Running for Two: Introducing Ashley, our PBAMR
Before you meet Ashley, just a call-out for those BAMRs running Grandma’s this weekend. TLAM Coach MK put a course preview together for all y’all. It’s here. Run strong!
Hello, Ashley here. Formally known as Role Mother and still known as BAMR, just with a slight twist. You can now call me PBAMR! That “P” does not stand for “pretty” but, rather, “pregnant.” That’s right, AMR community, this Role Mother is expecting! When you have one as cute as our Reesie Roo, how could you not want to try for another?
Ashley and her Reesie Roo.
Because he’d kicked some serious cancer butt in his teens, my husband and I weren’t positive we could conceive naturally to begin with. Much to our surprise, we were blessed with our Reesie Roo shortly after deciding to take the parenting leap. BOB, or Baby on Board, as we referred to her in the womb for nine months, now has a sibling, BOB Number 2 or B2. B2 is due in mid-November (or so) and we could not be more excited about the new addition.
B2 did not come quite as smoothly as our Reesie Roo though. My husband, Nate, is a member of Team USA’s Wheelchair Basketball team, which took him to Rio de Janeiro this past September for the 2016 Paralympic Games. The Paralympics run about a month after the able-bodied Olympics in all the same venues and locations. The only difference is these athletes have a physical impairment. The cancer that my husband conquered in his teens, unfortunately, took part of the bone in his leg, leaving him with the inability to run, jump, or competitively play able-bodied sports. This, however, qualified him for adaptive sports.
Having experienced the 2012 London Paralympics with Nate, I was sidelined from flying to Rio this round and watching him win a Gold Medal in person. Zika is real… and terrifying. You put two of us there, you double your chances of contracting it, which was just not a risk we were willing to take. Upon his return, we had to patiently await the test results to confirm Nate was Zika-free before trying to conceive. I like to pretend we are as cool as all the other Olympians who got pregnant post-Olympics, such as Gwen Jorgensen, however, deep down I know I am just another average BAMR from Wisconsin.
Olympic-level Face-timing!
In addition to waiting to be Zika-free, we did not conceive right away and suffered a miscarriage in between. I will speak more candidly about this later, as running post miscarriage is down right scary as all heck, but for now we shall celebrate. B2 is happy, healthy, and sassy as can be, conveniently kicking my bladder about as often as it seems my toddler says “No.”
My running has been slowly changing, emphasis on the slowly. Imagine yourself swearing at MK in the first few weeks of Heart Rate training, plus one extra swear for each week of pregnancy you have surpassed. This is right where I am currently stationed in my running. I was no speedster before, so I knew I would not get quicker while growing a human. I am a turtle and 100% ok with it. I told my husband I need a shirt that says “Yes, I’m pregnant. Yes, I’m slow. and Yes, I would like a taco RIGHT NOW.”
I look forward to sharing this journey of running with B2 with each and every one of you. Together we will celebrate the joys, talk candidly about what it is really like attempting to run with a watermelon attached to your belly, and share the in the laughter of motherhood, as I am sure there will be plenty throughout this experience. As an added bonus, the occasional picture of a cute kid will be included!
Like this one!
#264: Coach Amanda on Fitting in and Juggling Workouts on a Training Plan
Sarah and co-host Amanda Loudin discuss how to fit in and juggle workouts on a training plan when faced with a disrupted summer schedule or, heck, simply life itself. Coach Amanda answers a slew of questions culled from the AMR Facebook page. In short order, a few themes emerge, including the importance of overall consistency. Coach Amanda reveals whether it’s okay to occasionally split up a long run and whether stroller-miles equate to solo-miles. The duo discuss juggling strength training with a regular running regimen. The coach explains the best way to add in shorter races during a goal-race training cycle. The conversation turns to how sacrifice plays into things, with Coach Amanda offering the sage reminder of, “You can’t get through a marathon on a wish and a prayer.” (Amen!)
Before getting to the questions, find out why Sarah and Amanda might be going in circles—as well as a tale with a “Circle of Life” theme. The Q&A starts at 18:55.Â
*Discover the amazing new maternity workouts, as well as stroller sessions, on Aaptiv, the mobile app with coached workouts set to fresh, fun playlists! If your baby-days are behind (or ahead of!) you, tap Aaptiv for workouts focused on running, indoor cycling, elliptical, yoga, strength training, and more. For a free month, sign up at aaptiv.com and enter code AMR30
*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: Marathon Surprise
One true fact about life is that plans always change, which is why it pays to do your stretching exercises. Flexible is good.
When last we spoke, Carol, who had been training for the Vermont City Marathon, did something to her knee during an 18+mile run. She planned to run the first half of the race, then drop out when runner #1 handed off to runner #2.
That is not what happened.
Pre-race knitting and NUUN with Lisa. She usually doesn’t look so serious.
By the time I caught up with Carol and Lisa at the Expo, a new plan had been hatched. Carol’s knee was feeling pretty good, all things considered. Seeing how far she could run past the halfway point had its appeal. If she dropped at 13.1 or at 19.7, it would be recorded as a DNF. Why not, her thinking went, just try for the whole 26.2 and see what happens?
I had qualms, mind, but am almost always up for anything that finishes the phrase “would it be crazy if ….” What Carol had going for her was that she’d had nearly a month of rest, did get a few long runs in, and is generally in decent shape thanks to skiing. She also hadn’t wasted a whole lot of energy freaking out about running her first marathon because she’d only decided to do it that morning. She also had Lisa and I. She is also a badass.
In the negative column was the undeniable fact that a marathon is a temperamental beast that finds unique ways to test your gumption and stamina. But we tried to not dwell on that.
Race day dawned as it always does, which was way too early for comfort. The three of us piled on the bus to the start in downtown Burlington. Since I was going to take the second leg, I had a bagel, two hard boiled eggs, and not enough coffee with me so that I could have a leisurely breakfast while I waited for Lisa and Carol to hit the halfway mark.
There are worse places to wait for your runners.
After seeing the start of the race, I took the bus over to Oakledge park, where I amused myself with podcasts and back issues of Runners World for two and a half hours while waiting for my team to hit the hand-off. One of two things would happen at that point, either Carol would 1) keep going with me or 2) say nope and call it a race right then. She took option 1. Lisa tossed me the baton — one of those phone cord-like bracelet things that you can keep your keys on — and off we went.
My only goal for the next 13.1 miles was to make sure Carol crossed the finish line before the race’s six-hour time limit had expired. We needed roughly a 13:45 average per mile, which seemed doable, especially since Carol was still in great spirits. She nearly bounced through our first few miles.
Carol’s husband had our backs. And someday I’ll tell you the story about the leathery guy in front of us….
Right around mile 17, Voldesun made his appearance. We’d been enjoying the incredible crowd support in the neighborhoods but encouragement (and shade) was thin out on the main roads. Yet we pressed on. I threw in some  motivating chatter when it seemed like the right thing to do. I was also ready to call it a day if Carol started running like a person in pain.
This is what Voldesun does to me.
I kept doing math in my head, while sucking down water and sports drink and the occasional Gu. Both of us have nothing but love for the people handing out freezer pops, which were the best freezer pops ever. The weather warning signs at the aid stations went from moderate risk to high as the temps climbed.
The last few miles of the course were on scenic and kind of shady trails neat the lake. Carol said at some point, “I’m going to sob at the end, aren’t I?” Yup, I said, because by then I knew she would finish no matter what. Shortly after that, she had enough giddy-up in her legs to pick up the pace faster than I manage because the sun is not my friend and off she went.
I clomped on through the last mile solo and only once thought about simply wading into Lake Champlain and floating to Canada. Coming down the finish line, I high-fived every spectator who had a hand out, which was, I think, a billion of them. Carol’s face was streaked with tears (or salt, maybe?) when she hugged me. She finished in 5:53; our BAMR team finished in 5:56.
What you can’t see are the two spots on my shoulder blades where I didn’t get sunscreen. They are still peeling. Worth it.
Was it my zippiest, easiest, most comfortable race ever? Not even a little bit. Was it amazing to help a fellow BAMR meet a long-held goal? You betcha — and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Have you had any amazing race moments lately?
Happy Global Running Day, #Motherrunners!
In celebration of Global Running Day, we’re running a deal in our shop! Today, June 7, only, take 20% off tanks (so each is a mere $20)! It’s just our way of saying “tanks” for being part of the global AMR community.
HAPPY GLOBAL RUNNING DAY!
We pulled together some pictures from the #motherrunners in the Train Like a Mother Club to help us celebrate…but we need more help!
We know the tribe has BAMRs in all 50 states + around the world.
If your state has our signature shoes in it, we need a pic!
If your country isn’t represented, we need a pic!
Post a picture of you (a selfie, running, with BRFs, whatever works) in your local running spot on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook and tag it with both #globalrunningday and #AMR.
(We welcome pics from everywhere, not just the missing locales!)
We’ll pick the top three pictures posted today, June 7. Winners receive get a $50 gift certificate to the Train Like a Mother Club + a $25 gift certificate to the Another Mother Runner Store!
We’ll notify winners by end of day June 9.
(Quick note: I—Dimity—did my best to get in everybody who submitted a picture. Even so, I apologize if I missed you. And apparently we’re in serious need of #motherrunners from Oklahoma; we ask for OK twice!)
Ready? Set? Celebrate!
If your state has our signature shoes in it, we need a pic!
If your country isn’t represented, we need a pic!
Post a picture of you (a selfie, running, with BRFs, whatever works) in your local running spot on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook and tag it with both #globalrunningday and #AMR.
(We welcome pics from everywhere, not just the missing locales!)
We’ll pick the top three pictures posted today, June 7. Winners receive get a $50 gift certificate to the Train Like a Mother Club + a $25 gift certificate to the Another Mother Runner Store!
We’ll notify winners by end of day June 9.
Room on the Road: Stormy Trails
Friends warned me that middle school goes fast. I’m not ready for high school but he is. I’m a little nervous. He’s not. My dad’s sudden health challenges bring me racing to the present and dangling in the past. And make me realize how quickly physical abilities can come to a screeching halt. I don’t even have clean underwear and we’re out of apples. Every crack and crevice of my day has seemed to fill up when I wasn’t looking.Â
My head was spinning, which is why I’m impressed that I even found my way to my favorite trail.
Looking around I find comfort in the familiarity of the view, knowing that the seasons will change but at its core the trail remains the same. It will always be there for me.
My legs are stiff so I start out easy with a brisk walk. Fumbling around with my earbuds, debating on music or no music, I opt for tunes. With volume low enough to hear a gentle hello of a passerby, I remind myself to breathe, sink into my strides, and load my favorite playlist.
First up: Stevie Nicks, who always seems to know what is on my mind…  Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?
The threat of rain has lured only a few of us onto the trail this morning. I contemplate what the others might be in search of. I know I’m looking for peace of mind. I feel like I’m stuck in one of those all-at-once moments, sandwiched between being a parent and a daughter. I have to breathe strength into this tired body of mine. Regroup, recharge. Remember, forget.
I take an extra loop around the lake before setting out on a longer path. One more loop. Just breathe. I definitely need a few extra steps this morning to loosen my stride and sift through my thoughts. Forcing myself to be present: it’s a hard sell this morning. Be present. Be present. Be present.
A page out of Mother Nature’s book
Passing a favorite spot of mine, the rich greens and golds jump out against a grey sky like a page out of a pop-up book. Smooth blades of grass, jagged leaves, and bristly bushes. The harmony of so many textures and colors come together as new growth replaces the old. The view gives me insight to some deep seeded questions I’ve had lately. Everything has its place. Everything works together. Everything combined provides a bigger picture.
Aging parents, children going to high school, growing so quickly, life changes, crossroads, reality checks, now or never, struggling with letting go and holding on. My mind continues to race. One thing I trust is for the trail to bring me comfort.
Kicking up rocks, I scan across the skies, watching a storm coming in across the Front Range. So much beauty from afar. What a gift it can be to see a storm coming. I scurry to beat the rain. At the same time, I want to get caught in it, to have this storm stop me in my tracks. I’m ready, I can take it.Â
A storm approaches, both beautiful and unpredictable
I see you. You’re not that scary. A woman with a big smile coming towards me shouts Isn’t this beautiful and points to the darkening skies. I laugh and agree: It sure is!Â
Remnants of a quote—where I found it, I can’t even remember—ramble through my mind …leave people better than you found them. I give thanks for the woman’s smile and what appears to be her similar feelings about the storm rolling in.
My pace picks up. Changing my route, I head for the shore of the reservoir. Getting too close to the water, my feet start to sink into the sand. Running away from the water, I scramble to find a harder surface to support my steps. There is always stronger ground. You just have to move.Â
I find a middle ground, halfway between the hard sand and the shoreline. I want my steps to feel challenging but safe. I want to feel it in my legs. I want my whole body to be engaged with every step forward.
I don’t just want it. I need it to be hard. Every step brings me closer to being present, my thoughts, he will be fine in high school, there is still time to make new memories, drifting away.
Catching my breath, I turn around and look at the storm coming in. I still hope that I will get caught in the rain so I can prove to myself again that I can withstand a little rough patch. It starts to drizzle and it makes me deliriously happy. Here it comes.
I reluctantly head back towards the parking lot. I notice a heart rock, a reminder that the trail will always bring me back to love. It will always hold me up, quiet my mind, and keep me moving forward.
Always back to love
Savoring the gifts of the trail, I get in my car when the rain starts to come. I roll my eyes at the dainty rain drops. That’s it? I have to laugh at myself; sometimes even the darkest storms aren’t what I anticipate.
You Run Like a Girl: a Graphic Memoir
Terri is working on a graphic novel/memoir called You Run Like a Girl. It is a compilation of running comics that will offer a brief history of women’s running in the USA from approximately 1960 to today, featuring a few select biographies of noteworthy U.S. women runners during that time and how all of thiat has has shaped our lives as runners (or NOT runners).
Terri says:
I am hoping to add some personal experiences, thoughts or brief stories that can help round out what things have been like for us all over the past 50-60 years. I would love it if you could chime in and share a statement or short paragraph on the topics below. I would only be using first names (or anonymous if you prefer) and the year your experience took place.
What brought me (back) to running was ___________.
Be assured my personal experiences are going to touch on Ragnar Relay with Another Mother Runner, running in Corning, New York (marathon and other), the New York City marathon, my coach, and running with family (C25K!!) and friends.
Sarah and Dimity as illustrated by Terri. Please share your experiences with us in the comments!