Wings Make You Run Faster: a Tribute To a BRF Gone Too Soon
When #MotherRunner Dede Owens posted to our Facebook wall a short, bittersweet tribute to her very first BRF, who passed away suddenly, we reached out. We asked Dede to flesh out her thoughts a bit more, and she graciously obliged. Here, her tribute to Michelle Landrith.
Reading facebook posts on October 18th, I could tell something was wrong. People were using words like, “gone” and “tragic.” These are never good words to read. I soon learned that a friend had in fact passed away that morning, and it was indeed tragic, and she was in fact gone. She was only 46.
I met Michelle Landrith through the Another Mother Runner Facebook page back in 2010. I was searching for a BRF, and she was a mom who loved to run and would do so with pretty much anyone who asked. We agreed to meet near her home in Orange County, California, at a shopping center. Since we didn’t really know each other, we thought it was best to meet at a neutral place. As soon as I saw Michelle, I knew this was going to work. She is the type of gal who bounced when she walked; so full of life that she can’t contain it. Her platinum blond hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she was wearing a spotless visor. Her outfit, while I don’t remember it precisely, was no doubt beautiful and stylish; Michelle was a fan of Lululemon and wore it to perfection. I think I had on an old tech shirt of some kind and a sloppy skirt, but I was definitely inspired. We jokingly shared that our husbands (both named Ken) had concerns that the mystery woman his wife was meeting was surely a serial killer.
Well, clearly we hit it off and the rest as they say, is history. We ran several official races together, too: Chino Hills Trail Races, Disney Half, Pasadena Holiday Half–the gorgeous outfit there was a white Lululemon skirt–the LA Marathon. Now, I say “ran together,” meaning, Michelle ran off ahead, her pace much faster than mine, and I trudged along behind, bringing up the rear. She almost always stayed to see how I would finish. While we hadn’t run together much lately, our connection through AMR was still strong. I knew without question that Michelle would always “like” a running post I put up.
Michelle, sailing through one of many races with a smile on her face.
I also knew that Michelle would post about her running adventures, about her races, her running groups, the amazing women she had inspired to run with her, or join her at a race, and always about her darling girls. Her oldest is a high schooler who is shining in academics and sport, and her youngest is a middle schooler who is tearing up the cross-country racing scene with a passion that is her mother incarnate–and I would “love” them all. My first ever BRF (Best runner friend) could inspire anyone to run with her, and she would encourage them every step of the way. So many people started to run because of Michelle’s inspiration.
On that fateful day, October 18, I looked deeper into the posts about Michelle and found out the details of the tragedy. She had been on a 7-mile run with a friend. When they finished, she felt dizzy. Suddenly she collapsed. Michelle never woke up, and died right there. The word “tragic” does not begin to cover this loss.
The world did not only lose a beautiful woman, but a loving wife, and perhaps one of the most encouraging mothers ever. She loved to talk about her girls, her family, her sorority, and her beloved friends on her runs. We would swap all kinds of funny and serious stories as all BRFs are want to do. We gave each other advice. We listened.
My greatest regret with my BRF is that I didn’t make enough time to be with someone so wonderful as Michelle. My advice? Make time to be with the wonderful people in your life. Call your BRF. Go for a run. If you don’t have a BRF, make one.
One of Dede’s recent Facebook posts
I hear that Another Mother Runner has a great Facebook page, and you can meet some pretty amazing people there. I know I did. She is running in heaven, and I know those wings make her fast. I can only hope they are made by Lululemon and that she qualifies for Boston with them.
#233: Heart Rate Training Race Reports
Heidi (white tank), Alicia (arms out), Kirsten (yellow tank), Amy (w/hubs).
A special episode in which Dimity takes the reigns of hosting! Sarah gabs a bit in the intro, then bows out to let Train Like a Mother Club heart rate coach MK Fleming join in the party. One after another, Dimity and MK welcome three mother runners to recount their recent races after taking part in the TLAM Club inaugural heart rate training programs. First up is Amy, an attorney who returned to racing this year after a decade-plus hiatus. Amy details how HRT allowed her to cut three minutes off her half-marathon PR, despite being 12 years old and 30 pounds heavier! Next, twin mom Alicia describes how she ran nearly equal splits in her debut marathon earlier this month. Finally, Heidi talks about how heart-rate training finally allowed her to run a marathon injury free on legs that weren’t constantly sore.
*To find the Saucony layering pieces talked about on the show, shop the Saucony website, where you always get free express shipping and free returns.
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Role Mothers’ Marathon Training Advice (or For Your First Big Race)
AMR’s Role Mothers span the running spectrum: some are racing pros and have double-digit marathon medals at home, while others are just beginning their race careers. But they’re all reaching for something. We asked them for their marathon/big race training advice for anyone out there slogging through the highs and lows of racing prep. Read below and add your own in the comments section.
Sarah, the triathlete
Find your accountabilibuddies! (No I did not make that word up!) The actual act of running a marathon is mostly solitary, but the journey to get to the starting line will be much more doable if you have a solid support system. Gather a tribe of running friends who will keep you accountable, whether it’s a group from your neighborhood you can log a few miles with or a more structured training group. The miles will go by much faster when you have company along for the run, plus you’ll feel so much more motivated to get out there at zero dark thirty when you have someone waiting for you. Prefer to run solo? You can always request that your non-runner BFF or a close relative shoots you a text to nudge you when it’s time for you to head out for that long run. Because when you have someone to explain why you’re skipping your run, you’re more likely to just get it done.
Ashley’s sticker rewards!
Ashley, the beginner
Plan your weekly training out ahead of time. If you know you have sand volleyball on Monday nights, make sure you plan another time to get your run in. Also, reward yourself for runs completed! I go and pick out really obnoxious stickers and give myself one after I complete each run!
Melissa in September, gettin’ pumped for marathon-training (and football) season.
Melissa, the marathoner
Training for your first marathon can be all consuming, so my advice is to allow yourself a little wiggle room, and don’t beat yourself up if you miss a few workouts. It is actually possible to enjoy the journey and process of marathon training, and as daunting as it is, there is much to learn and appreciate in the process. Look for and savor those first time moments, like your first run over 13 miles, or when you successfully get your fueling down pat. Finally, take time to pat yourself on the back now and again and marvel at the fact your body is going to run a marathon. A MARATHON!
Pam, the grandmother
The best advice I have for someone beginning marathon training, or for that matter any race training, is to include some strength training two or three times a week. It can help reduce injuries.
Tania, the sputterer
Give your family a heads up. Let them know mama is training for something important! I found that family support is crucial. I couldn’t have done it alone, but it’s the most amazing feeling crossing that finish line!
Have any additional words of wisdom to offer to newbie racers out there? Share below!
Room on the Road: Start Where You Are
Today we are introducing a new bi-monthly column: Room on the Road by Denise Dollar, who you might know as the founder of Heart Strides. She is in the process, as many of us are, of struggling with body issues as she finds her way back to running.
“Just start where you’re at.” Dimity’s instructions echo in my head. Sure, write about where I’m at. Easy enough, but where the hell am I?
Crossing the parking lot, I yell back to her, “How many words?” Picking up on my surge of anxiety and excitement, she says, “Just introduce yourself. Start there.” Simple enough.
You would think this would be the easy part. It’s not. I’m not sure that I know who I am right now. I know who I’ve been, and who I want to be. Right in this moment though? I don’t know who I am.
Who I was in Wisconsin, where I lived for 15+ years: The mom of two kids, the oldest having been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at the age of three, and later on the Autism Spectrum. I quickly and unknowingly, fell into a pattern of ignoring my own health needs. Self-care was not on my radar. Never crossed my mind.
Who I was in Boulder, where we moved in 2011: I didn’t intend on running when we moved here, but about two months after our move I saw a photo of myself on the trail with my daughter and was surprised by what I saw. I started walking and joined Weight Watchers for the first time and found success. After a friend mentioned that running would boost my weight loss, I didn’t hesitate. I hit the trail like Boulder’s new running ambassador.
I trained for my first half with passion, and I admit, there was a little part of me that stuck my tongue out at the running world. Look! I can be a runner too! Running made me feel strong. Being on the trail gave me a freedom that I hadn’t felt in a long time and I was hooked.
Where I am now (besides still living in Boulder): Not quite back where I was before I started running, but in a familiar, uncomfortable spot. I’ve gained back some of my ‘lost’ weight, and my running has turned into a mixed bag of intervals, short runs and long walks. I had some health issues last November that kept me off the trails and my treadmill until this February, but by then I had lost touch with that passionate, excited runner I had once become.
Where I am today: Struggling. There, I said it. I’m struggling like never before. I’m also frustrated, irritated, a little mad, and a little beside myself.
The minute I get into my car my head is swirling with ideas. I consider pulling over and taking notes. Weight gain, weight loss, body image, running, not running, moving, not moving… eating, not eating, healthy, not healthy, thin, fat, strong, weak. My head starts to hurt.
Yeah, just start where I’m at, I think to myself.
I’m about 20 minutes away from my exit when I start thinking about eating lunch. With a few options along the way, I’m surprised that I want to go to McDonald’s. For the next 15 minutes—yes, a long 15 minutes—I stress about going, not going, fries, no fries, big mac, and no big mac. I’m craving it, but it’s not good for me, but if I eat it then I won’t crave it, but I’ll eat it and then I’ll be mad at myself, but if I don’t eat it I’ll feel like I’m shaming myself. An internal conversation I’m all too familiar with.
Welcome to my world.
I swerve into the right lane, the lane that will take me there. I’m tempted to drive past the entrance; by then my internal battle has blown up to epic proportions and it just feels ridiculous to me.
I turn the corner, pull into the parking lot and see one of the workers outside smoking a cigarette. That’s it, I can’t eat here, I think to myself. But my car ends up in the drive-thru line. I’m waiting for the person ahead of me to finish ordering. I think about how the food will taste. I think about how it’s been about a year since I’ve eaten at a McDonald’s, and wonder why now? What am I really craving? I think about how crappy I’m going to feel after I eat. I pull out of the line. I think about how good it might taste, that I shouldn’t deprive myself.
For god sake, Denise, it’s just a burger. But we all know it’s really not.
I don’t really want that burger. I don’t want a hug or a ‘you can do it’ either.
I just want the courage to be who I am right now, to love the body I’m in, to meet myself exactly where I am.
I keep driving.
This is where I’m at.
#232: “Stacked” Races: How to Run Multiple Races in One Weekend
This week’s guests include Tweedle Dee (a.k.a. Trisha, on top left); Kate (lower, second from left), and Jindy (sporting major bling!).
Sarah and her new occasional co-host Amanda Loudin dive into the mind-boggling world of “stacked” races: multi-event weekends that have participants taking on several races on consecutive days. Sarah and Amanda are joined by three mother runners who are veterans of these challenging undertakings. First up and fresh off her second running of the Twin Cities Loony Challenge is Kate Walton, who stresses the importance of tending to recovery. She recommends a homeopathic remedy that helped her legs feel (relatively!) fresh in a 10-mile race the morning after doing back-to-back 10K and 5K races. Next up is a laughter-filled chat with Jindy Garfias, who ran her first-ever marathon the day after running a half-marathon at Disney World as part of the Goofy Races. Jindy offers a clever way to prep for races in hot, humid Florida, and discusses why sleazy Halloween costumes work well for race attire. Finally, Chicago-based mother runner Trisha Muro offers a slew of practical advice, covering topics including massage, nutrition, hotel selection, and training. Two books Trisha recommends for training and race-day nutrition recipes: The Feed Zone and The Feed Zone Portables. And speaking of books: Before bringing on the guests, Amanda talks about her, “journal of crap,” and how writing is like running.
*To find the Saucony layering pieces talked about on the show, shop the Saucony website, where you always get free express shipping and free returns.
*Visit the re-vamped Mother Runner Store: All orders in October include a free #BAMR temporary tattoo, perfect for sporting at your next race!
*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. We’ve also joined the Acast podcast network, download their app to hear our podcast and many others like it!
Dry Martini: Closer and closer and closer
The current state of my training for the NYC marathon:
I was heading out for a morning run and my teenager asked me how long it would be. “Eight miles,” I said. “Oh,” she said. “So not too far.”
This is where we are now. Eight miles is no big deal. Neither kids nor husband so much as blinked. Nor did I, really. Any run that is under two hours long is no big deal.
I can’t even wrap my head all the way around this and will, therefore, press on.
I had to lay down for a minute after I saw this.
My official confirmation means that this particular excrement is about to hit the bladed, air-moving device. I’m freaking out a little, which I expected. But I’m also starting to feel like I’m ready to just do this already, which I didn’t expect. Some of that readiness is pure exhaustion, the same sort of feeling you have when you’re a billion weeks pregnant and welcome the tumult of labor because it will be a nice change. All of the running and planning and planning to run is making me weary. Mostly, though, I feel like this will be a very hard thing that I can totally do. Maybe not quickly, mind, and maybe not prettily. But I can do it.
I know. I’m shocked, too.
My 20 miler on Sunday helped move me from the “there’s no way I can do this” column into the “I think I can do this” one. Which isn’t to say that it was easy to cover 20 miles with nothing but my own feet, a few bottles of water and gu, a couple of tissues, and a baggie full of peanut butter pretzels. But I did it.
What helped, I think, was that I spent most of the previous day at the New York Sheep and Wool Festival in nearby Rhinebeck. Yes, there are such things. Yes, they are more popular than you’d imagine. Upwards of 10,000 people go to the festival, to say nothing of all of the vendors and llamas and farmers. Saturday was a giddy blur, which gave me no time to dwell on how far I was planning to run the very next day.
Some yarn porn, for those who indulge.
I woke up Sunday morning with a sore throat, a sniffle, and a stiff shoulder, which were all remnants of hanging out in barns for a day, then driving for a few hours through the Catskills. Still, the first ten miles of my run went surprisingly well. The hardest part was to not start too fast, which my tendency for any long run. I should have “you can’t bank time” tattoo’d somewhere on my body where I can see it. Yet some deep recess of my brain believes that you can bank time. It’s right next to my unfounded belief that freezing the leftovers from a dinner I didn’t like will somehow improve them. Pro tip: it doesn’t.
I did manage to run like a bat gently meandering out of hell for the first half of this run, though, so progress has been made. The next three miles were OK. Not great, mind, and I was starting to feel like I had sacks of flour tied around my ankles. I was maintaining forward progress but only just barely.
At mile 14, it got ugly. I was hungry, bored, sniffly, exhausted, and several more of the lesser known dwarves. I started to think about just how much longer I had to go and how I was really only just barely over the halfway point for a marathon. There was not a little bit of existential despair.
I broke open my baggie of pretzels — I decided to try a different mid-run snack that had more salt and protein than Rice Krispie Treats — and shoved them into my face while walking and feeling sorry for myself. I’d been listening to an audiobook for the first half because gentle voices in my ears help me keep my start slow but switched to music to see if it would help. Some combination of calories and tunes and a very small hallucination about singing with Chris Thile helped me get my feet moving again. The next three miles weren’t fast but I made it through.
At mile 17, I told myself that it would be totally cool if I just walked the last three because it’s all about time on your feet rather than speed, right? But after I walked for a quarter-mile or so and realized that it would take the better part of an hour to finish up at that pace, I just ran. Slowly. Persistently. While clutching my baggie of snacks, not because I wanted to eat anything but because it was easier than wrestling it back into my pocket.
Then I was done and spent the bulk of the rest of the day on the couch while forcing my children to fetch things for me.
We’ve reached the season where I run through fallen leaves. The crunch-crunch pleases me to no end.
Here’s what didn’t happen during the 20-miler: I never once thought about giving up and going home. And while at the end of those 4.5 hours of running I was pretty sure I didn’t have enough umph left to go another six, I am also pretty sure I can struggle through this last miles on November 6 if I start the race on fresh legs. That’s my theory, anyway.
To sum up: my biggest concerns now are the beginning and the end of running 26.2.
As for how I feel now, a few days after running that far, well, I’m grouchy and tired but not too sore or broken. My owie foot seems to have gotten over it and I suspect the solution was switching from my beloved Brooks Ghosts to some extra cushiony Saucony Guides. That’s my theory, anyway.
By the end of this Saturday’s long run — only 12! — I’ll be really tapering. Plan for crazies.
This week’s question: what has been your longest run ever? and what surprised you about going that far?