season, we all almost become a blur as we scurry here, there, and everywhere!
Happy Thanksgiving weekend, mother runners! This is a repeat episode we hope proves, ahem, timely for you during this extra-harried time of year. It was recorded in spring 2014, thus the intro chatter about a spring break trip. Enjoy!
In this week’s running podcast, Dimity and Sarah suspect you’re in the same proverbial boat they often are: drowning in seeming “must-do’s” and “gotta-get-done’s.” So they brought on Jill Farmer, a time- and life-management coach in St. Louis, to help unravel the busy cluster of mother runners’ lives. Jill shares some insightful, yet delicious simple, solutions on how to shed some stress and get more done in a day. (Including making sure you have enough time for your all-important runs!) We love that she even uses running terms, like “bigger strides, longer goals” as analogies for accomplishing more in life. But before the mother runners dive into the de-stressing discussion, find out where Dimity and her family went for spring break—and why it didn’t feel very spring-y.
Eight Keys for a Strong Marathon
Kimberly at mile 23, about to see her family and on her way to the finish line.
Kimberly Versak didn’t just run the Philadelphia Marathon last weekend. Despite every cell in her body protesting, Kimberly set aside her fears of failure and nailed those 26.2 miles to the wall..
“My secret A goal was a Boston Qualifier (BQ),” she says, ” I achieved it, even though I used a litany of excuses as to why it wasn’t realistic: a full time job, a 2-hour (roundtrip) commute to work, 4 children, a husband who doesn’t like when I’m out of the house for long periods on the weekends, my injury-prone body, etc… But that podcast. That podcast about fear and fear of failure with the mental skills coach. I listened to it twice. You talked how at some point you need to just put it out there. Try. So when I lined up at the starting line, I thought, ‘Let’s try. Let’s run 8:45’s as long as you can and then speed it up to 8:30s. That should give you a 3:52/53 or even a 3:50. That’s your 45-year-old BQ.'”
Kimberly, who was in the #FindYourStrong Marathon Challenge, ran 3:40:33 for a 15-minute personal best: a BQ for her current age group (40-44) and her 2017 age group (45-49) in 2017, the year she’ll run it.
You don’t have to be in the realm, physically or mentally, of a BQ to run your best marathon yet.
Here are Kimberly’s eight keys that will work for anybody taking on 26.2 and wanting their absolute best race.
ONE: I went out slow. In fact, my first two miles were my slowest.
TWO: I studied the course. Miles 11 – 25 were all along a river and out and back. I had read blog reports and studied the race map and knew that the stretch would be painful. I was prepared: I had my music geared up and ready to go once I hit the river.
A well-loved training plan.
THREE: I trusted the training. Unlike previous plans where I blew off the speedwork, I actually did the tempo runs (though I definitely took breaks during some of those miles). The only tweak of the plan was the days when we were supposed to run three days in a row (Thursday, Friday, Saturday). My injury-prone body balked at that. So I skipped the Friday run. Thanks to #FindYourStrong Marathon Challenge group, I realized I COULD set my alarm for dark o’clock and get it done. I began to crave my dark early morning runs. I hated going to work without that run. I strength trained at lunch. (see next point).
FOUR: I cross trained like it was my job. At the gym at my work, there are strength-training classes offered twice a week. They were perfect for me – lots of squats, quad, hip work, and I really focused on activating my glutes. I felt my glutes working working working during the run. When my ITB strained or my hips started to ache, I focused on activating those glutes, and guess what? This was my first marathon where I could actually bend my knee after the race. I also took a yoga class once a week.
FIVE: I carb loaded. I am sure I showed up on the starting line 3-5 pounds heavier than normal, but I was determined not to stress about it. (I wore black instead of pink on top as it’s “slimming.”) I started carb loading on Thursday. I know my stomach is sensitive so I stuck to white bread and white pasta and white rice and white potatoes. I told myself, there will be plenty of time post-race for high protein and more Paleo eating. Pre-race dinner was steak and baked potato; this was my dinner before all my long training runs, so I stuck with it for my pre-race meal.
I drank lots of Nuun and water during the day, even though it meant more stops during the car drive. The morning of race, I woke at 4:45 and choked down another large bagel with more Nuun and a cup of coffee.
No stopping until she crossed the finish line.
SIX: I managed my bathroom issues. I took a fiber supplement five days before—an idea I got from Yo Momma Runs—to encourage a gentle clean-out and ate bland white diet three days before the race. It worked. I didn’t use the porta loo at all during the race, not even when I arrived at the starting line way too late due to the long security lines. And I felt fine.
SEVEN: I rolled with the unexpected. Uber, my preferred method of race day transportation, announced a 3.5-times rate increase and a 16-minute wait. What?! I panicked and then chose my backup plan of getting to the race by subway. It worked well and I met some other runners with whom I bonded during the LONG security lanes.
Speaking of security lines, I remember other marathoners talking about giving yourself more time than you think you need. How right they were, I thought ruefully as I arrived at the lines at 6:22 a.m. for a 7:10 a.m. race. When the clock ticked over to 6:44 and we’d only moved about 30 people, I latched onto the guy in front of me whose friend told him about a security point on the other side of the barricades that apparently was open and free. We led a breakaway group of about 30 anxious runners to find that barricade, repeating anxiously, “22nd and Penn… 22nd and Penn” like some magical gate was going to open. Five-minute jog later, we found our entry point and were high-fiving each other like we’d won the lottery. (Note to self: At big races, don’t be a sheep and automatically line up where everyone else is. sometimes there are other options available…)
EIGHT: I stayed mentally strong. I dug deep. I ate pain like candy. I ate hills for breakfast. I said, “Kimberly is stronger than this. Kimberly has this.” Or “I get to run today.” “I’m so lucky”. “I feel good. My legs, they’re so strong today.” I practiced reframing my negative thoughts—something that made me roll my eyes during mental skills podcast: “Ouch, my feet hurt, but my glutes, they’re really firing.” (And yes, happy to report the reframing worked.)
I practiced two AMR favorite: “Stay in the mile. Stay in the mile. Stay in the mile.” and maybe my most important one, “ I didn’t work this hard to get here to give it all away now.” This “working hard” referred to both the first 20 miles of the marathon AND the past 18 weeks of training.
This is perhaps my most important mantra because I’ve been known to cast away my race goals like an old shirt in the later miles of race. When the tough get going, I start downsizing. Saying, well I’d be happy to squeak in under 4. Actually, I’d happy with a 4:08 and this is a tough course, and it’s windy. And I have bathroom issues too, oh screw it I just want to finish…
Over the 18 weeks of training, I practiced the mental toughness that I always knew I had to do, but kind of avoided. Until I listened to lots and lots of AMR podcasts. And read lots of and lots of race reports from the #FindYourStrong Marathon Challenge.
I had you all with me. And I didn’t want to let you—or myself—down.
YOUR TURN: What are your keys for a strong marathon?
What Would Another Mother Runner Do?: Body Image Issues
Perfect bodies, as illustrated in this Dear Kate campaign.
Welcome to a complicated version of What Would Another Mother Runner Do, a regular column where we tackle issues that come up when running and motherhood collide. The situation below—body image issues—isn’t a simple one, but it’s definitely a conversation many women have in their heads. The writer, K., wanted to remain anonymous.
I often do my best thinking in the shower…and the shower is when I’m second-most critical of my body, trailing only behind when I stand in front of a mirror.
As I stood in the shower the other day attempting to make sense of the collision of self-doubt and self-confidence, imagine my surprise when I had one of those mini-epiphanies that makes me rush to dry off so that I can pen a message to a friend while its fresh on my mind—and before I allow the self-doubt to keep me from taking action. (Enter a frantic Facebook message to Dimity, whom I’ve met in person only once but with whom I can so relate.)
Why are you, the tribe, reading this? Because while I’m my own worst critic and relish the confidence that I see others have in themselves, I realize (hope?) that under that confidence, many other women share similar insecurities in either body or mind, regardless of the root cause.
Where to begin? I’ve struggled with body images since grade school. While in college, I realized that I spent most of my grade school years being bullied for being chubby or smart. Or so they said. Truth is, I didn’t fit into any of the preexisting social circles and didn’t have the strength to fight back.
Outwardly I’m far more confident these days, particularly in my role of wife, mother, and employee. Until those moments when I’m alone and the doubt creeps back. Those foundational years in our youths can be a bitch. How do you escape them? It always amazes me when I share with someone my lack of self-confidence or body insecurities, they’re surprised I have them—or they tell me I’m being crazy.
Part of me knows they are right. On good days I whole heartedly believe that I’ve been exceedingly fortunate and blessed in my life. I have a good career, nice house, an amazing husband, two awesome sons, caring family and friends. Seriously, I’ve got nothing to complain about.
[PHOTO GALLERY: What a Mother Runner Looks Like, Part I]
And then I stand in front of the mirror.
Never mind that I work out several times a week, have strong legs and some definition in my triceps these days. What I always, always see in the mirror is the cellulite, and the extra five pounds that seem to be firmly settling below my belly button on my short-waisted frame. I see what my mother most likely always saw staring back at her. (I can only guess because I never saw my mother when she wasn’t dressed in something below the knee. Also guessing I inherited not just the cellulite genetics, but also the misplaced insecurities from her.)
So while I was in the shower on Saturday, pondering once again how I ought to tackle the ten-pound yo-yo my weight does annually, I had a random stream of thoughts.
If I had a daughter, I would want to foster her to not have these same self doubts…My husband thinks I’m nuts to be insecure and he loves my body: Why can’t I?…I’ve had two children and am almost 40, yet I hold myself to the same physical standard I wanted to reach when I was 20 and hadn’t birthed two awesome boys…But I know so many who have birthed children and have rocking bodies…Why isn’t that me?…But the grass isn’t always greener… And after all some of it is simply genetic…And my boys: How can I somehow take my observations of my own insecurities and impart some wisdom to my sons?…Drew Barrymore has a great perspective…She’s comfortable in her skin and the changes to her body, post-babies…I want that for myself…I want to be ok with who I am and the choices that I make, being realistic in my expectations but not complacent to make excuses to allow me to be less than what I am capable of… Living a fit and active lifestyle and a good role model for my children even if I don’t look as good as I perceive “her” (whomever she is) to be.
[PHOTO GALLERY: What a Mother Runner Looks Like, Part II]
Heavy stuff for just trying to get ready for a date with my husband. But I sense I’m not alone. I sense that while we as women put on a happy face for most others, deep down we all deal with our own insecurities. We often don’t talk in terms of our insecurities because then we fear others may view it as whining or complaining or seeking attention.
As I approach 40, I have found that while my insecurities don’t go away, I am able to mentally stuff them away for longer stretches. Then my six-year-old comments while we are cuddling that my leg feels more squishy than it used to and my mind goes into a tailspin. Part of me feels it’s pathetic that I let myself head to that negative space, and then I get mad a thyself for that, and the cycle continues. Sigh.
Ok, now it’s your turn to chime in. How is your body image? Confidence? If you struggle with either, how do you reconcile the body/confidence you have with the body/confidence you want? Any thoughts or advice for K.?
10 Reasons I’m Thankful for Running: SBS Edition
Happy Monday! A retro post as we head into Thanksgiving week.
On Monday, Dimity listed her top 10 (I suspect we both have far more than 10!); here’s mine.
It gets me outside and interacting with nature. I am happiest outdoors—marveling over vivid fall leaves, a slant of sunlight piercing through the clouds, and squirrels chasing each other up trees—and running allows me be a part of the great outdoors on a nearly daily basis.
Only a running friend would let me act this goofy (doing my worst Miley Cyrus imitation)
It gives me a built-in social outlet. My friendship with my running buddies—currently Molly, Ellison, and Sheila, but in the past it’s been Heidi, Dorothy, and others—wouldn’t be nearly as rich and deep if we’d fostered our relationships over occasional coffee dates or a rare dinner out.
It gives me an “excuse” to get out of the house. While I have free will, I don’t leave my family for two or three hours on a weekend morning to have brunch with a friend or get a facial. (Well, okay, this Sunday I am going to a Korean spa with Ellison…) Yet I don’t think twice about locking the door behind me when I have 14 miles on tap.
It gives me a reason to travel. I’ve explored some wondrous places by foot, especially during marathons. The Twin Cities. “Tracktown USA.” Big Sur. Vancouver, B.C. New York’s five boroughs. The roads from Hopkinton, MA, to Boston.
It’s a point of pride. I’m not winning any races—or even my age group—but I’m crossing finish lines. And racking up miles in training to get there.
In St. Louis, talking to one of our youngest Mother Runner party guests–and his mother.
It allows me to interact with women across the country (and globe!). Whether in my AMR role at parties or expos or simply socially on Facebook, I adore chatting with women from all walks (runs?) of life. Often the talk turns to things other than our sport (today it was the craft of felting with Denise in Colorado), and that’s just fine by me: Running gives us a common conversational starting point.
It lets me eat a Milky Way Midnight after dinner or Noosa full-fat Australian-style yoghurt (my current addiction). I don’t keep a tally of calories in/calories out, but I certainly know I’d eat a more Spartan diet if I was incinerating 100 calories/mile.
It gets me away from my computer. Sometimes I feel like my iPhone is a third upper-body appendage. Yes, I snap an Instagram photo every so often on the road or send the occasional tweet, but usually a run is time away from Internet-based distractions.
It tamps down worries and releases frustrations. We all have children or other dependent family members, as well as bills to pay: I don’t need to elaborate.
It makes me feel alive. With sweat coursing down my face, air heaving in and out of my lungs, and blood pumping vigorously, every minute of pavement-pounding reminds me I have a body that works. And, that, at the start of every day, is what I’m most thankful for.
What aspects of running make you feel thankful?
Did someone say, “Milky Way Dark?!?”
#187: Why—and How—to Join November Project
Suzanne’s 6th grade daughter getting ready to put the November Project tribe-members through their workout.
Sarah and Dimity enjoy a good gab with Suzanne Allaire, founder and co-leader of November Project Philadelphia, one of the tribes of a free fitness movement. This high-energy mother runner shares all the details about November Project, including why these free workouts (currently offered in 26 cities across U.S. and Canada) involve lots of eye contact and hugs. In between laughing with the AMR ladies, Suzanne tells how November Project workouts “take the work out of the workout,” and include moves like “hoisties” and “bouncies.” Dimity and Sarah delight that the founders of November Project were also a duo of former collegiate rowers, like themselves.
Before they are joined by Suzanne, Dimity shares stories of a recent run with Olympic goddesses Kara Goucher and Alysia Montaño, and the mother runners share movie memories from their childhoods. They also talk up the most recent RockMyRun-AMR mix, available for free on RockMyRun app using code CHILL
Suzanne and her daughter doing hoisties with gusto!
Dry Martini: Farleks and Trots
In the interest of full disclosure, I must mention that I have entered the sweepstakes for entry into the NYC 2016 marathon. Which is different from the lottery for entry into the same marathon, which I will likely enter if I don’t a) win the sweepstakes or b) come to my senses by the time the lottery opens in January. It’s up to you, universe. Be kind.
For now, it appears that this column’s name will remain “Dry Martini.” I find that quasi-ironic given how wet it’s been here lately. During my six miles last week, the skies opened at mile three and closed again about ten minutes after I squished my way home. My helpful husband pointed out that the whole drenching could have been avoided if I’d looked at the radar but he doesn’t understand my need to live on the edge. And, frankly, how little I care about getting soaked. As long as my phone stays dry, it’s all good.
I can’t say that any of my runs have been super exciting this week. I did some fartleks — I giggle every I hear, see, or type this word because I’m ten — last week. Coach told me to toss 6-8 30-second intervals of speedy-fast running into an easy 3 miles. Coach pointed out afterwards that I actually did ten of them, which meant I must have been feeling great. Because I’m all about relentless honesty, I confessed that, no, I’m not a badass. I just lost count after the first four.
Still, they were the zippiest fartleks I’ve ever farted so I’m thinking that the fitness I worked so hard to gain for Wineglass hasn’t abandoned me. Plus, now that my late-fall dread illness has passed, I can routinely bang out 12:30 miles without working too hard. Which for me is amazing.
How I felt after Wednesday run. At least my shirt looks badass.
I did feel like a badass after this morning’s run, which was five miles with the middle three at half marathon race pace. I’d been dreading it all week, for no explainable reason other than it seemed hard and it’s cold in the mornings. Once I got out the door, though, it went really well (if hard), which just goes to show you some life-affirming lesson about getting your inner wuss to be quiet. I’d explain what that lesson was if my brain weren’t so mushy after pushing through the last mile.
Perhaps the best run was the one I went on this past weekend. See, there’s a knitting retreat that I go to every year. And every year Lisa, another mother runner who turns up on this very blog from time to time, and I carve out some running time on Saturday afternoon. Rather than stick to our standard route — it’s lovely, mind, but who doesn’t love a new path to explore? — I found out that the Ontario Pathways rail trail started less than a mile from our hotel door. Off we went.
BRF Lisa and I on the Ontario Pathways rail trail.
The day was as cold as you’d expect in November in Western New York. The trail was sheltered from the wind, at least, and neither of us stayed too chilly once we got moving. There’d been a big pack of Boy Scouts and their leaders in the parking lot when we’d started. We ran into them on the path on our home stretch and they formed a tunnel of high-fives and encouraging cheers. If all runs could end that way, I reckon there would be a lot more runners.
Lisa knitted this hat, which she lent to me for our run. The silvery bits are reflective. How cool is that?
Two things are coming up on my race calendar: the local Turkey Trot, where it will probably snow because that’s how it usually goes, and the Austin half marathon in February 2016, where it probably won’t snow because it’s Texas. The Trot’s just for fun and to get out of the house for a little bit. I might try to PR, unless I don’t. I find it hard to really predict how I’ll feel on Thanksgiving morning, you know?
Austin, however, might lend itself to another stab at a 2:30 half. While my flatlander friend with whom I am running keep bemoaning the hills, they look significantly less daunting than what I face on a regular basis around here. As long as Voldesun doesn’t make an appearance, which is unlikely because, again, it’s Texas, I should be OK.
Worst that happens is that I walk the race and comfort myself with margaritas. And when that is the worst that can happen, well, it is a good day, indeed.
So how many of you are running a turkey trot? Does it have a cool name? And how many of your trots give away an actual bird?