Grand Canyon Training: Be Somebody on Whom Nothing is Lost
Best port-a-potty view ever. End of discussion.
This past weekend was supposed to be about Grand Canyon training, about getting miles at elevation, about climbing and descending. And it kind of was.
Back up: As you may know, two Minnesota-based friends of mine, Jo and Jess, and I are going to hike rim-to-rim in the Grand Canyon this spring. One of them—not naming names—is celebrating a milestone birthday, and, like any #motherrunner worth her sweat, wants to celebrate by hiking about 24 miles through one of the most beautiful places on earth.
I have been training them (a loose term) for our adventure, and they’re nailing the plan. But Minnesota has an average elevation of 1,200 feet, and the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, our destination, tops out at over 8,000 feet. Jess has asthma. Since altitude can affect breathing, we wanted to be sure her lungs jived with thin air, so the pair came to Colorado for a training weekend. She figured if the cold, dry air didn’t aggravate things, the warmer, dry air won’t either.
Jess getting intimate with the white stuff.
Wanting to stay close to home on the first day in case things went awry, we then headed to the top of Ski Granby, which is accessible from my mom’s front door. With the exception of a few falls (which we had to document, of course), the J-Team were total rock stars.
Asthma? As if.
Gearing up in Rocky Mountain National Park before we climb our buns off.
The next day, we headed to Rocky Mountain National Park–a place, I’m embarrassed to admit, I’ve never visited in winter, despite it being about 30 minutes from my mom’s house. It was nearly deserted, and crazy spectactular.
Jo scoped out a tree-lined trail that went nearly straight up for what seemed like hours. We didn’t have a map (not super smart, but the great thing about snowshoeing is that you can count on following your track back out). Thankfully, we eventually topped out on Trail Ridge Road, a road that leads to Estes Park in the summer, but is closed in the winter. The road grade was much more user-friendly, although we were definitely still going up, up, up until we turned and went down, down, down.
Turn it upside down, add a few thousand feet, and you’ve got our Grand Canyon hike.
At one point on Saturday, Jess asked us to stop for a second to put our hands together. The wind was blowing hard, the sky was crazy blue, the sun was creating diamonds on the snow around us, our blood was pumping, our legs were a bit shaky. We couldn’t help but feel 100% alive, 100% Holy Cow, 100% bewildered at this life and this earth.
Friendship at 10,000 feet. Hard to beat.
“Be somebody on whom nothing is lost,” Jess said, “My mom always tells me this, and I want us to remember this today and through the rest of our training.”
Not sure smiles ever left our faces, especially when selfie-pro Jo took out her lens.
It was hard not to be present, not to miss a detail during those two days. We laughed and chatted. We stomped in silence. We watched out for each other, reminding each other to drink up often and to take the climbs slow. We ate homemade turkey and avocado sandwiches and Justin’s peanut butter cups. We dropped trou and peed in the open. We decided Wide Open Spaces by the Dixie Chicks will be our Grand Canyon theme song. We were absolutely where our feet—and accompanying snowshoes and snow-balled socks—were.
We stopped in nearby Grand Lake for hot chocolate after our adventure. I asked if they wanted to look in the shops for a minute. “No,” said Jo, “That’ll ruin our vibe.” We agreed, and headed home.
When we got back in the car, I had a few texts waiting for me—unusual for a Saturday at 2 pm. Back in cell range, I called Grant, my husband. He told me that Andrew Tilin, a dear friend of Sarah’s, a former co-worker of Grant’s, a pal of mine, a talented writer, and one of the best, most authentic, lovely and enthusiastic guys I’ve ever known, was killed in a freak cycling accident that morning. On a bike ride, he made you feel like you could win an Olympic race; during a conversation, he was so deeply engaged, it was flattering.
He was 52, and left behind two beautiful kids and so many friends who couldn’t help but simply adore him. His loss will be felt acutely for many years to come.
Be somebody on whom nothing is lost.
Having known Andrew, I am confident the miles he covered on his bike on Saturday morning, before he met his death, weren’t lost on him.
At the risk of sounding overly sentimental, I am going to try to follow in his footsteps. I am going to do my best to stay present, to notice the rest of the journey until we reach the Grand Canyon Rim.
It may not be bluebird skies and fabulous days the whole way—in fact, I’m very confident it won’t be—but there is always gratitude in noticing the details, always life in staying in the present.
Fast #MotherRunners We Love: Sara Hall
The Hall family. (Credit: Heather Armstrong via NY Times.)
Note: Since February is the month of L❤VE—and the Olympics—we are devoting our Mondays at Another Mother Runner to Fast #Motherrunners we L❤VE. Although their training miles and splits are vastly different than ours, their perspectives—fitting it in, wanting the best from and for themselves—mirror the lives of every busy, ambitious female runner out there.
Sara Hall is a super accomplished runner, but I’m in L❤VE with her family.
Sara Bei Hall has been fast her whole life. At her Santa Rosa, California, high school, she won four state cross-country titles. At Stanford, she was a seven-time All American. There, she met and married Ryan Hall, a pretty fast runner himself (he’s the only American-born runner to break 2:05 in the marathon). A pro track runner, Sara stepped up to the marathon in 2015, set a PR of 2:27 at the Frankfurt Marathon in October, and followed THAT up with the California International marathon just a few weeks later. Which she won.
Sara with husband Ryan after winning CIM in 2:28:10
But it’s how Sara and Ryan formed their family that melts my heart.
In September of 2015, the Halls welcomed into their homes four sisters from Ethiopia: Hana (now 16), Mia (13), Jasmine (9), and Lily (6).
The whole Hall family, in Ethiopian wear
The Halls, who are deeply grounded by their Christian faith, had always felt called to adopt and had a strong connection to Ethiopia, where they traveled frequently to train. They had formed the Hall Steps Foundation, which grants microloans in East Africa.
Like many prospective adoptive parents (including me), the Halls had imagined adopting a baby. But when they met the four sisters in an orphanage in Addis Ababa, learned that the girls had been waiting for a family for years, and reckoned with the dual truths that sibling groups are hard to place and Hana would soon age out of the system, they knew what they had to do. Well, Ryan did at least.
“I felt immediately that God had put love in my heart for these four girls and wanted to adopt them,” Ryan wrote on their blog in 2016. “My wife took a more systematic approach, weighing out the pro’s and con’s and deciding if we were at a point in or lives to be both willing and able to adopt four girls.”
They were. They did. Yay!
The six Halls running in Addis Ababa on the day the girls’ adoption was finalized.
“It’s neat how something that sounds so crazy to you at one point feels totally normal when God gives you the grace,” Sara wrote for Women’s Running.
Today, the Hall clan lives in Redding, California. Ryan retired from professional running in 2016, took to weight lifting, and immediately buffed up (wow!). He coaches the girls’ cross-country teams (cool!), and oh yeah, last February he ran 7 marathons on 7 continents in 7 days (Sara was home with the girls). They also have two dogs, Dash and Kai.
The Halls still travel regularly to Ethiopia, to train and to keep alive the girls’ connection to their home country. Sara speaks Amharic (she went to Stanford, remember?). And oh yeah, she’s training for the Boston Marathon.
This may qualify her as the world’s busiest pro marathon mother.
Putting flowers in? Easy! Taking them out? Not so much.
Which made it hard to pin her down for an interview. But luckily for us, she’s a prolific and beautiful writer, so here are some feel-good reasons to [heart] Sara Hall, in her own words, adapted from their blog.
Why Ethiopia?
We chose to adopt from Ethiopia for a number of reasons, one of which being that there are over 4 million orphans in this country alone and though adoption is only one fractional solution to this orphan crisis, for those few it is life-changing.
What is it like for you to run in Ethiopia?
There are very few foreigners in Ethiopia, so as a white person I am definitely a spectacle, especially in the rural areas. I can’t run anywhere without everyone staring at me unabashedly. Quite often the ensuing comments are encouraging, like “Berchi!” and “Aizersh!” which basically mean, “be strong, good job!” But almost as often I get someone yelling “CHINA! CHINA! CHINA!!” at me (the few foreigners that are here are usually Chinese, contracted to build roads and other city infrastructure, thus it’s assumed that anyone white is Chinese). I usually ignore this good-naturedly, but sometimes I can’t help but playfully respond “Habesha!” (which means “Ethiopian!”) to hopefully show them how silly it is to yell someone’s nationality at them (all with a smile of course!).
The Halls travel to Ethiopia extensively
What is your training/racing philosophy?
A friend once told me as I was heading out to a race “No matter what, keep your peace.” It is something that I draw on constantly. No matter what my external circumstances, it is up to me to keep my peace internally. Rest is not just the absence of work, you can be very busy but be at rest and not stressed internally, something I have to remind myself as a mom. No one or nothing can take your peace if you don’t let it.
When I’m suffering at 9,000 ft. up a hill, trying to keep my pace, and donkeys are cutting me off and people are yelling “CHINA!” at me and a bus whooshes by me from behind, I am practicing keeping my peace.
About sponsorship
Ed note: Sara is a pro athlete for ASICS. The Halls are also sponsored by (and true believers in) Oakley, FitBit, Pacebands, Muscle Milk and Alaska Seafood. These last two turn up in all their recipes, which sound seriously good.
What was it like to have an instant family of six?
The journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s been more than worth it. I’ve come to understand that building a family is a process.
Jasmine makes pancakes. Truthfully, all the Halls love to cook (and eat!)
What is breakfast like in the Hall household?
Every single school day Ryan gets up early and makes the kids pancakes, and usually a chocolate Teff one for me (recipe here). He even will put in a daily “secret ingredient” that the girls have to guess, ranging from a tea-infusion to lemon zest. No joke, we are spoiled!
Hannah wins! She’s a Hall, all right.
A favorite moment:
Watching Hana win her section’s championship in cross country was very special. As the oldest (she’ll be 17 in July), Hana has had the hardest uphill battle, transitioning to high school in the United States—something hard enough when you know the language! When we first met Hana, she told me she wanted to be a runner but had never run a lap in her life. In a short time, she tapped into an incredible talent that provided her with much-needed confidence. I’m so proud of her.
#299: Cross-Training for Runners!
Sarah and co-host Maggie Palmer converse about cross-training with Michele Olson, PhD., a professor of exercise science at Auburn University. The trio debate how to get committed runners to switch up their workouts, with Michele offering assurance that “doing something different isn’t going to make your running go to heck.” Dubbed “the Exercise Doctor,” Michele reveals the cross-training magic pill—and what the prescription for it is. She sings the praises of stationary cycling, especially runners flirting with injury. Maggie professes her love for OrangeTheory Fitness, while Sarah admits she’s crushing on Cyclebar. Dr. Olson explains the power of periodization (note: it’s a delight to hear an expert struggle to pronounce that mouthful-of-a-word!).
In the intro, laugh along with SBS when Maggie discusses having a “safe word” for bailing on a OTF class. The workout expert joins the episode at 16:30.
To enjoy three free Daily Harvest cups, go to daily-harvest.com and use promo code AMR
Running Through It: Kim + an Abusive Marriage
Kim smiles on the trail, a place where she found courage + healing.
[[This is the third in our Running Through It series; today, we hear from #motherrunner Kim Neill and how running helped her leave an emotionally abusive marriage.]]
A few years before I’d actually left my marriage, I was browsing a magazine and stumbled across an article on emotional abuse, a term I wasn’t familiar with even though I’d been living that hell for years—in both my childhood and now in my marriage. Every word of the article resonated true. I started putting the pieces together. The light bulb went off. (This was back in the day when domestic violence was just becoming a public topic.)
My ex-husband was a textbook narcissist: malicious, disrespectful, dangerous. He used all the classic tactics of put-downs, bullying, gaslighting, blaming, sabotage, isolating, controlling, devaluing. He was angry and mean spirited.
He deleted my phone messages so I wouldn’t get them; he was charming and wonderful to everyone but me; he hated my dog and banished him to the outdoors (and was always making the statement about how I loved the dog more than him); he criticized and put down everything important to me; he rarely helped with childcare or household chores but complained endlessly about a mess; he always had an excuse not to help out; he wouldn’t get a job and wanted everyone else to pay his way; he was incapable of being supportive of those closest to him and constantly cut down others to make himself feel good; he was more concerned about his own agenda and convenience than anyone else’s; he would break into a tirade and rage when he didn’t get his way (throwing things at me; slamming doors on my young son and me; yelling.
I was the married “single mother” of a young child and a badly behaving “adult child.”
Running helped me sustained an inner strength. Running allowed me to process my problems, and it gave me hope I’d find solutions. Running was my psychotherapy and meditation. Close running friends provided perspective and options for my situation; they challenged me with the idea of leaving the toxic relationship, and help me breakdown the excuses for staying.
Running help me turn my life around.
During this dysfunctional marriage, my running was also used against me more times than I’d care to say—probably daily, in retrospect. It was the reason the “house was a mess.” It was the reason I was “gone so many hours.” It was the reason he had to “babysit” our son. It was the reason I “got up too early.” It was the reason I “stayed out too late.” It was the reason our marriage failed. (Yes, he actually told people that.)
Not all my runs were blissful, floating miles. There were late night runs down the street to escape the hell. (I had a special wall where I would run to, to sit and cry before returning home.) There were runs where I was so exhausted from the stress that I could barely put one foot in front of another. There were runs cut short due to the guilt I felt leaving my son at home in potential neglect while I was away. There were runs to regain peace of mind so I could return to the nightmare I was living. There were runs that made me “lighter” so I could negotiate walking on eggshells during my non-running hours.
And there were runs that made it clear it was time to make a change.
More miles, more friendships, more support, more clarity on her situation.
The “message” to leave became clearer and clearer, even amongst excuses and rationalizations to stay. Any woman who’s been in an abusive situation whether at work, or in their personal life, is familiar with those rationalizations: part hope; part denial; part survival; part inaction.
Once I resolved that it was ok to leave; that I could leave and my child would survive; that I should leave so I could survive and make a better life for myself and my son, there was no stopping me. The combination of risk, desperation, and strength from all the running miles gave me momentum to make a new life.
Just a few months after a milestone running event (100 miler), I mobilized my inner forces. I moved out and retained an attorney to help me with what would be an extremely difficult divorce and child custody battle. To say this time was stressful and took years off my life is an understatement.
Grateful for the support of my close running friends, family members, and daily runs, I survived a year of stalking, filing restraining orders, nasty phone voicemails, invasive photographs by a private investigator hired by my ex…and on and on. (I am so thankful this happened in pre-social media era, so I didn’t have that added dimension of harassment.)
Through this I continued to run. There were days I was too exhausted to move, yet found a way to get outside and go. Actual mileage became insignificant. I knew daily movement on the trails, in nature and was paramount for my emotional health, so I went.
As a logged mile upon mile, I was able to focus on the hard work of emotional rebuilding and accepting love back into my life. And I’m happy to report that running is how I met the supportive and loving man to whom I’m now married.
Have you Run Through It—a challenging situation or stage in life—at some point? We want to hear from you!
Write up your essay (no more than 1,200 words, please), then email it to us. We’ll be in touch when we can publish it. Thanks!
What We Love, Love, Love about Running
Depending on your current relationship status—or the status of who last emptied the dishwasher even though it was somebody else’s turn—Valentine’s Day can be a tricky holiday.
But there’s one steady partner in our lives that never fails us: running. We asked you recently on Facebook what you loved about running. As usual, you didn’t disappoint. And we loved combing through all the thoughtful responses and pulling out the following, which represent some common themes and a variety of sentiments. Enjoy!
A few years ago I would have said the thrill of competing, of chasing PRs, and always searching for a new goal. Now it’s definitely the friends I’ve gained (including many from this tribe!); they’ve brought so much to my life. —Michelle #1
I love that for the first time in my life, I started doing something and didn’t quit even though I’m not quantitatively very “good” at it. I didn’t quit when I got injured; I didn’t quit when it got hard. I love that running taught me that I can enjoy something without being “the best” at it. —Michelle #2
It makes me feel INVINCIBLE!—Britt
It’s the runners high after a race. It’s like I’m super special! —Liz
It helps with my anxiety. And I can eat a whole thing of Häagen-Dazs, and not see the effects, which also helps with my anxiety. —Joan
So much to love… the peace, the camaraderie, the satisfaction. —Meaghan
Clarity of mind.—Betsy
My awesome running group full of such fun people! —Jane
I love that, no matter how crappy I’m feeling or how much I struggle to get out that door, once I’m finally out of the house and feel my body propelling through space through the sheer power of my muscles, the world looks beautiful and I feel like I’m flying. —Sandra
It makes me realize just how SUPER STRONG I really am. —Kara
Running doesn’t discriminate based on economic, cultural, or sexist grounds. It is open and available to all. It crosses and breaks down barriers, and success or performance is not based on external circumstances. —Jannice
Watching the sun come up and feeling connected to nature.—Michelle
The fresh air on my face, and seeing the world in a way I can’t any other way. —Maureen
The conversations I have in my runs. —Alicia
An additional identity = Mother + Runner. (Badass was always there.) —Sadie
It’s the only time of the day I get to choose the music!—Heather
There is no better feeling than knowing as I run down my driveway after a long Saturday run most people are just getting out of bed. —Anne Marie
What I love about running is that it gives me peace. People may go to church; I go for a run. It is my time with God; I tell him my problem and give thanks for what I have. —Tricia
Having a dream, setting a goal, making a plan, executing that plan into action, achieving the goal, then celebrating! And all along the way, inspiring others. —Tina
It makes me happy. —Susan (BOOM! —Ginny)
I like that the roads and trails are always open for me, no matter what I wear, how I feel, and how fast or slow I want to go.—Donna
Okay, what did we miss?
What do you love about running?
The Struggle Is Real: Power Hour
The (handmade, terribly thoughtful) holiday gift from my sister—a pottery box with my favorite Avett Brothers lyric + my favorite animal—that I hadn’t acknowledged with a proper thank you note. Not cool, Dimity, not cool.
I was struck down by the sinus crud for two-ish weeks. Grateful it wasn’t the flu, I vacillated between feeling decent-ish and wanting to lie on my side, instruct my one of my kiddos to get the power drill, and have them take it to my temple so I could drain.all.the.mucus.
I didn’t exercise for about two weeks, which was the right call physically—lord knows, there isn’t enough chlorine to kill the snot snakes I was producing—but was tough mentally, especially when I was feeling semi-normal. I missed the regular taste of accomplishment, the crispness and momentum of finishing a task that I might not have necessarily wanted to start, but once I got it, I was so glad I did.
I did use the time to go on a little Gretchen Rubin streak; I have tried to read her books before, but something just didn’t click for me. But Ellie Kempton, nutritional guru in the Train Like a Mother Club, regularly refers to different strategies Better than Before, Rubin’s book about creating habits that stick, so I gave it another go.
Two things stuck with me:
First, writing down a daily schedule. Time for writing. Time for social media. Time for exercise. (Easy to lose when you’re not on a specific training plan.) If I don’t put a time around things (either a specific time or an amount of time), I tend to let one thing (usually social media) gobble up hours without even realizing it.
Second, the Power Hour, 60 minutes of time that she devotes on a regular basis to tasks that don’t have a deadline, yet somehow never seem to disappear from the todo list (and, as such, continually demand mental energy). Because she speaks the truth when she writes, Nothing is more exhausting than the task that is never started.
I commenced a Power Hour on a Saturday morning, and tackled these exciting (albeit disgusting) chores:
—Cleaning out the bathtub drain with a tweezers (my daughter’s hair is crazy thick; despite having a plastic “cap” on the drain, plenty of stragglers get through
—Cleaning out the compost bin in the kitchen (to be sure, I do this pretty regularly, but I dread it)
—Dropping off a pile of toys + too-small clothes at Goodwill (a 3-minute drive from our house)
—Writing a way overdue thank-you note (and finally removing my tail from between my legs)
—Registering 11yo for two summer camps (slightly deadline-ish, but there was wiggle room)
I gotta say, it felt surprisingly good to pull clumps of hair out (and not have to buy another bottle of Draino), get rid of the Goodwill piles sitting next to the door, actually put some words on paper that I have composed in my head for weeks.
I checked my watch regularly as I whirred through the tasks. The challenge of getting in all of it within an hour was oddly thrilling, in the same way that going to a new grocery store is thrilling. (Will they have different flavors of my favorite yogurt? The suspense!)
Was my first Power Hour the same as soaking a sports bra? Not quite. But it was beyond lovely to have those tasks cleared from my mental slate. I highly recommend it, especially if you have the sinus crud or another sidelining situation.
I’m back to exercising, so my head is now clear in more ways that one. But not for long…I’m slowly accumulating tasks for my next Power Hour.