August 2017

How She Did It: Theresa Pitts Pushed a Triple Stroller into the Record Books

One runner in the July Missoula Marathon made her way into the Guinness Book of Records by pushing a triple stroller for 26.2 miles. Which is amazing in its own right. But Theresa Maria Pitts is a wonder in more ways than one. Not only was this her first marathon, she also has five more kids at home. Her time management skills must break records, too. So we asked her about how she gets it all in. 

I’ve always been an outdoorsy person but I didn’t really start running on a regular basis until 2013. I was in a depressive slump and was searching for a healthy way to get back on track mentally, physically, and spiritually. So I set a goal, and with a little bit of training, raced my first sprint triathlon. And absolutely loved it.

Since then I’ve enjoyed training for and racing everything from road races to obstacle races. It’s fun to mix things up with these varied races but I do love the simplicity of long-distance running, which makes up the bulk of my fitness training. And running is one of the ways I have learned to keep myself well-balanced and mentally and physically strong despite the challenges of life.

On fitting it all in …

Because of our large family and very busy schedule I was finding it difficult to get out on solo runs with any regularity. So I started bringing my children along with me. After seeing how much they loved our nature rides together I never wanted to leave them behind.

I am not competitive with others, but I am very competitive with myself. I am always trying to better myself! So I am always challenging to myself to new goals, and, yes, have been wanting to tackle the marathon for a while. But I was always pregnant, or nursing, or not in the greatest shape, etc. So I finally told myself, “No more excuses, I’m doing this.” And got to work. I stopped letting excuses and fear of failure hold me back, and started taking the necessary steps (literally) I needed in order to prepare for the marathon.

The stroller crew, looking good in their shades.

I think it’s important to know what you value most, and then prioritize your choices and your day accordingly. For me, my faith and my family take presidence over all else and help dictate my choices throughout each day. When I put what is most important first, the rest always seems to fall into its proper place.

On sticking to a training plan….

I have learned to be flexible with the electives in life. With running, I have a general plan I try to follow. But I also anticipate, even expect, interruptions. I count them as ‘bonus’ rest and recovery days if I must.

I like to train by feel rather than a rigid schedule or training plan with little or no flexibility. If I feel like pushing myself a little faster and farther, I do. If my kids really don’t feel like a run or if there are just too many activities going on, I call it a rest day.  I still incorporate important elements of a good training plan, including tempo runs, long runs, hills and speedwork, and strength training (often using my children as extra weight or resistance!)

I would say whatever your goal is, start your path in simple ways. Assess where you’re at and then do a little bit more. Just do a little bit more today than you did yesterday. Maintain balance in your life and focus on smaller, more manageable goals that move you closer to your big goals. The grandest goals are met after many small and simple steps.

On how long it takes to get out for a run ….

It does take patience and commitment to include the children on the runs because it can take up to an hour to even get out the door as I get everyone clean, dressed, and happy, drinks and snacks stocked, and ready to go on our rides together. A cute thing is that there have been a couple times when we’ve been out on a long run my 4-year old has said, “Mom, this sidewalk is really long.” That tells me it’s probably time to turn around and head home.

My little ones love to get out of the stroller and run alongside me. They’re little runners already. My older kids are saying, “Mom, we want to do a 5K with you.” They’re picking up on it.

On running solo …

I have run without a stroller before. After training with it for so long I definitely prefer to run with the stroller! To me, the only thing that makes a good run better is being able to bring my children along with me! We chat and laugh and have such an enjoyable time together! We frequently stop to play at the park (cross-training ;). Our family bonds, and it makes me strong (forgive the rhyming, it’s the way I think haha).

Mom’s eye view.

On breaking the record…

The record is neat. This was my first full marathon. I had no idea what to expect. There were so many things that could go wrong, but I chose to stay positive and focus on all that could go right. I was just going to get out there and try my very best and have fun with the adventure ahead. I looked at it as if I was simply touring the countryside with my children on a beautiful summer morning. I figured it was better than sitting at home watching YouTube videos.

On pushing a little bit more each time…

Just as we must exercise to develop muscular strength we must work to develop our mental strength. It doesn’t come for free. It takes time and effort and practice. We do this by stepping out of our comfort zone. And by doing things that stretch us, and maybe even scare us a little bit. When we’ve come to a point where we think we have reached our limit and can’t do any more, we’ve only accomplished a fraction of what we are actually capable of doing. So stretch yourself and keep. on. reaching.

Swimming 4.25 Miles To Catch A Guppie

6,000 yards down...how many more to go?

6,000 yards down…how many more to go? (Me with the jazz hands, Katie in the middle, Kathleen on the right.)

 

Since Sarah took a trip down memory lane and jumped into water in this hot, hot August, I wanted to do the same with this post from January 2015. Maybe 2018 is the year I do the full 10,000 meters.

About seven years ago, I read a post from a triathlete who, to celebrate the new year, did 100 x 100 yards. (That’s 100, 100-yard pieces.) It takes multiple hours and is a little less than six miles of swimming, which I probably don’t need to tell you is a really, really long way to go in the pool unless you’re Diana Nyad or training to swim the English Channel.

Despite not being in either of those categories, I’ve stored that little (long) workout in the back of my head since that day. It swims around like a guppie in my big mental tank full of grocery lists, basketball practices, ring-tailed lemur science projects, Lena Dunham essays. On the rare occasions, the guppie makes it to the front of my brain, it intrigues me in the way that running a marathon used to: Wow, why would you ever want to do go that far…but could I do that?

I did the Pikes Peak Ascent in August, then injured my foot in October, so it really hasn’t been that long—5 months or so—since I’ve had that dang-I-accomplished-something! feeling.

Except it kind of has, because I get that delicious feeling after every run, which makes me slightly addicted to it. Like most injured runners, I miss it acutely when I haven’t tasted it. While I realize the transformative power of a sports-bra-soaking-sweat, I don’t really feel that go-me! after a bike at the gym or a session at Orange Theory Fitness, my newest fitness foray.

Running in singular in its ability to let me both physically slow down and sweat, mentally soak things up and clear things out at the same time.

So when the fog of holiday sugar cookies cleared, I found the 100 x 100 guppie hanging in the back corner of my brain tank, along with a bunch of holiday returns I needed to make. And I remembered my running pal Katie, who had done 100 x 100 in previous years with the masters team she swims with. I took action.

photo (16)

Long story short. Despite having not swum (swam? I can never conjugate that verb) since mid-December, I decided I would give it a whirl. I found a new suit on massive clearance for the occasion; I was feeling so bold, I just bought it off the rack and didn’t try it on. It couldn’t have been worse than the one I currently have, whose outer layer  is so saggy, the fabric could be belted.

We texted back and forth a few more times, and I met Katie this morning to cover what I thought would be 5,000 yards—the longest distance I’ve ever covered, including Ironman training. I thought it would be kind of a clockwork situation: swim, say, 10 x 100, take a drink, eat a gel if need be, keep going. Instead, it turned out to be a group collaboration between Katie, Kathleen (who I just met that morning), and me.

After we all did the “I’m so slow” and “I haven’t been in the pool forever” thing, we settled into the idea that this was a “slow and steady” thing and then we settled into a rhythm. Each person would picked what we’d do for 500 yards (5 x 100, say or 500 straight or 2 x 250 as 200 free, 50 back), then lead the other two in the pattern. We used kickboards, pull buoys and fins, which spiced things up. We were all about the same speed, so that worked well, and if I just focused on the 500—and not the fact that 500 was just 5% of the total yardage set for the day—then that was even better.

2,000 yards clicked by pretty easily. I took a Caramel Machiatto Gu at 2,500 yards, and defogged my goggles. The jolt of energy and the clear view made me feel like I could cover another 7,500 yards. But then each 500 made my arms progressively more tired. (Like, uh, no duh, Dimity…). If you want to play the Jeopardy edition of Dimity’s injuries, you’ll remember that I had shoulder and neck problems while training for Ironman. While I’d take those over my current foot issue, I don’t need to create more physical drama in my life.

We covered 3,000 yards in about an hour, so I thought I’d get to 6,000 in about 2 hours, which would be plenty. Plenty. Past my original goal of 5,000 yards, but not so much that I’d need to email my chiropractor as soon as I got home. I wanted to keep going because I was loving the water, which didn’t feel overly chlorinated. It gave me space to daydream, think, and simply be quiet—another casualty of my non-running. (When I’m at the gym and the Paris massacres are all over multiple televisions, it’s hard to be quiet. It’s just sad and troubling.)

Social kicking sets...my fave.

Social kicking sets…my fave.

The set we did at 5,000 yards was 500 yards of kickick with fins and kickboards, which we did three across and chatted the whole time. Two hours had passed. I was feeling pruney but my shoulders felt slightly refreshed, thanks to the kicking break and a Chocolate GU.

“You can get to 7,500,” prodded Katie, an endurance enabler, and I muttered that yes, I probably could. So I picked a somewhat doable set that was 10 x 50 yards for the next one, but with each stroke, I thought the sinew in my shoulders might snap. I decided that I’d stop if the next set felt that awful…but it didn’t. The ache morphed to muscularly dull, not angry.

I didn’t go the total distance—I doubt I could be typing right now if I did—but I swam 7,500 yards (4.25 miles!), and I feel more accomplished than I have in months. I also feel a little nauseous because the mileage allowed me to justify too much French Onion Dip and Ruffles and a second beer as I watched the Broncos lose, which also adds to the nausea. I wonder how my shoulders and neck will feel tomorrow…I may be sending Katie a bill for my chiropractor.

Mostly, though, I just love putting myself out there and catching that 100 x 100 guppie.

Well, catching most of it anyway. And, like any good fish story, it just may grow over time.

Any guppies swimming around in your head that you’re fixing to catch—or recently caught? 

 

Dry Martini: Seven Tips for Vacation Runs

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, my husband and I decided to take some time this summer to travel with the kids while we still have a chance. Tempus fugits faster every month. Before we know it, the youngest will be out the door and we’ll be on to life’s next stage, one where we won’t buy three gallons of milk every week and wonder about the source of various smells wafting from various kid rooms. But also where we can’t pack ‘em up and bond in exotic locales. Like, most recently, Montreal.

I also realize that my opportunities to force pictures like this will continue to dwindle. Until then, I am seizing the freaking day.

After a day or two’s worth of stuffing myself with crepes and poutine, I managed to get my act together and get sweaty. Along the way, I figured out how I go about putting a vacation run together.

1. Look for the runners.

While I bring running gear with me most of the time, I don’t always use it. Sometimes, that has to do with not finding a window of time that works. But sometimes I don’t run because I don’t see other runners out and about. Runners will do their best to run outdoor so if I don’t see any, I figure there’s a reason. Maybe it’s too hot in the morning or the traffic is too bad or the air smells of skunk. Who knows? Respect the local knowledge.

I promise there is another runner in this picture. She was only one of many that I saw.

2. The internet is a wonderful thing.

a. It’s tricky to find a place in the developed world (and a good chunk of the developing world) where there isn’t at least one Map My Run, Strava, or FastZach route. Most places have dozens on dozens of them. This is both a curse and a blessing. I was overwhelmed by the number of possibilities in Montreal and had to find other ways to winnow it down.

b. When overwhelmed by all of the routes documented by local runners, I just resorted to a google search of “Montreal Running Routes.” The first three pages I pulled up all mentioned the Lachine Canal. When I looked at where the hotel was and where a canal access point was, I knew I had a winner.

2.5. Nothing, however, replaces human intel.

You can always ask someone if there is a someone available. If you’re staying in a hotel, ask the front desk or a concierge – and some resorts and chains, like Westin, make a point of having maps ready to go. You can call a local running store, if there is one. This isn’t always an option – but if it is, seize it.

3. Manage your expectations.

For me, running either longer than normal or faster than normal in an unfamiliar location is a non-starter. I don’t want to spend my quality trip time cranky because my legs are tired and I’m hungry. Also: it’s hard to focus on a tempo run when you also have to navigate and be aware of your surroundings. Give yourself permission to just enjoy it.

4. Choose your time wisely.

I am a morning runner so I shoot to be out the door by 6:30, maybe 7, for a vacation run. It’s early enough that I don’t have to worry about crowds of people in my way but not so early that I’ll be the only one out there. And that “not the only one out there” part is crucial. Go when it is likely that there will be other runners/cyclists/tourists out whenever you are. In a strange place, I don’t want to be the only one on a path because it makes me too easy to pull off of the path without anyone noticing. I want to be able to scream and have my voice reach a half-dozen other people. Those strangers can’t all wish me harm and one, most likely, will call the cops. It’s sad that this is a consideration but here we are.

5. Plan your route – and tell someone what it is.

I don’t have to tell you this if you’ve seen 127 Hours. For the rest of you: figure out in advance where you’ll go and tell someone, even if you have to text it to you BRF back home. Also (and I can’t stress this enough): ROAD ID (or sharpie pertinent info on your belly).

5.5. It’s even better if you can convince someone to run with you.

The buddy system exists for a reason, yo.

My buddy on this run (and through life). He’s not a runner by choice – but will if there are no other options. This time, he stuck with me for my first two miles, then looped back to the hotel.

6. Take all of the pictures ever.

I’m not a huge buyer of souvenirs. But I am a huge taker of pictures, especially when running someplace new. With them, I can viscerally remember what it was like to be in that place and at that time moving my body through space. Just looking at my snaps from Montreal, I can feel the morning cool damp and the sound of the canal and how slippery one of the wooden bridges was. The lavender – or something very like lavender – was in bloom and made the morning smell divine as the sun warmed it up. I remember the dogs and their walkers I passed, who would tell me “bonjour” and I’d reflectively say “good morning” and we’d both be amused by the other. Those are the moments I want to keep and, with a picture, I can.

If you can take a picture of a giant, inflatable beaver, do so.

What would you add to my list, BAMRs?

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