Dry Martini: Eighty Small Ovals
Pop quiz, mother runners.
Take these two numbers: Eighty. Negative ten.
Put those digits together.
Solve.
The answer isn’t seventy, even though just about every elementary school kid will say that. Or, at least, should.
On Sunday, the answer was “indoor track.”
I know. It was a trick question.
To be honest, I’d planned head outside for my long run, because I am a hearty northeasterner who fears no weather. Give me a pair of yak tracks and a wooly hat and I’m #GTG, as all the kids say. The previous weekend, I knocked out a long run in freeze-my-heinie-off temps shortly after attending my very own swearing-in ceremony and figured this weekend would be more of the same. (And thanks to all of the commenters who offered kudos and/or luck. Someday, this whole adventure will be a great book — once I’ve figured out if it will be a light comedy or cautionary tale.)
Nope. I can’t feel my face. What gives it away?
During that long run, I looked like the younger brother in A Christmas Story; you know, the one who looked like a tick. Once you’ve put on two pairs of fleece-lined tights, two shirts, once fleece jacket and one wind-proof jacket, it’s hard to put your arms down. It worked, though, and I was almost too warm.
My only mistake was pulling my phone out of my pocket to check a text. After about 15 seconds, the whole screen went black because the battery decided it would rather be in Florida. The battery, it must be said, is smarter than the rest of us who live where the air hurts our face.
Every single winter, this little meme pops into my head.
Still, unintentional Zen run aside, those seven miles were fine, if cold.
I figured I’d do the same thing a couple of days ago. I’d even ordered a fancy, breathable ski mask to keep my cheeks warm for the first few miles and was eager to try it out, because I am that big of a dork. This plan lasted until I looked outside and noticed that a thin film of ice was on pretty much everything. Ice is the cold-weather runner’s kryptonite. Or if it isn’t, it should be if that cold-weather runner wants to stay uninjured.
While my local YMCA has treadmills and I could front the couple of bucks for a day pass, I simply couldn’t bring myself to run ten miles, which for me takes two hours and a few minutes, on a treadmill. Not even with TVs. And fans. And buttons to push.
But I did think I could run ten miles on the indoor track on campus. As long as I didn’t think too hard about it, mind you, and had plenty of podcasts to listen to. So I jumped in the car.
After a brief slapstick routine involving locked doors, a campus mostly closed for the winter break, and helpful maintenance guy, I started my run. The upside of running on the indoor track is that there is a place to put my water bottle and a Stroopwafel. The downside is pretty much everything else.
It’s a lot of around and around. There is no scenery to speak of, except for some small windows that look onto our mostly frozen landscape. The far side of the track was easily 80 degrees, because of the morning sun and cranked-up radiators. Still, I’ll choose it over the treadmill any day of the week.
On this day, after the first 45 minutes, the smattering of other runners on the track left, which meant I could change directions every two miles without causing awkward social situations. (For the record, I prefer to go clockwise.) Since I was alone, I decided there was no reason not to talk out loud to myself when I wanted to just pack up my Stroopwafel and go home. Because, really? Who does this sort of thing? Run 80 laps in an empty gym on a bitterly cold Sunday afternoon?
BAMRs, y’all. That’s who.
The hot side of the track, shortly after I started talking to myself.
I know that some of my sisters of the North are giving me virtual fist-bumps for dealing with extreme winter conditions. But let me reassure my sisters in the South: I have no idea how you deal with heat, to say nothing of the humidity and the bugs and the sun. Every single BAMR has her weather dilemmas to deal with. It’s just my turn right now.
So who is with me on Team Indoor Track? Who is Team Treadmill? And who is Team Stay In Bed Until the Ice is Gone?
Mother Runners Share the Upsides of Winter Running
Last week on our Facebook page, as much of the eastern U.S. was enduring the “bomb cyclone,” we asked you BAMRs to chime in about what they enjoy about winter running. The responses made us want to pull on our Yaktrax and put in some miles in a tundra-like landscape! While Mother Nature has loosened her icy grip a bit, these invigorating perspectives will give you a kick out the door when frigid temps + snow returns!
Winter Weather
Birgit: I’m in Louisiana. We have had freezing temps for a week straight now, first time in 20 years. July is coming—I’m not complaining!
Sierra: I would always prefer Arctic cold over hot any day…so I enjoy it while I can! Period.
Samantha: Being able to breath versus 98% humidity thick air! I ran in a wind chill of 6 in New Year’s Day in Georgia, and I’d take that over a summer day for sure.
Winter Zen
Cassie: I love making the first footprints in the snow. It makes me feel like I’m ahead of the entire world, even though I’m more tortoise than hare.
Elizabeth: Oddly enough, I feel it’s like the best kind of distraction. My legs sort of go numb (a functioning numb), and I go on autopilot. The silence and sight of my own breath is very calming, too.
Sarah K.: That winter, night sky! I’m a night runner and somehow the sky and stars just look so much clearer in winter. It is so peaceful to run down the sky with everyone else tucked away in their houses.
Practical
Polly: Of 4 kids and 1 manfriend, no one offers to “tag along.” None of this, “Well, Momma, I can follow on my bicycle. I’ll keep up.”
Melinda: Wearing my running clothes more than once before washing. I live in Texas and spend a good portion of the year drenched in sweat and there is no re-wearing anything once I finish a run.
Maureen: No overheating because I can always unzip or take something off! I also love the pockets as well.
Lizzie: It’s so much easier to breathe in the cold. And I don’t overheat and get that awful “too-hot” headache.
Attitude
Krissie: I’m going out tomorrow morning for 18km in -33 Celsius windchill with my half-marathon clinic I’m co-leading. I’ll be dressed well, and I know I’ll feel pretty bada$s when I’m finished. That’s my silver lining!
Elle: Oh, for sure it’s the Instant Badass Cred. I am full of such smugitude for the rest of the day.[Bonus badass points, Elle, for sharing that assume portmanteau of “smugitude” with us!]
Barbara: Plain and simple, the cold is invigorating and makes me feel alive (and maybe a little faster).
Ginny: There is a different sense of adventure running in the same places in extreme temperatures. The colds feeds my Viking ancestor blood!
Hidi: Bragging rights!
How ’bout you, mother runner: What do you dig about winter running?
The Struggle is Real: Screen-Time Limits
I agree with all of these rules, but currently, these aren’t really the struggle. Sheer volume of screen time is.
Recently, there are two things in re: parenting that make my voice build to a shriek-like volume that is probably not ideal for optimal parenting.
The first is when my kids lie to me. (Duh.)
The second? Screens. Both of the television and smartphone variety. There’s no particular tipping point like number of hours on the couch or miles scrolling mindlessly in the car. (Or better yet: scrolling on their phone while watching tv! Bonus for the brain cells!)
I snap loudly after I sense they’ve been staring at a screen for much.too.long for their growing brains. No warning given, no limits broken. You could say it’s unfair, but I do it out of loving concern, which is my maternal justification.
I yell at them to read a book or go outside or talk to me or JUST GET OFF YOUR SCREEN!*
*The irony that I spend plenty of time on a screen for both work + personal reasons is not lost on me, but I am getting better about not being connected 24/7.
My loud, temporary, albeit absolutely not effective, solution lasts for a spell, and then we reset back to the beginning of screen-o-rama. (And yes, I’m particularly sensitive to this right now, given that it’s the 16th day of no school and, um, we gave our 11.5-year-old my old phone for Christmas. #hypocritemuch?)
I know kids have to be all ready for their technological-heavy futures; the volume of activity they do in Google classroom is simultaneously astounding and cool. They email with their teachers, which I love. Snapchat and GroupMe have replaced the telephone, and I want them to have a social circle and not feel excluded from plans.
That said, I also want them to be able to function without a device in their right hands. I want them to regularly opt for a book over Instagram, a conversation over a text, a board game over the video option. (To be fair, they do these things, but often not without my prompting.)
Are my kids too old for brilliance like this? I’m not sure.
My guess is that their ages—14.5 (9th grade), 11.5 (6th)—make strict limits harder to enforce, but I could be wrong.
Here’s what I’ve tried that hasn’t worked:
- Creating a 10-hour a week chart last summer for television programs. I’m not even sure we made it past the first week.
- Screaming at my kids to GET OFF THEIR SCREENS!
Here are the two things that have stuck:
- Phones get plugged in around 8 pm in the kitchen, and don’t get unplugged until ideally 8 am the next morning. (Early morning swim practice for the teenager has made the starting point null and void for her, but the general sentiment still holds.)
- No Netflix in bed. This took a few consequences (read: taking the phone away) to stick. With the exception of when my sisters or I were sick, we were not allowed to have televisions in our bedrooms when we grew up. I am still a believer in that rule; binge watching under the covers when it’s 11 am and sunny out just isn’t good for the mood or soul, in my opinion.
School starts again today (Praise Be!) and both of their schools have some great phone rules. In most of her high school classrooms, Amelia has to check her phone into an over-the-door shoe holder at the beginning of the class. In Ben’s middle school, phones stay in the locker from the first bell until the last—and if a student breaks that rule, the parent has to come retrieve the phone.
Still, next weekend is a three-day weekend, and I’m sure I’ll blow again before Saturday morning—a favorite screen battlefield time of mine—even arrives. I’d like to find a new solution in 2018 because nobody, including me, benefits from me losing my sh*t over screens.
What are your screen rules in re: limits for your offspring?
What works for you and your family?
(Parents of all ages of kiddos: feel free to weigh in!)
2018 Goals: Meet Bethany, an Ambitious, Divorced #MotherRunner
Bethany and her sons after her 2017 Freihofers:
much more successful than her first attempt.
NOTE: This is the first of four posts in January revolving around 2018 goals for a range of #motherrunners. Thanks, Bethany, for going first in the petri dish!
One of the best things about this community is our shared language and instant rapport. Talk to a mother runner—even if you’ve never met her; even if you can’t see her facial expressions over the phone—and the possibilities are endless. Suddenly you’re talking about races you’ve run or want to, injuries you’ve battled, pleasures and perils of hot yoga, benefits of chiropractic and ART, being a Type A person trying to fit it all into your crazy mama-runner-work schedule, not to mention eating all the food—even when you quit marathon training! (That’s why we’re all here, right?)
Bethany Mazura and I—Tish (thank you for the warm welcome last week, btw!) bonded over all this.
So when she asked what I thought of the dual June goals she listed on her 2018 GOAL SHEET—that is, running a half-marathon AND a 25K trail race—the empathic instant runner friend in me wanted to say, “Oh, yes, cool! Go for it!” But the more conservative perhaps mom-like coach-type in me went, “Eeek!” (With the important caveat that I’m not actually a coach. But more on that later.***)
A taste of Bethany’s packed goal sheet—and June isn’t even listed yet!
Bethany, 40, a divorced mother of two boys, ages 7 and 5, is an attorney in special education (deep bow). She signed up for her first 5K with a friend— the famous women-only Freihofers 5K in her hometown of Albany—in 2009 to help deal with the depression of miscarriage (our hearts to hers). “I hated it,” she says. “I thought, ‘I’m never doing this again!’”
HA. We all know how THAT goes.
Flash forward: pregnancy, kids, “my body doing all the crazy things it does when you have babies,” getting divorced, and once more into depression. Her therapist said, “You really need to exercise more.”
And so when Bethany saw on FB that a group of friends were running the Freihofers 5K, she signed up again. This time was different because sharing custody of her sons with her ex meant she had time alone on her hands.
“What was I going to do? Sit around the basement feeling sorry for myself?” (Oh wait. Maybe that was me.)
She met her local running club, the Albany Running Exchange, and soaked up the positive support of a community that wasn’t “constantly asking about my divorce.” From there, she met an Albany Mothers group that turned her onto the AMR podcast. This time it clicked.
And talk about clicking: In October, Bethany ran the Marine Corps Marathon, her first. Bravo! (In an ironic twist, when they were married, her ex had been a marathoner. She rode the subways around New York cheering him on. He doesn’t run any more. Neither does my ex!)
HOW A DIVORCED ATTORNEY DOING GOOD WORK WHILE SHARING CUSTODY OF TWO YOUNG BOYS RUNS + SURVIVES THE INSANITY + WHAT WE CAN LEARN FROM HER
What Bethany Does: PLAN
“I’m a Type A person,” Bethany says. “I love to plan.” She spent two hours on her 2018 goal sheet. “I like to write things down. It helps me get things done.” Bethany plotted out her Marine Corps Marathon training plan SIX MONTHS in advance. She found a 3-day-a-week training plan because she knew that was realistic.
She added 2-3 weeks to the schedule because, she says, “Someone’s going to get sick—me, the boys, or the babysitter—and I don’t want to freak out if I have to skip a run that weekend.” (Smart!) She scheduled her long runs on weekends the boys were with their dad, and lined up babysitters for other weekends. She doesn’t have family nearby so when the babysitter bailed, she relied on friends or just … skipped the run.
What Bethany Does: MAKES DO
On the weeks when she has the boys, Bethany runs at lunch, even if it’s just 2 to 3 miles. She runs hill repeats outside or gets on the treadmill and throws in sprints or jacks up the incline. She shifts workouts around, as necessary.
What Bethany Does: LETS GO
“Part of it was overcoming guilt about leaving the boys to go for a run,” she says. “I had a lot of that.”
But you know what? Three months later, Bethany’s boys are asking when she’s going to train for a marathon again, because they want to hang out with the baby sitter. “I guess they had fun,” she says and laughs.
What Bethany Does: TAKES CARE OF HERSELF
She got shin splints when she started running (it’s the most common beginner injury of all). She hurt her back. What she learned—what we all eventually learn—is she couldn’t JUST run and be okay.
She added hot yoga (“I never thought I’d like it, but when my muscles are warm, I’m able to stretch”). On the advice of running-club buddies, she started seeing a chiropractor and receiving ART (active release therapy). “It hurts like hell but it’s so good.” This month she is doing a 30-day yoga challenge AND a 21-day fix to get back on a healthy eating track after the holidays.
“When you’re 40 you’re not 30,” she says. (True story.)
Having fun on the trails with a slight amphibian theme.
What Bethany Does: HAS FUN
This July, Bethany is returning to a trail running camp in the woods for the fourth time. She found out about it through friends in the Albany Running Exchange. (Amen, once agian, to the power of community.) The first time she went, she had never set foot on a trail. Nows she loves it so much she runs the Exchange’s spring and summer trail running series and hits the dirt as much as possible, as soon as Albany is clear of the snow, thaw, mud seasons.
YEAH, BUT WHAT ABOUT BETHANY’S 2018 GOAL SHEET??
*** Important Caveat: I am not a coach, I just worked at a running magazine for 14 years. I read every single word of Runner’s World before it went on press, often many times. I worked with the training, nutrition, gear, and injury-prevention editors to conceive and shape content. You’d have to be a robot not to absorb all that wisdom. (Hello, robot. I see you coming for me.) I ran my first marathon in 1989 (faint) and since then have completed 53, plus five ultras. Sometimes I qualified for Boston, many times I did not.
And also: I’m a smarty pants.
Finally, before we start this section, here is Bethany’s full goal sheet as a PDF.
BETHANY’S GOOD STUFF
- Bethany’s long-range planning and acceptance of change are impressive.
- I’m so glad she has a community of positive, supportive runners to lift her spirits.
- Hill repeats on her time-crunched days are a time-effective way to sneak in strength work (hello, glutes!) and recent studies have shown the benefits of short bursts of intense training.
- Hot yoga is great for sneaking in stretching and strength work and a nice balance to running.
- Trail running works your muscles differently than does road running. It’s micro, but there’s more lateral movement that builds more strength in your hips, ankles, and calf muscles. This may not translate into faster road-race times but it will make your body stronger and your head happier.
MY GENTLE, LOVING ADVICE FOR BETHANY
Dear Bethany, Being Type A is a blessing and a curse. Ambitious plans look really good on paper, and we write them down because that makes them more real. We know you are good at expecting the unexpected, so we hope you won’t be too hard on yourself.
In March, I see you are looking for a 5K while you are at Disney. If this is easy to find and doesn’t impede your vacation with your boys, go for it. If not, take a pass.
In June, the twin goals of a fast half-marathon and a trail 25K are fighting each other. Four weeks in between a road race and a long trail race is not enough time for your body to recover, and you risk blowing both or worse, injury.
What to do? The Covered Bridges Half-Marathon in Vermont (in early June) is a beautiful course and a friendly community-supported event. Do that race VERY SLOWLY, using it as the last long run before the 25K. Take many walk breaks, take in the sights, bring your phone if you’re inclined, and step off the course to take photos. The point is to enjoy a catered long run and be as kind to your body as possible – because it’s still a long time on your feet on a paved road, none of which is trail specific. Recover per usual during the following week, then spend as much time on trails a possible before the 25K, though I would be conservative with a long run, going for time (an hour to two, max) rather than distance.
September may be too soon after the trail race, trail camp, and possible Ragnar Relay to nail a half-marathon PR. Your body needs time to recover from all these various and demanding efforts. Please remember to take care of yourself—I like Epsom salt baths to ease aching muscles—and back off if your body complains in the slightest.
Do you see some of yourself in Bethany’s ambitious plans? Would you add other advice–or encouragement?
#293: Training Tips + Advice from Three Coaches
Meet Our Newest Contributor: Tish Hamilton
More than a decade ago, Sarah and I ran the Nike Women’s Marathon.
I trot out this beauty of a picture (and the accompanying feature in Runner’s World) not to share my super stylish helmet-inspired ‘do or Sarah’s cover-ready face, but because the 26.2—and all the training we did for it—is where this whole #motherrunner party inadvertently started.
The person who issued the invitation? Tish Hamilton.
If you’ve read the beginning of Run Like a Mother, you have read portions of the email exchanges Sarah and I had with Tish.
After our first book came out, Sarah and I continued our friendships + profressional relationships with Tish. We got to run a Hood to Coast with her; Tish, the sprite that she is, generously took the first very downhill, quad-thrashing leg. She and I watched the 2007 Olympic Trials together in Central Park; her live commentary made me feel like I was on ABC Wide World of Sports.
Sarah and I both wrote various stories for Tish, who, as executive editor at Runner’s World, helped direct the focus and content of the magazine. Like the capable editor she is—she honed her craft at such magazines as Rolling Stone and Outside—she guided us with expertise and grace, polishing our prose while allowing our attitudes and personalities to shine through.
If you read Tales from Another Mother Runner, you got the pure talent of Tish as you read her insightful, smart essay about having a BRF who helped her through her divorce.
You also may have heard Tish on the Boston Qualifier sqeaker AMR podcast episode where she expanded on her RW feature about barely getting into Boston.
The singlet-outfitted mice that yes, I thought were alive. Can you fault me for being a believer?
And she was our guest on the AMR podcast once more, to talk about her aforementioned essay. This time, thankfully, the topic of dead rodents didn’t come up.
As Another Mother Runner (happily) gobbled up more and more of our time—and the magazine landscape shifted—Sarah and I didn’t get to interact with Tish much, save for the occasional Twitter banter.
Then the magazine landscape–or the one Sarah and I focus on, anyway—had a seismic shift; in early 2017, Runner’s World overhauled their staff. Our hearts hurt for Tish; not only because she is a single mother, but also because her love of running is as determined and authentic as any we’ve ever seen.
We’re pretty sure she was put on this earth to document our beloved sport of running.
The passion for many miles runs (ha!) in the family; Tish (right) and her mom and sister sharing their goods from the Senior Games.
Our paths crossed unexpectedly at the 2017 Philadelphia Marathon; this was probably her 78th marathon or some such craziness. (And no, I didn’t fact-check that.) I knew she was there, but I didn’t expect to see her.
We connected, and today we are thrilled to issue this lovely full-circle announcment: Tish is going to start contributing regularly to the Another Mother Runner website! Starting Monday! She will join Adrienne Martini, who will continue her popular and entertaining Dry Martini column, as a regular contributor.
We can’t wait for you to experience the expertise, insight, humor, and perspective of this veteran #motherrunner, and we invite you to welcome her to the AMR Tribe! Follow her on Twitter, and on Instagram.
(And yes, I realize I have totally buried the lede on this post; I should have started with Tish, not Sarah + me. Tish would’ve gently fixed that.)