AMR Rewind: Daughters Reflect on Running
[[A post from May 2010 and little nostalgia for the moms of Ella, Christian, Halee and Sarah during this Mother’s Day month. If you’re (still) out there, mamas, let us know!]]
As we head down the week that ends in the pancakes-in-bed and homemade-gifts-from-school tradition known as Mother’s Day, we wanted to kick it off with some stories that ended up on the RLAM cutting-room floor for space reasons.
Want to know how your daughter processes your running? Here are four perspectives from daughters whose mothers are fairly serious runners. My take-away: even on days when you’re sure what you say–clean your room, brush your hair, don’t pinch your brother–doesn’t sink in, they soak up your actions and spirit in spades.
Ella and a baby jaguar: is she related to Diego?
Ella: 5 years old
I run with our dog, Babu, a border collie, in the house and in the backyard. Sometimes Cleo, our German shepherd who looks like a police dog, runs too, but not as much as Babu. I’ve also run in races. You have to wear tennis shoes to do races. I win them a little, but all the kids get ribbons. We get a different colored ribbon at every race.
I don’t mind when my mom is out running. Either my dad is home with us, or we have ababysitter. I play with my bucket full of Barbies. Some have blue hair and some have regular hair. So I like it when my mom runs.
At the races my mom and dad do, there’s always lots of food. I like the bagels the most. My mom runs really fast. She likes to keep her medals, so my younger brother doesn’t drop them on the floor or something. But she gives us a hug and a kiss after every race.
Christian and Halee, two butterflies.
Sometimes I run, but it’s very rare. I did a four-mile race with my family when I was in 4th grade, and I had a lot of breathing problems and cramps. I came in last place because of them. I don’t really like competition. I’d rather run for fun.
I have been playing soccer since I was 3. I like doing the drills and the sprints. We have a field in the back of our house, and my mom said she wants me to run around it ten times every day to get ready for soccer. But I’m not doing it because I’m going to try outfor volleyball this fall instead. I’ve never played it. I was practicing a bit this summer, but then I kinda got lazy.
I do like to watch my mom run, though. I thought it was really cool when she ran a marathon. And then, when she did a 50-miler, I was like, “Whoa!” I always like to run in with her when she finishes. That’s always fun.
Halee: 13 years old, and Christian’s sister
I started running in 3rd grade, in a program called Land Sharks because we knew the coach. I ran slowly, but then, in one 800-meter race, I was in the front at the beginning and I just decided I would go. I got 3rd and it felt good.
Last year, in 7th grade, I was on the track and cross-country teams. Our uniforms are nasty. The warm-up outfits are old and huge on us. And they always run out of my size in the clothes we run in.
I guess I like track more. I ran the mile, 800 meters and hurdles, but I pulled a muscle in my back running hurdles, so I’m not going to do those again. In the mile, every race I did I got a PR. My goal for the season was to get under 7 minutes, and I did: I ran a 6:47. It was really hard. On the second lap, I was freaking out and I couldn’t breathe, but my mom was yelling at me to just keep going. After the third lap, I felt great and I sprinted the last lap. My goal for this year is a 6:30 mile at least. I want to get faster in middle school so I can impress the coaches for high school.
My heart is in running. Because, I just feel like if you’re good at something, you should keep doing it.
Sarah: a tiny image but a mighty runner.
Sarah: 19 years old
In 8th grade, I ran a mile in a track and field community day our school hosted. I hadn’t played sports before that, and it was the first mile I ever ran. I finished in 6:02, and thought
it was awfully hard and long. I was pretty sure that was the end of that, but my mom forced me—just a little—to go out for the cross-country team the following year. I had no idea what cross-country was, and I was worried about losing my identity. I’ve never been much of a team player.
Once school started, I actually liked being on the team, but even more, I love the fact that, in running, you’re responsible for whether you win or lose. I won state my junior year, and was third at the Junior Olympic National Cross-Country Meet my senior year.I’m now a runner at Western Washington University, where I run cross-county, indoor and outdoor track. My PR for the 5K is 16:50, and for the 10K is 34:58. Right now, I’m running 125-mile training weeks over the summer. I don’t think I need to go much higher than that.
After college, I’m setting my sights on the marathon; I want to run in the Olympic Trials in 2012. Right now, my mom has me beat at long distance. When we first started running together, we went down to the track and my dad timed her in the mile. She ran 8 something, and was red faced and exhausted. Now she can run a marathon in less than a 6:30 pace. She’s amazing.
When I was growing up, running was how my mom stayed in shape after having four kids. But she also taught me that whenever I get stressed out, just go for a run. Now, running means a lot more to both of us. Although we run the majority of our miles alone, we occasionally head out together. The other night, while my dad and brother were on a camping trip, we decided to make it a girls’ night and go for a run in dresses. She wore a flowery one, I wore a white, flowing one. We talked about how much nicer it is to run in a dress—no chafing. We just did four miles that night.
Racing for Fun: Six Ways to Take Your Eyes off the Clock
Extra credit for stopping for a pyramid photo mid-race.
You register for a race with the promise that you will not miss a run, a strength circuit, a rest day. You are ALL IN. Then something goes off the rails: your IT band won’t stop whining; your house is invaded by inlaws or a flooded basement or the flu (or all three!); your boss decides that your workload isn’t substantial enough.
Your best intentions morph to a-C+-is-still-passing, right? mentality. Which is ok because C+ IS still passing.
Do you still pin on your bib and head to your corral? We vote yes—with the caveat that you go in with a mentality and a goal that focuses on something other than what your finishing time is. One more caveat: We don’t vote yes if it’s a marathon, and you’ve missed big swaths of your training (read: more than two consecutive weeks, a handful of long runs). Going 26.2 miles on a body that isn’t ready for hours on your feet will likely result in injury, burnout or just plain totally bummed out. Switch to half-marathon distance, if that’s available.
When you do pin on that bib, here are six helpful and fun focus points on besides your splits and/or finishing time:
Practice pacing.
Whether you’re in a 5k or a half-marathon, the most effective strategy is to start slowly and speed up through the race. Even though we understand that rationally, most of us have trouble executing that in real life. Use this opportunity to do that: If that means starting with a mile split that is 2 minutes slower than your regular race pace, great. That gives you lots of space to speed up.
Practice passing.
A variation on the pacing theme, run your race at an effort with this goal: to pass as many people as possible in the last mile of the race. You’ll need to slow your roll in the early miles so you can fire it up in the last.
Create a race within a race.
If you feel like your legs have, say, a strong 10k in them—but you’re signed up for 13.1 miles—take the first three miles as a warm-up. Turn up the gas for the next 6.2 miles, then use the rest of the race as a cool down. (Same for a 10k/5k situation.) Rely momentum and energy of your fellow runners to keep your effort high. Even if your mini race is not an official PR that lives on the internet, it’s also not fake news.
Use it as a training run.
If your life looks pretty clear for the next few months, sign up for another race, adjust your training plan, and use this one as a training run. Keep your pace easy throughout, and enjoy the aid stations—and your empty pockets.
Collect something.
On the course, collect high-fives from volunteers and the crowd; sayings for posters you want to make in the future; laughs and smiles from the costume you are wearing; selfies at every aid station. If you’re feeling really virtuous, you could pick up random wrappers and other garbage and dispose of them at the next aid station. (Just be sure not to trip up your fellow runners as you grab discarded Cup O’ Noodle cups.)
Be a cheerleader.
The longer the race, the easier it is to have mental monkeys—you should’ve trained harder, you’re not even a runner—come screeching and taunting. Keep out of your own head by chatting up your fellow runners. Hang with somebody for a few miles—or just a few steps, depending on the vibe he or she is giving off. Chances are, you’ll remember the conversation much longer than the actual run.
Has your race training ever gone off the rails? (Not a rhetorical question.) If so, what strategy did you take to your race?
#309: Tips for Traveling to “Away” Running Races
Sarah and co-host Molly pick the brains of three experienced runners who have not only raced 1,000s of miles, but have traveled across the U.S. and around the globe to do it! First up is Katie Ho, co-founder of RaceRaves, an online community/app that she dubs “TripAdvisor but for races.” Katie gives loads of advice, including packing tips and how to choose the best “away” race for you. Katie, Molly, and SBS chew on the topic of food while away from home, especially pre-race eats. Next is Sandi Borgman, a repeat AMR Podcast guest who’s run half- and full marathons in places as far flung as Iceland, Berlin, and Paris. Sandi quickly tosses out one of the best quips ever, involving being on vacation with a person who’s tapering. She quickly outdoes that gem with a cautionary tale about lubing up mid-race with what she thought was Vaseline. (Ouch!!) Despite having run all the World Marathon Majors(minus Tokyo), Sandi sings the praises of opting for away 13.1-mile races rather than 26.2-mile ones. A veteran of 20 marathons (!!) in her 10 years of running, Sandi shares brilliant on-course advice. The final guest is Lorelei Suehrstedt. (Caution: Don’t trip when you hear how many races (half-marathons, marathons, and ultras) in the five years she’s been running!) Lorelei lets rip a fabulous one-liner about mouth breaking, when she suggests thinking about various race conditions when choosing a destination race. This road warrior gives loads of great advice about both driving and flying to races. The trio talk about the importance of looking at the cost of the entire race trip, and Lorelei offers sage tips about booking accommodations. And laugh at talk of supportive spouses, including finding out who “Saint Craig” is.
In the intro, Molly teaches Sarah a new (for SBS) mash-up: “proma.” The first guest joins the convo at 17:18.
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Thanks to Aaptiv for supporting our podcast. New members, get 30% off annual membership at aaptiv.com/AMR30
Five Great Destination Races to Dream About + Bonus Pro Tips!
I was sitting in the gate area for my flight out of Newark Airport, flipping through paperwork for that weekend’s marathon, when I realized I had made a BIG GIANT MISTAKE.
The year was 2005, in the era BC (before child) and BSP (before smart phone).
I was on my way to Lincoln, Nebraska, to meet my big sister, Leslie, her boyfriend, Pat, and my dear friend and running pal Jodi. Leslie and Jodi were doing the 50 States—that is, a marathon in each of the United States—and because this was the era BC AND I had recently joined the staff of Runner’s World, I thought maybe I’d do the 50 States too. Hence the Lincoln Marathon.
[Full disclosure: Though I was on staff at RW at the time, I did all of the races mentioned herein—with one noted exception—on my own time and dime, meaning I paid for travel, accommodations, food, and race-entry fees.]
Chasing the 50 States in Nashville, in the era BC (Before Child): Sister’s BF Pat, friend Jodi, Sister Leslie, and me with eyes closed!
And man, was I organized! As I sat there waiting for the announcement for my flight to begin boarding, I paged through all the documents I had printed out (because this was the era BSP): Hotel reservation, car-rental reservation, menus from several vegetarian-friendly pre-race-dinner restaurant possibilities, driving directions from the airport to the expo, from the expo to the hotel, from the hotel to the starting line. Check, check, check, check.
There was only one thing missing.
Race registration.
I HAD FORGOTTEN TO SIGN UP FOR THE RACE.
“Flight 426 is now ready for boarding at gate A43. Please proceed to the boarding area.”
Registering for a race AT the race may mean you get a generic cotton T instead of a “technical race shirt.” But I love this shirt!
Destination Races
I don’t have to tell you that they provide a perfect reason and motivation to travel, a unique way to experience a location (see the sites on foot—literally!), and are especially fun if you get to go with like-minded friends.
Racing away from home also provides its own unique challenges.
(And yes, destination races are also EXPENSIVE endeavors. Once my baby girl came into my life, I dropped the idea of doing the 50 States. My sister—who is both older than me and started her family earlier than I did, meaning her kids are all grown up—went on to finish her 50th state in 2015. Jodi finished her 50 State tour in 2011. Yay!)
My destination races are all marathons because that’s how I started traveling to events, and I’m stubborn.
Yours can be a half-marathon, or a 5K for that matter. Or just go on vacation! I’m sure you need one!
My sister (in pink boa) at her 50 State Finish Party, with (from left) me, Pat, Mother, her son, Josh, and her daughter, Beth. Jodi (below) with her 50 State Marathon Medal Map.
FIVE GREAT DESTINATION RACES + BONUS PRO TIPS
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Big Sur Marathon, Carmel, California
“What’s the most fun marathon you ever did?” my friend Rick recently asked.
FUN?? Marathons are hard.
“Well, the most SCENIC marathon I ever did was Big Sur,” I said. (Rick gets so annoyed with me for never answering a question directly.)
Dramatic, sweeping Pacific Ocean vistas. The famous Highway 1 closed to cars. Hurricane Point. A classical pianist playing on the Bixby Bridge. Ripe strawberries at mile 23.
In Big Sur 2011, I ran into long-time friend Jannetje ON THE COURSE! How cool is that?
Big Sur is also HARD. Many years ago a friend warned me to expect to add at least 20 minutes to my usual marathon time. Which is why I postponed going until I worked it for RW. (And yes, working at the Big Sur Marathon is definitely an honor and a privilege but also an exhausting challenge. BEFORE you get to the start line! I am not Bart Yasso!)
With its steep hills and potentially howling headwinds, you have to set aside hopes of a fast time or a PR—even set aside your Garmin, if you can stand it—and just revel in the experience. You’re in Big Sur! What’s the rush?
There are probably people who run fast times when they travel to races (raise your hand, please), but that person isn’t me. I need my own bed, time zone, food stuffs.
PRO TIP: Leave your hopes of setting a world record at home. Enjoy the journey!
2. Two Oceans Marathon, Cape Town, South Africa
“But wait,” said Rick. “Are you saying Big Sur is more scenic than Two Oceans Marathon?”
Oh! But Two Oceans isn’t a marathon. It’s actually 56 kilometers (or 35-ish miles).
“But they call it a marathon,” said Rick. Those crazy South Africans!
Two Oceans is actually similar to Big Sur. See dramatic ocean vistas and many steep hills. Organizers bill it as “The World’s Most Beautiful Marathon.” See also a 7-hour cutoff time, which works out to a 12:30 pace, which isn’t that “slow” when you’re talking 35-ish miles!
Rick and Nina on the hiking (and photographing and driving) safari in Kruger National Park; me running the Two Oceans Marathon.
Two Oceans was on my friend Jodi’s bucket list, and when I saw that it lined up with Spring Break last year, I signed on too. (Again I must note that I did it on my own time and dime, though I was also employed, which meant the expense wasn’t quite as scary.)
Bonus: I found a three-day hiking safari in Kruger National Park to do in the first half of our trip—which I wanted my then-12-year-old to experience and I knew passionate photographer Rick would enjoy. (The race was at the end, which was perfect for adjusting to the change in time zones and diets.)
PRO TIP: Plan fun non-race-related activities to reward your traveling companions.
3. St. George, Utah
Speaking of scenic, St. George is run against a gorgeous, stark red-rock backdrop. It starts at 6:45 a.m., so you see the sun rise and light up the mesa in brilliant shades of red, orange and yellow with high-contrast shadows. AND it’s practically all downhill, so if you’re determined to run a fast destination marathon, this could be your best bet. In fact, this was the one marathon in my sister’s 50 states where she broke 4 hours.
Downhills punish your quads and calf muscles: Yes, I ran a Boston-qualifying time, but could barely limp a 2-mile walk around Zion National Park the next day.
Important caveat: I lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico, at the time, so I was traveling DOWN in altitude.
PRO TIP: If your race is at a higher altitude than where you live, manage your pace expectations (that is, SLOW DOWN) and pay particular attention to hydration.
4. Marathon du Medoc, Bordeaux, France
Okay, Rick, this was probably the most “fun” marathon.
The Bordeaux Marathon runs through 23 vineyards in France, and wine is served ON THE COURSE.
Surely that is hyperbolic overstatement, I thought. No one would actually drink WINE in a marathon.
At the first aid station around the 5K mark, the ENTIRE RACE stopped at the tables to sip not Gatorade but RED WINE. In a real glass! Those crazy French runners!
Runners dress in costume. Endless bottles of red and white wine are plunked down on the tables of the pre-race dinner at Chateau Marquis de Terme in Margaux, which also features dancing till the wee hours—the night before the marathon! Sacre bleu!
Tish (left) and Jodi in “costume” (see the Liberty bell headpiece?) relaxing after the Bordeaux Marathon. Important note: Jodi did NOT drink wine before and during the marathon! (No comment about Tish.)
PRO TIP: If you drink red wine before, during, and after a marathon, and dance until the wee hours the night before the race, after which you have a hard time finding your hotel, and as a consequence don’t get enough sleep, don’t be surprised if you set a Slowest Time Ever. Fun!
5. PARIS
Oh, wait. I haven’t actually done this one yet!
The Paris Marathon lines up with next year’s Spring Break.
It falls at the beginning of our Spring Break week, which my friends Susan and Julie, both of whom ran it last year, claim is perfect: You get the run over with early and then don’t have to feel guilty about eating all the croissants and drinking all the wine afterward.
Susan with husband Bret after the post-marathon celebratory dinner. Sweet!
I have my hesitations—namely, I no longer have a JOB. (Hello, diminishing bank account.)
On the other hand, my daughter will be in ninth grade, and in her last remaining pre-college years (good-bye bank account), I’d love to share EXPERIENCES with her.
On podcast 307, Sarah talked dreamily of the Paris Marathon.
Of course, couldn’t we just go to Paris without running a marathon?
Nah, said the stubborn runner.
PRO TIP: International mid-race aid stations are NOT the same as the ones in the U.S. Everything is different: sports drink, gels, even the water. Prepare your mind for that reality. Plan accordingly.
BONUS PRO TIP: Remember to sign up for the race BEFORE your flight.
How about you?
WHAT DESTINATION RACE IS ON YOUR BUCKET (OR FANTASY) LIST?
Dry Martini: Blossoming in D.C.
I’ve resisted visiting D.C. as an adult. Given that I grew up on the East Coast and have family in Baltimore, my memories contain at least a trip or two to all of the expected sites: the Smithsonians, the Monuments, the Founding Documents. My own kids have been, too — and without my involvement, whether with grandparents or their schools. I checked D.C. off of the list of places I needed to go.
Then I started running. Then I kept running. Then I saw pictures from the Cherry Blossom Ten Mile Run on social media and caught a case of FOMO. Cherry blossoms might just be my all-time favorite symbol of spring rebirth, so much so that I’ve pondered tattooing a stylized version on my body somewhere. What has held me back is that I’m looking for a spot that won’t wrinkle or sag too much, which leaves out most of me.
I made a friend on my way to the Expo.
I decided that 2018 would be my Cherry Blossom year. Then I promptly started stalking the online bloom predict-er in addition to the weather. When race weekend finally rolled around, my non-running-but-always-game-for-a-road-trip buddy Jenny and I packed up the Subaru and drove south (and a little west) through springtime sleet and snow.
Let me now apologize for all of the non-feelings I had for my nation’s capital. It is a spectacular city, one that I can’t wait to go back to. Even when I subtract the joy I received from eating cupcakes daily — it was my birthday weekend and my gift to myself was unlimited cupcakes — I still had fantastic time dipping in and out of museums and walking around and around monuments.
I also might have simply been giddy because there were daffodils and green lawns, even when it was rainy. I spent the weekend drunk on spring and that feeling carried me into the BAMR meet-up at at Potomac Running’s D.C. store. A dozen mother runners (plus a few fathers and kiddos) dropped by to pick-up swag and talk running. As one does.
Some throwback AMR merch!
One of the mother runners — and now I wish I’d kept better (or, really, any) notes so I could cite her by name — compared starting corrals to a mullet. It’s all business in the front and a party in the back. Truer words have never been uttered.
The next morning, under a clear but windy a.f. sky, I wandered back to the most righteous of all the party corrals. We were in the shadow of the Washington Monument and about to head out into blossoms just the slightest bit past peak. My only goal was to run my ten miles before the course closed.
Waiting for the start in the party corral.
Then we were off. My super-chill party corral turned into a bunch of Kenyans racing like there was money on the line. I couldn’t slow down without causing a massive pileup. I held with the speedy pack and clipped off miles that were much faster than I’d expected. What was amazing was how good they felt, even though I strongly suspected that I’d regret them later.
Except I didn’t. Despite a case of runner ennui (that passing feeling during a long run of being bored by running but knowing you still have many miles to go) at mile six, I felt speedy and strong. The sun was shining. The wind was less windy. The scenery was divine. And I didn’t have to pee too much.
I crossed the finish in 2:00:44. I’m kicking myself for not pushing a little bit harder at the end to earn a “1” as the first number. Ah, well. There’s a life lesson buried in there somewhere but I’m still riding the bliss of such a smooth race to want to dig for it.
Yes, I was trying to take a bite out of my medal. I was starving.
Once I made it back to our room and showered, Jenny and I headed out for brunch. While I was stiff and sluggish, I thought my brain was doing OK. Until the very nice Metro guy let me know that the turnstile wouldn’t work if I kept trying to pay my fare using my hotel key card rather than my Metro card.
I’ve made a note for next time D.C. Because, like Arnold, I will be back.
Have you held a pace that you never, ever thought you could? What was your first response?
Perform Like a Mother: Join Us on Tuesday, April 24 to Build Mental Fitness
While snow seems to be as persistent as our kids pleas for sugar, fall races—and all miles of physical work you put into the training—are right around the corner.
As you focus on your goals for the rest of 2018, we encourage you to heavily recruit the most influential organ in your body: Your brain. The Perform Like a Mother Series, three sessions of mental fitness training with sports psychologist Dr. Justin Ross, will help you make your mind as strong as your quads are.
The first session in the series, Setting a High-Performance Foundation, is happening this Tuesday, April 24 at 7-8:30 pm ET/4-5:30 pm PT.
The 90-minute session is limited to 20 registrants, and the cost is just $20—but the advice you’ll learn will help you with every mile you run from here on out.
You’ve seen the scenario play out before: You start something running-related—a training program, a tempo session on the track, a self-care practice like foam rolling, your target race—and you are gung ho.
You are confident you will NAIL IT this time, despite your history telling you otherwise.
Then the flu invades your house, and three weeks of missed workouts fly by.
Or, demoralized by your splits, you quit the workout halfway through.
Or dinner prep + gymnastics carpool duties + endless emails derail your evening foam rolling plans. (And you were going to plank during every commercial, too!)
Or you get to mile 11 of your half-marathon, totally on goal pace, but your legs are pissed and your mind has WTF on repeat, so you let yourself off the hook.
Here’s the thing: Your intentions aren’t bad. You’re not weak or wishy-washy or wrong.
You just need an assist from the complex organ that lives in your head—a.k.a your brain. It happens to play the starring role in how the rest of your organs and muscles function.
In order to optimize your running, you eat well, you do your push-ups and planks and squats, you foam roll (occasionally, at least).
In order to thrive, you also need to address your mental skills: things like learning how to channel thoughts, deal with anxieties, set appropriate goals, and manage your internal dialogue. When you do that, you can execute the training cycle, race or season—or all three!— that you desire.
Setting a High-Performance Foundation, the first in the Perform Like a Mother series, is on Tuesday, April 24 at 7-8:30 pm ET/4-5:30 pm PT. It is limited to the first 20 registrants. The cost is just $20—but the advice you’ll learn will help you with every mile you run from here on out.
In the 90-minute session, Dr. Justin Ross and your group of #motherrunners will: