The Struggle is Real: In Between Short + Long Hair
My portraits—and hairstyles—from preschool through ninth grade. Longest hair: top row, right. What my hair looks like these days: middle row, right. (Who else turned up their collars?)
I’ll admit up front that this post is not really related to running.
Except that it kind of is because a ponytail—or, I should say, one potential ponytail—is involved. And everybody knows you wear a ponytail when you run, if the length of your hair merits it.
The length of my hair has never, ever merited a ponytail. The longest it’s ever been is shoulder-length, and those long, lustrous hair days were exclusively when I rode an elementary school bus. It seems it was chopped (my decision? I can’t remember) somewhere around 3rd grade, and despite my intentions to grow it out in 5th, I quickly retreated back.
(For the record, during this trip, I also got stopped in the women’s bathroom and told I was in the wrong place.)
So for 95% of my life, my hair has been short. And I’ve liked it that way for a variety of reasons. Ease of use: a little water, a little juushing, and it’s almost as good as new. Saves on shampoo and product. <3 minutes to blow dry, if I choose to, which I usually don’t. Provides a little sass in a world of long + straight. Integrates all of my gazillion cowlicks with relative ease.
If I’m being honest, I also don’t have the patience for long hair. Or at least for growing long hair. I head down that long-tresses road, thinking this will be the time I can finally deal with that in-between weirdness (see above picture, middle row, right). Then I’ll be emptying the dishwasher or checking Twitter, and, despite my not even thinking or touching my hair, total exasperation just hits without warning.
“If I don’t get my hair cut stat,” I think, “I am going to lose my sh*t.”
Then I make an appointment, which is usually a week away. By the time it rolls around, I’m back to being ok, but I’ve had that moment, and I know it’ll come again. So I get chopped.
Anytime I’ve left it up to my stylist on how to cut my hair—I’m pretty low maintenance in that regard—I always end up with some variation on this theme. (But I love this picture, recording the audiobook of Run Like a Mother.)
That said, I never had many style options with sassy + short. I could throw a bobby pin in for the simple sake of accessorizing—and trust me, that simplicity is a difficult look to nail—but beyond that, it pretty much looks the same whether I am running or trying to look radiant for a night out. Just me, a crazy determined cowlick, a forehead that won’t quit, and a few wisps.
Pretty short here on a visit to NYC with the then 10 yo.
Lately, though, I’ve been growing it out, also for a variety of reasons. At this point in my life, there isn’t much on my body I can change with no effort, but hair is one of them. God bless follicles: They grow whether we ask them to or not. (To be sure, my hair is also changing without approval: Grays multiply like rabbits in a cage.)
(If I’m being honest, there isn’t much in my life right now I can change without it creating waves in areas that would benefit from feeling rocked. With two adult freelancers, one teenager, and one loud + energetic 12-year-old living under the same roof, status quo is a pretty lovely thing.)
I’ve always admired the ease with with somebody can twist up her (or his) long hair; throw it into a ponytail and pull out some sexy wispys; create braids or ringlets (not terribly sexy, I realize); and suddenly have a totally different look. I may never live in Paris or launch myself off a cliff like Thelma + Louise, but I could maybe have the French-like experience of creating a twist with my locks. (And maybe I’ll eat a croissant while I’m done up. Oo la la!)
Athletically speaking, I daydream about wearing a visor and have it not look weird. (Visor + short hair: doesn’t look weird on all people. But it does on me.) I’ve always been intrigued about how it would feel to have a ponytail swish when I run. I’d like my hair not to totally flair out of my bike helmet.
And there’s a practical side to this all right now too: My stylist, already a bit of a haul to get to, moved 45 minutes in the other direction, so she’s out. I had one (pretty pricey) cut right before the AMR Retreat in Ogden, and it just felt blech.
I’m not averse to paying for a good haircut—it’s the one thing you wear everyday, right?—but I am averse to paying a haircut from a stylist I don’t really know, especially when I sit down in his/her chair and am wishy-washy about what want.
Right now, my hair is very in between. Not long enough for real ponytail, but I can gather a few locks in a baretted one that screams TRYING TOO HARD. I’ve also got random layers that are best classified as wings.
On the plus side, I’ve been living in that awkward no-style for so long, I think I may have just settled in. On the other side, I’m not sure all of this growing will be worth it: What if I finally get my ‘tail and it just wilts?
The only way to tell is to wait and see. Although you never know: I may be in the (TBA) stylist’s chair next week. Stay tuned…
Hairstyles: Are you wed to one basic style? Why or why not? How about growing out hair? Tips or tricks?
Time-Crunched #Motherrunner: The Best 30-Minute Run?
Driving is my Mom Superpower: to swim practice, to camp, to work, to Taylor Swift concert! Photo taken BEFORE the rain and wind.
Thirty minutes. Forty minutes, tops.
This summer, early morning drives to drop my daughter at swim practice followed by a long traffic-choked commute to a desk job have squeezed my run time to shorter and shorter increments. I pack breakfast and lunch the night before, forego makeup, and quit walking the dogs. (Sorry, guys.) Still, it’s Go, go, go!
Once upon a time, 30 minutes meant 3 miles. Or even close to 4 at a tempo pace.
FALL ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING.
No, but really, even with “just” 30 minutes (or 40, if I’m pushing my luck), I do want to make good use of my run time. Maximize efficiency and return on investment, to borrow business jargon. What can I do?
Yes, some days (many days) that means logging whatever I can—2.5 miles (3 on those luck-pushing mornings), generally speaking. (And I recognize that for some mothers, even having 30 minutes to yourself is a rare privilege and treat.)
My best ROI 30-minute workout was inspired by a conversation I had with recently Martin Gibala, a professor of kinesiology at McMaster University in Ontario.
Martin Gibala, professor of kinesiology at McMasters University, is the expert who helped propel the popularity of HIIT.
Gibala is the expert at the forefront high intensity interval training—better known as HIIT, in which you go as hard as you can for bursts of 30 or more seconds, recover and repeat. You have probably done (or at least heard about) HIIT workouts, maybe in Peloton studios or Orange Crush. HIIT is the top fitness trend of 2018, according to the American College of Sports Medicine.
Fun fact sidebar: Way back in 1902, Joe Binks set the world mile record by training one evening per week for 30 minutes. Though he didn’t call HIIT by its trendy acronym, Binks warmed up, ran five or six 110 yards (or the straightaway on a track) at top speed, finishing the workout with a fast 200 to 300 yards. His world record time was 4:16.8. (The current record is 3:43.13.)
Numerous studies have proven the benefits of HIIT for everyone from overweight or obese beginning exercisers to elite athletes. A meta-analysis published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine in 2016 showed that a program of 12 weeks of HIIT improved Vo2 max, waist circumference, blood pressure, and percentage body fat among overweight volunteers.
“For folks just starting out, I can pretty much guarantee that incorporating any type of interval training is going to give them a boost in performance,” Gibala told me. His own studies have proven the effectiveness and promoted the popularity of HIIT, as BAMR Gretchen Reynolds has oft reported in her Phys Ed columns in the New York Times.
Dogs say: “Wait, if you have only 30 minutes, shouldn’t you be walking us instead of RUNNING??”
Of course, most training plans include interval workouts like 800s or half-mile repeats to improve fitness, efficiency, and endurance.
Elite athletes rely on intervals to crank up fitness. Desi Linden, who won this April’s cold and stormy Boston Marathon, famously completes 10 half-mile repeats at faster than marathon pace leading up to goal events. For Linden, that translates to around 2:43 per half mile. (Faint.)
But sustaining longer intervals requires a slower “fast” pace than short HIIT sessions, which call for going all-out (80 to 90 percent of maximum effort for 30-90 seconds). And with just 30 (to 40) minutes, I’d be lucky to get in one mile or maybe two half-mile repeats, if I cheat the cool down. And let’s get real: Even if I had the time, I am never going to do 10 half-mile repeats.
But also, I’m not going to go “all out,” not even for 30 seconds. Because frankly, that sounds hard and possibly even scary.
Can runners benefit from HIIT, even if they don’t go all out? Yes, said Gibala. “People who regularly incorporate some harder sprints into their runs will see their performance improve.”
Best 30 minute score: Dashed into local Jack Rabbit running shop 30 minutes before closing and found sweet sneaks in my size in sale pile. $61! Yes!
Gibala doesn’t run anymore, because knees. (Hmmmm.) He does HIIT on a bike or in the pool, and said if you mix up your running with cross-training, you can do up to 50 percent of your workouts at HIIT.
IMPORTANT NOTE: Because HIIT workouts stress your heart, muscles, joints, and tendons more than a traditional slower workout, it’s best to approach them after you have a baseline of fitness to reduce the risk of injury.
In reality, you reap gains from speed work any way you pick up the pace—whether with old-fashioned half-mile repeats or with searing bursts at 80 to 90 percent of your maximum heart rate.
“Interval training just means alternating periods of higher intensity with periods of lower effort,” Gibala told me. “Varying the pace gives you bigger gains than exercising in a continuous state, even if you’re walking.”
Pro tip: If you are alone on your local track at 6 a.m. (as I do), run some laps in the OPPOSITE direction to decrease injury risk.
My own 30-minute solution is inspired by both Gibala and Joe Binks. I only do it once a week, because I’m still nervous about injury-risk (or I’m just lazy): A 10-minute jog to the high school track, 10 minutes of running the straightaways “fast” (in reality, “less slow”) pretending I am Shalane Flanagan, then 10 minute jog back home.
I’m not going to set any world records, but those hopped-up 30-minute workouts definitely make me feel for the rest of the day like a true BAMR.
What is your best workout—running or otherwise—when you have a sleek 30 minutes?
#322: Talking TMI Topics with a Former Runner’s World Editor
Sarah and co-host Molly Williams keep it real (very real!) with guest Meghan Kita, author of How to Make Yourself Poop: And 999 Other Tips All Runners Should Know and a former editor at Runner’s World. The trio covers an array of TMI topics, leaving no turd, uh, stone unturned. Meghan, a first-time mom with a 5-month-old baby, starts by oversharing about her return to running post-baby, as she explains (in some detail!) why she saw a pelvic-floor physical therapist. From there, Meghan details how she juggles breastfeeding, pumping, and running. There’s piles of poop advice, including three tips for getting things moving pre-run. Molly explains why caffeine affects the urgency to pee—and how to ease that issue. Molly asks Meghan several male-oriented questions—then makes an outrageous admission that sends SBS into peals of laughter. The conversation changes to chafing, including a clever solution when a tee or socks are rubbing the wrong way on a run. Meghan proves why she’s the McGyver of the running world. All in all, an informative + hilarious episode! This week’s Nuun-drinking game: Toss some back whenever someone says the words “hot dog.” (Just be careful to not spew the hydration while laughing!) In the intro, the two running buddies reminisce about their June trip to Alaska, and SBS shares an update about her elderly mother. The TMI expert hops on at 18:55.
If you’re interested in details about joining group of #motherrunners training for 3 Days at the Fair road ultra, please sign up here.
Running Through It: Sarah + Career Transition
Finishing the dissertation is just the beginning! Ph.D. graduation, 6 months pregnant, and feeling invincible. (Seven hours into the ceremony, feet will be swollen and invincibility will have faded a bit.)
[[Today, as we return to the Running Through It series, Sarah, a Massachusetts-based #motherrunner, talks about abandoning her original career dreams—and how running has brought clarity to her situation.]]
Letting go of my first career: that’s what I’m running through right now.
Until June 30th, 2018, I had a title: College Fellow in Italian. I taught college and graduate courses in Italian literature; I wrote; I went to conferences; and, because every position at my level is a limited appointment, I applied for jobs constantly. When I got my Ph.D. in 2015, I assumed I would spend a couple of years doing this, but I had no idea how much it would eventually wear me down.
Sometime this past winter, I began to fantasize with growing seriousness about making the conscious decision to end the agonizing process of putting myself out there —and being rejected—over and over.
That decision took the form of buying our first house this summer. My husband has been quietly scrolling through Zillow for years, hoping that my career would take us somewhere where we could finally settle down. University of Alabama is hiring? Look at these gorgeous homes in Tuscaloosa! Whenever I applied for a job, he scouted listings, and we told ourselves that as long as we could be flexible, that tenure-track position would eventually come.
Sometime this past winter, I felt ready to say how tired I was of being flexible. I started participating in the Zillow fantasizing, and soon the prospect of roots, stability, and staying in one place longer than two years fired me up more than any job posting I had seen in months. In June, we closed on our beautiful condo.
It’s on a quiet street in an awesome neighborhood with kids my daughter’s age next door who invite her to swing on their swing set whenever we walk by. We have a lawn to mow and way too much cilantro growing on the porch. This sweet, comfortable new home also means the end of applying for jobs nationwide, the end of being ready to move at the drop of a hat. And that’s ok. It is time to be done, to give myself to other areas of my life, and to find new work that makes me feel valued again. The indefinite uncertainty of the academic life is no longer right for me, regardless of how successful I may or may not have had the potential to be.
In retrospect, though, I can see that I wasn’t ready to leave academia until I could believe I was worth something more than the lines on my CV. I had to cultivate that belief within myself.
Love from the outside has always been in abundant supply, thanks to my wonderful family and friends. But love from the inside? That’s harder for me to come by. It has, thankfully, grown out of running.
I started running in 2005, around the same time I enrolled in Beginning Italian. I had no prior history with either, but college turned out to be a time of discovering new things and falling in love with them. My husband came along in 2005, too: a tall bass-player dude with long hair who seemed like the least likely person for me to date. We worked, though, in part because I had so much in my life to sustain me. My Italian professors treated my running as a reliable constant, composing sample sentences in class such as “Sarah ran this morning, Sarah will run tomorrow morning – right, Sarah?”
August 2015: teaching summer school in Tuscany, huffing and puffing my way to the top of the tower at the top of the hill at 32 weeks pregnant. Luckily, I had a spotter: college boyfriend—now husband—somehow still around!”
I was always running, in all tenses. As I ran, I would find myself almost absentmindedly translating song lyrics into Italian, only realizing it when I got stuck on a difficult verse that just wouldn’t resolve itself.
Falling in love with Italian and running (and the boyfriend, for that matter) brought a quiet worry that I might somehow lose them, through laziness or inertia or some other character deficiency. Yet, every day I woke up and there they were.
When I went to Ferrara, Italy, for a semester of my junior year, I began training for the Florence marathon. In 18 weeks of training, I did not skip a single run. Marathon day (November 26th, 2006) was one of the best days of my life, and I remember telling myself as it unfolded to hold onto every moment for as long as possible.
From somewhere before the halfway point all the way to the finish line, I ran alongside two U.S. army guys stationed in Italy, the first Americans I had been around in months. We quoted favorite TV shows and thrived on the warm familiarity we found together. After mile 20, things got pretty quiet, and then around mile 23, one of my new friends admitted that if it hadn’t been for me, he would have stopped to walk long before that point. I don’t remember their names, we didn’t take a photo together (who would run a marathon with a camera?), and after a finish-line high-five, we parted ways.
Università degli Studi di Ferrara, where I spent 6 months running, studying and running.
Since that day, I have run and run and run in search of all the feelings the Florence Marathon gave me. I was tough, I did know how to work hard. Most importantly, my tenacity and my belief in myself had actually helped another person believe in himself and keep going. Feeling these feelings alongside other people is what I love about running, and though I have lost sight of it a few times over the years, the struggles of my professional life have made it abundantly clear how much I need it.
When I started running, I didn’t even dare to hope that I would still be doing it 10 years later, but there I was in January of 2015 running a half marathon in South Florida, where I had continued running despite living in the climate of my nightmares. (Floridians who run, I eternally salute you.)
Then, two weeks later, I learned I was pregnant. Over the following nine months, I finished my doctoral dissertation in Italian literature; graduated with my Ph.D.; taught summer study abroad in Italy for two months; gave birth to a baby girl; and began applying for academic jobs everywhere in the country. As parenthood consumed my body and my brain, I covered it up for the job market. I wrote cover letters, created course syllabi from scratch, presented at conferences, conducted interviews over Skype, and got my first several rejections.
First job interview postpartum, January 2016 – suck in your tummy, pretend you’re not lactating and you got this! Worth it for a hotel room to myself for 2 nights, even if I was still waking up at midnight to pump.
I hadn’t been able to run for most of my pregnancy, but by November of 2015 it was time to climb out of the hole of worthlessness I was in: Despite my exhaustion, I struggled into a two-sports-bra-getup and went out to jog through the steamy Florida heat for just a little while, a couple of mornings a week. Around the same time, a dear friend recommended a podcast called Another Mother Runner, and in Dimity and Sarah’s conversations I heard strains of the life that I wanted back.
Rosalind Ann, decked out in her mom’s medals.
At the time, I thought I was running for postpartum weight loss and regaining fitness; what I see now is how badly I needed to believe in myself again.
As running slowly came back to me, I began to understand how little my profession was contributing to my self-worth. I was accepted for a postdoctoral fellowship in Boston, and I got to do all the things I love: teaching, advising, seeing students come into themselves in ways that reflected my own intellectual discoveries in college. With a firm two-year cap on that position, though, I was still on the job market 100% of the time.
Each new application drew my eye right to my deficiencies: publications lacking, too much language teaching, not enough prestigious fellowships. In truth, I had existed this way for years, with the positive, affirming environment of my classroom dissolving as soon as I got back to my office and started working on cover letters again.
The time I spent with my students loving my job was nowhere near equivalent to the time I spent feeling depleted and not good enough. I tried everything I could to reframe my thinking and believe in myself. Bottom line? Do better. Always: Do better.
Had I achieved success earlier in the form of a long-term job, I think I would still be facing this lack of equilibrium. This realization pushed me to declare that it was time to be done.
There is nothing that floods me with satisfaction and joy like a hard race where I leave nothing in the tank. Left, Nov 2016, my first half-marathon postpartum and my first race medal shared with this girl! Right, Nov 2017, feeling on top of the world just after crushing a 4-mile PR that I originally set in 2007.
I am still coming to terms with the end of that cycle. Some days, I feel light, free, open, excited for the first time in years about the uncertainty ahead. Other days, I feel failed, rejected, weak, and like a disappointment to so many people. I love Italian as much as I ever have, and I have always loved connecting with others over literature – why couldn’t I make it work? I could have stuck it out for one more year, revised my book again, written more articles, continued applying to every job out there, but I wasn’t brave/strong/tenacious/[whatever adjective I want to beat myself with] enough.
Running has been here all along, quietly saying “nope” to all of that. With every mile, it tells me I am more than enough. I’m ready to listen to it now.
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!
Running and (How to Make Yourself) Poop: An Interview with Meghan Kita
Babies, running and poop! Topics inextricably linked, as every BAMR knows.
Perhaps even more acutely for Meghan Kita, who recently gave birth to a baby boy, Theo, and delivered a book called How to Make Yourself Poop: And 999 Other Tips All Runners Should Know.
Meghan ran in high school and college and has completed 17 marathons, most notably one in which she ran in a hot dog costume, earning herself a spot in the Guiness World Record book for fastest marathon dressed as a fast food item (female). (Her record has since been broken, alas.)
It was fun catching up with Meghan, a former colleague from Runner’s World, about some of our favorite topics—the poop on babies and running! She’ll be on podcast #322 with Sarah talking even more TMI topics! Meet Meghan!
When was Theo born?
February 16, so he’s 5 months old.
How’s he doing?
He’s a really happy baby. He’s really sweet. He’s gaining weight, and can roll on to his belly and all the way across the room. He has teeth already—two top and two bottom teeth, which makes breast-feeding … interesting. I’m trying to teach him the words, “No biting.” “No biting.”
Mama Meghan with baby Theo, 5 months old
After you gave birth to Theo, how soon did you return to running?
I started running again 7 to 8 weeks post-partum. I had a 6-week checkup with my OB-gyn and got the okay to run. But I went to Lauren Garges, a pelvic physical therapist to be sure. She did an exam to check my abs for separation. I worked with her for a couple of months to get the abs closed. She gave me the go ahead to do a run-walk method for about a month before I started running.
And how is your running today?
I’m more or less back into it. I haven’t been able to find the perfect time to run. Breast-feeding creates problems with the morning run. I have an hour for lunch at my job, and I can get in a 5K at lunch a few times a week. And I try to go a little longer on the weekend.
Meghan (second from left) recently ran a fun 5-miler in Belmar, New Jersey, with her run squad: Heather (on left, also a new mom), Hannah, Ali, and Danielle
How do you handle the sports bra situation as a nursing mom?
When I tried to run before I fed him in the morning, I would take a little out with manual pump so I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. If I have fed him or pumped within an hour or two, it’s okay. I had to buy new sports bras. I have one that zips up the front, but it still isn’t enough. Sometimes I wear it over another one. This is all new for me. I never really had to think about sports bras before, I could run in cheap ones from Target.
Did you run during your pregnancy?
I ran until 32 weeks, sometime in December, when I switched to walking because I was so uncomfortable. I walked on a treadmill in our garage, until I saw a mouse in the garage, and I wouldn’t do that anymore. A few days would go by, and I would get restless and need to exercise, so I’d go outside and walk around the block. When you’re hugely pregnant, you don’t feel like yourself in so many ways, so you cling to the things you used to do to make you feel like yourself again.
Tell us about the TMI topics in your book.
It covers how to make yourself poop before a run, how to make yourself stop pooping. There’s nutrition stuff about pooping and not pooping. There’s how to pee discretely. How to avoid puking after a run. Stuff about your period. I pretty much got it all covered.
So it isn’t all poop?
My brain was full of tips and facts about training, nutrition, gear, motivation, and racing from my six years of Runner’s World. It’s like an encyclopedia with a splashy eye-catching title.
Do you drink coffee before you run?
Pre-baby, I went back and forth over the years. I did for a long time. Then I stopped because of a health issue. And I discovered that hot liquids worked just as well as coffee to get everything going.
Meghan had to prove she passed each mile marker of the Marine Corps Marathon to earn her spot in the Guinness Book of World Records.
How long did it take to “get everything going” pre-baby?
I was pretty efficient. I could get up and take care of business and be on my way in 15-20 minutes. [Ed. note: Wow, that’s fast!]
In writing this book, did you learn anything you DIDN’T already know from your years at RW?
One part of my book that I reported out with independent, brand new content was about running naked. I have tips for running “naked,” by which I mean, without a watch. And tips for running naked—that is, without clothes. I talked to a friend who had done a naked race. They are tips that I will never use, but it’s a fun section that made me laugh. One thing I learned: Bring a towel, because you won’t want to sit down on anything when you are naked; and you won’t want to sit any place where some other naked person has been sitting.
Who is more obsessed with poop: runners or moms?
Runners think about poop more. Like when they are not actively dealing with it. They think about how to make themselves go, and how to make themselves not go while running.
But moms have to actively deal with it more. Especially moms who are cloth diapering like me. It wasn’t so bad when Theo was just nursing. But now that he’s eating solids, it’s like real grownup poop. It’s gross.
What tip do you think runners (poop-related or otherwise) should know?
#321: Ragnar Relay Adventures!
