Second Wind

Doctor's Orders

2012-03-12T12:22:00.000-07:00

It's cloudy and cold, not the kind of day that beckons you to come play, but for the runner who is trapped daily in a gym, it's as good a day as any. I swing my leg over my bike for the four block trek to Doc. It's been four weeks since I began seeing the doc. I look forward to the bionic outcome, but for now I lament the need for treatment.

When I came to see him I was deep into the healing process of a year-long injury and I thought all was progressing forward, though not fast enough. He felt otherwise. First order of business ... stop running.
"What? Like, stop running for a few weeks?"
"Well, we'll see how long. I need to get you straightened out. You're kind of a mess."
"Gosh ... I hadn't noticed Doc. I thought that knee cap was supposed to be down over there, and that rib was supposed to be up over here." I felt like Igor as I blinked disappointment at this "no running" announcement. The open-ended status of "we'll see" had me quite nervous.

So I hunkered down for maybe a 3 week sabbatical but now three weeks has turned into four and I'm staring at week number five when I ride into the office for my first of two visits for the week. He notices my bike needs several adjustments. Among Doc's many talents is elite cycling coaching and bike fitting. Apparently my bike, similar to my body, has things in the wrong location, at the wrong angle. But that's another story all together. Back to my ever extending running sabbatical.

"So Doc, what exactly are we waiting for before I can maybe try to run again? Cuz I am about to lose it on the elliptical." My eyes were wild and I felt a snarl appearing across the bridge of my nose. Just keep it cool and be nice. Smile ... sweet eye blink.
"Well, how is your Achilles feeling?"
Blink, blink, smile ... "It is absolutely wonderful. When you were digging into this morning I hardly flinched."
"We can't take it too quickly or it will become irritated and slow progress. I know how you runners are. I give you a mile, you take ten."
Smile. Sweet eye blink ... twice. "Not me Doc. I will do just what you ask. If you give me a mile, I will take it."
"You do realize that if I give you a mile, that doesn't mean in the form of repeats. You can't run your mile, rest, then repeat."
Irritated smile. "Fine ... I'll take my single mile, just please give me just a smidgen of running."
"Ok. This is what I'd like you to do. Start out by going on a speed walk for an hour."
No more smile. Tears begin to form. Blink, blink the tears back. SPEED WALK.
"No. Listen Doc. I have NO pain and I have to run. You gotta give me something. I walk all day long in my job. I can take more. How about stadium steps." (This is the give and take strategy. He gives me speed walk, I give him stadium steps and we eventually meet somewhere in the middle).
"No. No stadium steps. That's the worst thing you can do. Alright, let's have you try a short, easy run on the city college track. I want you to warm up slowly, as in walk, and then stretch. Then do an easy three miles. Stop if there is any discomfort. Then an easy warm down and final stretch. Then go home and ice. This is to be done on Wednesday so that we can see how it goes at your Thursday appointment."
Elated smile. Sweet eye blink. "Alright. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I trust this doc. He knows what he's talking about and he cares. So Wednesday I will be at the city college taking in these precious few miles with appreciation. The miles will be followed by a tough master's swim workout and I predict that I will be happy. Will I be tempted to run hard ... yes. Tempted to detour up the stadium steps ... yes. Tempted to run farther than prescribed ... yes. But my desire to be healed is a greater desire than all these temptations. Isn't that the best way to defeat temptation: Be passionate about the greater goal. Make IT a greater temptation.

I added a new song to my playlist this weekend. Lyrics can be so appropriate.
Changes by Butterfly Boucher and David Bowie

First verse and chorus:
I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strain)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time

Getting It Done

2012-02-25T17:15:00.000-08:00

Every breath felt like my deflated lungs collapsed and refused to take in air; the sweat poured to cool my body but it refused to be consoled; when do I get to stop, when do I get to rest? With wide, desperate eyes I looked at the ticking seconds and imagined the final 100 meters stretched out in front of me. I can hear nothing over the noise of my own breathing. And finally it was over. Finally the turn over slowed and my head lowered as I heaved inward to get oxygen. The heart rate monitor read 170. How many more can I ask my body to perform. Twelve were on the schedule but each one was its own journey to hell. Midway through each one I began to fight with my mind. "I can't finish this one. I'm going to slow down. How many more do I have? Ah, I want to cry."

And so it went this morning for the first portion of the workout. The positive take away: Intervals ... finally!!! The negative take away: they were performed on an elliptical machine in a gray, dingy, smelly gym. Do they NOT believe in air?

After I finished with the elliptical, or as it were, after it finished with me, oh, and that little stretch of planks and crunches, I skipped along like a little girl in pigtails (only I had a ponytail) to my waiting bike. Hopped on, clipped in and rolled along to the second portion of the day's workout. Oh this is so fun, but my backpack weighs 50 pounds. I'm a girl, I don't pack light. What can I say.

After I slipped into my Dolfin Ugly suit (note that mine is not ugly, it is the most fabulous combination of blues and purples, kind of like a bruise), I walked the cold pool deck under thick marine layer. Do I really need to warm up for 600 meters after what I just did? Yes, apparently. Oh, my arms were not happy. They thought their work was done for the day, but you see they never listen. They are always shocked when I hit the water and ask them to pull me forward. They think their only job is to swing by my side. It's an ongoing issue. One day they'll figure it out.

So coach, really I have already done my workout today. Maybe this can be sort of a nice slow pace, kind of like a long warm down. Sometimes I think that coach has hidden little horns on his head and a red thin triangle tipped tail tucked away somewhere. You would think that the fact that I'm his wife would have some pull, but it doesn't. As my sorry arms dragged my body through the water at a pace I hoped NOT to have to do, I began listing things in my mind he would soon be deprived of.

Our set was impossible ... literally. How many 200's can I do at base minus 5 without substantial rest. Need I remind him that I already worked out. So here it is. The main set: a merciful 4 x 100 at base +10 followed immediately by 3 x 200 at base -5, a short rest (I emphasize short), then another 3 x 200 at base -5. Then we got another merciful set of 4 x 100 at base +10, but that went directly into a final 400 all out. Well let me just say that I was truly "all out" by then. Then it was off to the deep end for vertical kicking. I don't think I've ever heard so many F bombs dropped in such a short amount of time. One of my lane buddies couldn't control his verbalization. I almost drowned because it is impossible to laugh and keep your head above water at the same time while vertically kicking.

So came the end of my workout. This is what I did to replace what would have been my magical long run but the doc says no running. For two weeks now I have again laid off running because I am finally in the care of a great doctor who is fixing me. With a left leg one inch shifted longer than the right leg, I have been grinding my Achilles tendon against the edge of the sheath through which it should go straight and smooth. For a year I have dealt with an enflammed knee that has been at best questionable. My hips have been torqued and running puts pressure on everything and the natural compensation that occurs has been injury inducing devastation. Sooooo ... the doc said no more running until I get this straightened out. The good news is that my knees are level now, my hips are tracking properly, my knee is significantly better, I have absolutely no more pain in my Achilles even when I squeeze it to death. Doc says I have made rapid progress and I have responded well. I have been running for at least two years, if not more, inefficiently because of these issues and I've fought through to the extent that I could, achieving PR's late in my running career, but the doc assures me that when I return to running, I will finally be running efficiently. I anticipate feeling more freedom in my stride as if a wall has been removed, but we will see. Maybe he'll let me go back to running next week. Maybe not yet, but I will wait for his green light and then nothing's keeping me back after that!

The Mileage Club

2012-02-15T13:58:00.000-08:00

For the past year I have been coaching PE at the elementary school level. I get to work with Kindergarten through 6th grade, and attempt to remember the names of all 450 students I see each week. Rarely a day goes by that I don't ask myself, "What was I thinking??!!"

The drive to be involved in Physical Education comes from my lifelong passion for athletics, my lifelong involvement with running, and my own observations of childhood obesity and childhood weight/diet related disease. Some years back, when my sons were in elementary school, I worked in their classrooms and spent a lot of time hanging around their school. I noticed way back then how many children seemed to be overweight, and it wasn't long before it came glaringly into the public eye. Thankfully many schools have instituted a more structured PE program to help address the issue, as well as improved upon the types of food they serve during breakfast and lunch.

Priority one for my PE program is to get the kids moving around and to teach them skills that can keep them active all the time. I want them to know and experience how many different activities they have available to them and for them to discover what amazing feats their bodies can accomplish.

Let me just state at this point that getting kids moving and teaching them new skills is much easier said than done. Of course there is always going to be that 15% who love to run, love PE, love to learn, love to try, love to give their all ... but the remaining 85% of elementary school students pose a huge challenge to me in one way or another. Because they often don't take personal ownership of their own fitness and abilities, they decide to walk the lap instead of run, chat with a neighbor instead of focus, defeat themselves with crippling words like, "I can't," choose not to try, not to give their all, they complain incessantly and I am left scratching my head wondering how am I going to make PE matter to them.

To make matters worse, at our school, sometimes my PE class has to compete with breakfast, and when students are given the choice, breakfast usually wins. Because there is not time to fit PE into a school day, in some cases I conduct PE during recess time. For whatever reason, the school offers a "second chance breakfast" during recess and it is available to any student and is free at our school. Mind you, this is the second offering of breakfast for the day and comes only a short time before lunch. Kids who had eaten during the first offering of breakfast (before school) or had eaten before school at home can simply eat again and if they are in my PE class they have to be permitted to leave so they can consume these additional Calories. That means, not only are they not exercising, but they are in most cases eating when they don't need to be.

It is flawed and makes no sense from my perspective and after 6 frustrating months of less than productive recess PE, I made a change in my approach. I started the Mileage Club.

The Mileage Club is basically what it sounds like. It is an optional program, not required, whereby kids accumulate mileage in the form of walking or running laps during recess. The program I use includes gentle incentives in the form of Toe Tokens (a little plastic foot shaped charm). For every 5 miles accomplished, a student is awarded a chain necklace and their first token (they choose the color of their token). Additional tokens are awarded for every 5 miles thereafter. It's nothing fancy but those necklaces have proved to be highly coveted and intangibly valuable.

I thought this club would perhaps help students to take some ownership of their fitness (that's why the fact that it's optional is important) and their recess time and give them a goal on which to focus that might take their mind off of second breakfast. It seems I was right. Our Mileage Club is hugely successful as dozens have already earned their necklace and first toe token, and did so within 2 weeks and a few have already earned their second toe token, and around 80% of the students who have the option to participate, have logged laps.

When a student reaches a 5 mile goal, they are awarded their toe token during their afternoon PE class so that their classmates can celebrate with them and be challenged and motivated to follow their example.

Since beginning the Mileage Club in January, the enthusiasm has continued to increase. When the bell rings to signal recess, I smile when I see a herd of little feet running out to me. Something about the idea that "they don't have to but can if they want to" has the PE haters out on the field doing laps on their own time, and those who won't try or put forth effort during our class are now smiling and asking me to hold their water bottle while they run. Every time they come around for a lap, I punch their foot shaped card with a heart shaped hole puncher, remind them that they are making their heart stronger and that I am proud of them. Thirty laps equal 5 miles and they are so focused on those heart holes, how many they have, how many they need, that they decide to do three more laps instead of heading in to the cafeteria.

And you would not believe how many students are going to participate in our track and field program this Spring. It will be the first for our school and oh how it makes my heart swell when I hear the words, "Coach Cindy, can we run another lap?" What they don't realize but I know is that running can change their life.

Blame it on the Boogie

2012-01-22T09:17:00.000-08:00

Magical runs happen every so often. They are the runs that make all the un-magical ones worth it. Saturday brought in our first inclement weather of the year. It almost even felt like winter, but may have been mistaken for a summer squall. Never the less, the ground was dampened by the overnight, early morning rain, and the wind howled in swirling circles, blowing palm fronds and leaves into my path. The air was still moist and had a bit of a bite, but the sun began to peak through as the cloud broke. On the surface it didn't look like a day for a magical run, but one never knows how these things develop.

On Friday John and I woke up early, deathly early for me (5:00 am) so that we could attend the Strength for Running class. I had no idea how much pain could be inflicted upon the body without the use of external weights. All of our moves were done using body weight and gravity and by the end of the hour I thought I might have to crawl out because my gluts were left quivering on my pink mat. It was awesome. I have no doubt that my strength was built because by evening time I could pinpoint exactly which muscles were worked. I decided, since I was half asleep from a lack of morning sleep, and sore in places I didn't know existed, to not go to the pool for my planned swim. I slept instead. I hoped my Saturday run would make up for the laziness.

So Saturday brought less than ideal weather, but lots of energy from a day of recovery. Saturday also brought the birth of a new play list for my little iPod Shuffle. For years, as in four years, I have had the same songs on my Shuffle. They were great songs, but after hearing them two hundred and fifty times they had gotten a bit flat. They became noise in my head that helped only to take my mind off the pain. What they lacked was the ability to put a spring in my step and a jolt in my heart. They were decaffeinated and lukewarm. And lets face it, even at his best, Jack Johnson isn't exactly energizing. So despite the technical difficulty of figuring out how to strip and reload my Shuffle, I spent an hour and a half doing just that.

I am a new Iphone user. Traditionally very late with new technology, I recently bought a 3G Iphone (I'm always one model behind every one else) for one penny, and now have a smart phone that essentially makes life easier and more fun. I began building a small play list of inspiring songs. When I listen to the tunes I can't help but beat my foot to the rhythm and groove with the melody. Granted I have only compiled about 13 songs but it is the beginning of hours of running music.

I loaded my thirteen songs, almost an hour's worth of music, onto my Shuffle. Enough to get me through most of my 10 mile run. I can say with conviction that although I went into my run rested and ready, it was the music that made the magic. My first clue was in the first mile. Whereas I typically take my time warming up with a 7:30 to 7:45 mile, my watch beeped out a 6:59 first mile. Oops. That wasn't a very disciplined warm up. From there I headed straight into the wind for a two mile stretch, and although my face was flapping in contorted arrangements, like a high powered leaf blower was attacking me, I was rocking out and my magical run continued.

Onward went the run and the tunes, into the wind, with the wind, wind swirling all around me, pushing against me, pushing me forward, knocking me off my path, wet, slippery dirt threatened my footing, and finally that home stretch. It wasn't the fastest run, but it was fun. My final overall pace flashed across my watch in a 7:06, and I had to smile when I checked my final mile time. It was a 6:41. I had to run that last one hard because Bon Jovi told me to "live while I'm alive." So I did. Doubled over from the final effort, I walked the pain out of my legs and watched the palm trees give way to the strong gusts.

I wanted to share with you the songs on my new play list, and ask anyone who might be willing, to leave a comment with a few examples of your favorite running songs. I'm sure everyone has their favorites, and clearly my play list needs help to be built up just a bit.

Cindy's Running Play list:
In the category of sappy and inspiring:
The Climb by Miley Cyrus
One Moment in Time by Whitney Houston

In the category of slowish but meaningful:
Bad Day by Daniel Powter
Because of You by Kelly Clarkson
Superman by Five for Fighting

In the category of old school upbeat:
It's My Life by Bon Jovi
Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi
American Girl by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

In the category of edgy upbeat modern:
The Edge of Glory by Lady Gaga
Raise Your Glass by Pink
Viva La Vida by Coldplay

In the category of mellow inspiration:
Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson
Drops of Jupiter by Train

Please share your favorites.

The Battle of the Bulge

2012-01-08T14:04:00.000-08:00

Months ago, sometime over the summer I think, I noticed that my injured Achilles, which had become my re-injured Achilles, had a notable bulge to it when my foot was in a flexed position. This was ... un-nerving. I hadn't noticed this bulge during the previous 5 months of injury. Last year when my other Achilles was injured, it never featured a tell-tale bulge. What could this mean? Why the bulge? I promptly did the smart thing. I went online to self diagnose.

Mission 1 was to find out if this meant a partial rupture. Mission 2 was to find out if this was a symptom of some other problem. Perhaps there was a condition called "Bulging Achilles." Maybe I would discover that this was actually a sign of healing. Maybe bulging is good, although it looked like a deformity. There was not much information to be found, but the sum of what I did discover was: It was a symptom of Achilles Tendinitis (wow, a revelation), and, it indicated ankle instability. What? This was ... not helpful. So there was a bulge and I didn't know what it meant, if it would ever go away, or if it would get worse.

During today's church service, we were singing one of my favorite songs, "Blessed Be Your Name." The lyrics explain that God is to be praised during the good times and the bad. Whether we are walking through a desert or basking in a land of plenty, praise God. This song always causes me to be immediately introspective, so when I was singing, "Blessed be Your name, when I'm found in the desert place, though I walk through the wilderness, Blessed by Your name" I looked down at my injured foot. Yes, in running, it has been a desert and a wilderness. A battle of the bulge. It was dark in the auditorium but in the illumination which remained, I flexed my foot and looked at the bulge. I despised it so I rarely flexed and looked. But you know, the lyrics and movement of the song compelled me.

Here's what I saw. Almost NO bulge. I was looking at an almost fully healthy Achilles tendon. I flexed harder. Where's the bulge? All I saw was a slight bump that indicated one thing: the desert was healing me. The wilderness toughened me, and I was headed back to the land of plenty with the sun shining down on me. I even snapped a photo when we got home.

I don't mean to be over dramatic about it, and I don't want to belittle the power of that worship song. Life, as in running, is comprised of journeys into and out of deserts and streams of abundance. And when I go introspective, running is not the only thing I ponder, but today the bulge, and lack there of, captured my attention.

Thank you for reading.

Why Do I Run

2011-12-21T09:40:00.000-08:00

Why do I run? Well the obvious answer is to receive the innate and ultimate reward: a Venti 5 Shot Americano from Starbucks (half and half and lots of sugar). There is almost nothing better than to get through that run, as awesome and exhilarating as it is in and of itself, than to wipe off the sweat and head to Starbucks. I used to drink Americanos before a race, but I've changed that habit (for more than one reason) so that now I wait until after the race. Like a barn-sour horse heading back home to oats and honey, my final miles are focused on steaming hot caffeine with a roasty, toasty, deep flavor, with hints of caramel.

But again I ask, why do I run? When you're injured you ask that question. This is when the wolves, i.e. non-runners, or former runners, tell you that running is not good for you. Running breaks down your body, batters your spine and causes more rapid aging, they say. When you are feeling good, strong and whole, it is easy to refute such babble, but when you're injured, you have to revisit the same old question: why.

Is it worth the risk? Something devastating and long term can happen such as: getting hit by a car, rupturing a tendon, fracturing a bone, ripping a knee, sun-exposure ...

Why do I run? I began competitive running when I was 9. My elementary school had a cross-country team and because I was an odd child who ran for fun instead of playing with a barbie, my mom suggested that I join when I was in 4th grade. From there I competed in the Junior Olympic system for several years along with school competition, in both track and cross-country, until I hit middle and high school where I solely focused on school competition. And then later college. When you begin something that young and thrive on it, it is meant to be. It becomes a part of who you are, of your identity and your lifestyle. It is no different than eating, drinking, sleeping. It's what you do. It's what you do when you're a kid. It's what you do when you're a teenager. When you're a scholar. When you're pregnant, a mother, and it's what you do when you approach the top of the hill. It's what you do when you're 80.

Injuries: that which does not destroy me makes me stronger. When you get a toothache, you don't stop eating. Injuries make running more difficult, or even temporarily impossible, but the yearning and need are always present. Running is necessary for some of us, so when things happen, you will eventually find a way to get it done anyway.

This has been one of those years where running was more difficult and I constantly fought to find a way to get it done despite pain and mental anguish. I tried to be smart and rest through cross-training, and although it helped, the yearning drove me back to hitting the pavement too early in the healing process. But you know what ... I got so tired of the pit in my stomach that sank in when I could only watch others bounce along in their glorious, energizing, Americano earning pace. I had to get out there and earn MY Americano again. That's my year in a nutshell. And I am tired of thinking about, talking about and dealing with my lame Achilles tendon. It's sore, still injured, but getting better and will soon be nothing more than an important lesson from history. That's so 20 seconds ago.

I think I answered the question for myself a long time ago ... when I was 9. Why do I run? I don't run, I AM run. There is no question to be answered, never a reason to doubt, not a time when I need to wonder. I didn't choose it. I don't remember ever choosing to be a runner ... I was born a runner and I was fashioned by the hand of God, so I can take no credit or blame. I can only embrace it and give Him the glory and the anguish of it. And thank Him. Thank You.

Ventura Turkey Trot 5K Race Report

2011-11-25T14:05:00.000-08:00

When I pause to take mental inventory of my 2011 running and racing experience it would be oh so easy to become discouraged and dismayed. For the second year in a row I spent at least 8 out of the 12 months injured, in pain and trying desperately to recover and feel normal again. After a few good races early in the year, the remaining months have been difficult to say the least. With a stubborn Achilles injury that won't quite heal, I spent most of the year hoping to recover in time for the next big race.

However ... as it turns out ... I am not discouraged or dismayed at all. What has happened through pain, struggle and injury, just like in life itself, is a toughening and an increased pain tolerance that will most likely make me a better runner when I finally get healthy again. I used to feel frustrated with my painful runs but lately I have felt some different emotions: gutsiness, determination, perseverance. These qualities come only through adversity. In running and in life.

Because I thought my body could handle it and because I wanted one last race of the season, I ran the Ventura Turkey Trot yesterday, a 5K. For most (excluding me) it would be considered a fast course as it is fairly flat with wide turns in a figure "8" formation (a fast course for me would have some rolling hills). It can be subject to wind but on our race day wind was not much of a factor. The temperature was also ideal and the humidity was great. All the ingredients were there for a personal record.

Turkey Trots are a lot of fun because families come out to participate and everyone is joyful just to be there. It's great to see such a colorful crowd. Our crowd even included Deena Kastor (pushing a baby stroller) and her husband Andrew. Because there were a couple of hundred more runners than they expected our start was delayed by about 15 minutes. Not a bad thing but it usually frustrates me if we get a late start because my warm up is designed to get me to the line sweaty and breathing hard and I don't like to lose that by having to stand around unexpectedly. But "oh well," what are you going to do.

As I jogged the 2 mile warm up with John and Ricky, I wondered if my lack of speed training would cause extra suffering and prevent me from obtaining my goal of a sub-18 minute finish. While I've been able to ease back into some nice runs, even somewhat tempo, I haven't been able to do speed work in months. To compensate, I have had some hard speed work swims, but nothing really can replace the benefits of a good track session. Yah, so here I was about to do a 5K without speed work. Oh well. We warmed up nicely, stretched while waiting for a porta-potty, and got some strides in.

While pushing the strides, low-and-behold, my lower calf/Achilles tendon became tender and painful on my push-off (the Achilles had generally been less painful here of late so this was discouraging). I felt I could still run and hoped the adrenaline would diminish my notice of it during the race.

Finally our race started and I repeated in my mind as we went out fast, to NOT go too fast in my first mile. What I found with this course is that by contour of the roads, the first mile was faster and the second mile was more of a false flat and was much more difficult. I felt that coming through my first mile in 5:45 (that was my first mile time) might have been a tad too fast. At that point I felt like I could maintain the pace ... until I turned the corner into the second mile. Without even feeling the enormous slow down, I came through the second mile in 6:00 and it felt way too hard. It was somewhere in the midst of that second mile that I began limping to the pain in my leg. The pain I had hoped I wouldn't notice. It was intense and interrupted my normal stride. I spent a lot of mental energy trying to find a way to run that hurt less.

I was hanging with Michelle, who was the front running female, until the beginning of the third mile. It was at this point that I began to wonder if I could or should finish. I was in pain and my awkward stride stole precious energy. I had no way of picking up the pace even though I knew I had to. I saw Michelle and my sub-18 minute finish slip away and I went into a mode of "just get this thing done with." With a painfully slow 6:12 final mile (ugh!) I was fortunate to have not been passed by a lurking female (she finished 9 seconds behind me) and finished the second female overall, first Master, and first in my age group. But ... I walked away from the finish line in a full on limp. A masseuse requested I follow her to her table for some work but I declined. I didn't want anyone touching that tender leg and elected to jog a mile warm down which helped considerably.

It's hard to know how to feel with all that. My final time was 18:27 - not a good time for me as of late but under the circumstances of injury and lack of training, not all that bad. I don't know if I'd say the race was fun, nor will I suggest that it was smart to run injured, but I did it and was glad that it was over. The racing season is over and now I will focus on healing so that next year I can have 12 months of joyful, pain free running, training and racing.

There were some great positives that came out of this race for a few other dear runners: Michelle McToldridge came away the female winner in 18:02. Ricky Ho set a PR of 16:09 and finished 5th overall, and John had a breakthrough race and finished in 18:59. That was 1:07 faster than his last 5K and earned him 2nd in his age-group. Basically, Santa Barbara runners represented well in Ventura. We came away with 1st and 2nd overall female, 5th overall male, 3 first place age group wins and one second place age group win.

Time to rest. Time to heal. Time to aqua-run again. Although I lost 8 months (and counting) of the year to injury, I was still able to run 10 races: Romeo 4 miler, Romeo Couples 2 x 2 relay, Super Bowl 4 miler, Roses en la Playa 5K, Night Moves Swim/Run, Night Moves 5K, Westmonster 5K cross-country race, Santa Barbara Sprint Triathlon, Goleta Education Foundation 4 miler, Ventura Turkey Trot. I missed the Carlsbad 5000, World Masters Track and Field Championships, and Santa Barbara Half Marathon. I'll get those done next year.

The Uncrustable Principle

2011-10-07T14:21:00.000-07:00

I wasn't expecting it when it hit me. But that's how these things work. There I was mindlessly eating a microwave thawed peanut butter and jelly Uncrustable (well not really mindlessly ... I was starving and therefore eating it with fervor) late in the afternoon. I took a bite on the top and out of the bottom squirted all my peanut butter and jelly. It came out like a Super Soaker and splatted all over my leg, chair, and alas, the floor. No way to salvage that. In hungry frustration, I sat there with my empty, deflated Uncrustable white bread thinking, "Holy cow. God didn't want me eating that one. May have been laced with some sort of unhealthy additive or bacteria ... or parasite." So, of course I heated up another one, sat down to eat it and, yes, predictably, it happened again. That's it. I've sworn off Uncrustables. Hmmm, but what's the real revelation here? The Uncrustable is a metaphor ... a meta for running.

Running is the perfect little package of round, bleached, spongy bread filled with runny protein and sugar, with the crust already removed. It's self-contained, healthy (ok, maybe that part of the metaphor breaks down on the part of the Uncrustable), convenient, satisfying, and whole. If you bite carefully, everything stays where it's supposed to, and when you're done eating, there are no crumbs and no runny globs. But what happens when you heat the Uncrustable and abuse it with a careless bite, and let's say the Uncrustable isn't as young as it used to be? When you bite, all the peanut butter and jelly squirts out. Yes, that's me. That's my running life.

I was so happy to have a strong race a few weeks ago. As I've been training myself back from injury, it was a good indication that something seems to be going right, or is at least getting better. The down side though, it that my body hurts. It hurts when I train and it hurts when I race. I'm still not back from the last Achilles injury (that happened in late February so we are going on 8 months now) and my knee is at varying degrees of inflammation. Sure I can run now and am not confined to the prison of "not-optional" cross-training, but I always wonder if my peanut butter and jelly is going to stay put. Every run hurts.

I'm getting smarter though. If my Uncrustable is getting too warm, I take it out of the microwave and let it cool off before I eat it. Love that swimming pool. Or the lake. John and I were blessed to get away for a few days up to Lake Tahoe last week. The lake temperature was slightly warmer than the ocean but I had my wetsuit just in case. We swam thousands of meters in crystal clear amazing water and oh! my peanut butter and jelly were loving it.

Another smart thing is that I will soon be getting my Uncrustable worked on. I am going to have my leg length discrepancy address and I am confident that this will strengthen my bread. I want to run as fast as I can for as long as I can, but I also want to be able to run ... period.

I have so far had a painful but really great week of workouts. Upon returning from high altitude, I did another attempt at the track and was able to achieve 4 x 800 before my peanut butter said "enough." But later that day I did the brutal Master's swim workout and beat the p-butter back into submission. Tuesday was a 10 miler under 7:00 pace, on a sore knee, and Achilles still screaming. Wednesday ushered in a session of 400 repeats on the treadmill, again ending when my peanut butter started oozing. But that was followed up with a great weight lifting session. Thursday was a nice 8 mile run in the wind (lovely gusts that knocked me backwards), again keeping things under 7:00 pace. Today will include a 4 mile tempo run if my peanut butter can handle it, and then another brutal Master's swim workout. Finally Saturday will be my long run of 15 miles. Gosh darn it. Each day hurts but not the kind of hurt that pops your bread.

So goes the metaphor of the Uncrustable. Here's to keeping those seams tight.

GEF 4 Miler Race Report

2011-09-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

Santa Barbara was socked in with fog but the sun was shining bright next door in Goleta. The Goleta Education Foundation 4 miler is a fund raiser event to benefit music and PE programs at Goleta elementary schools. As a PE coach at Cleveland Elementary in Santa Barbara, I know first hand how desperate these programs are for funds. It is great to participate in this well organized event.

As typically happens to me going into a race, I spent some time considering the fact that my body hurts, my legs were tired (I ran a hard 13 miles yesterday), and I was secretly putting pressure on myself to suck it up and get out there and do my best. But my body really was hurting today. My recovering Achilles tendon seemed happy enough but my knee was having some drama. As I warmed up I wondered truly if it would hold out. Here's some advice. For a short race like 4 miles, warm up for at least 2 miles, and make certain you spend some energy doing fast striders just prior to the start. A good warm up does wonders for pre-race aches, and the striders (make sure you get winded) get you ready for a nice comfortable first mile.

As we started the race, boo!! my knee screamed at me immediately and I thought to myself that I would give it 400 meters to calm down. Thankfully it did and I was able to get into that first mile groove. It was very important for me to not go out too fast so I did my best to hold back. Therefore the first mile, which was a 5:55 felt nice and controlled. Most of the first mile is at a slight incline so that was a good opening mile for me.

Miles 2 and 3 meandered through the neighborhood and around Lake Los Carneros, and had some subtle up's and down's. My goal through these middle miles was to hold that first mile pace as long as I wasn't laboring too much. A gap developed between me and the group ahead, as well as the group behind, so I felt at times like I was out there by myself. I focused on my pace and took constant inventory of my body. The Achilles was fine, the knee was not. But at this point what are you going to do? Miles 2 and 3 were 5:57 and 5:58 respectively. Not too far off pace but I knew the final mile would have to be faster if I was going to surpass last year's time.

As I passed the 3 mile mark I went into "gut" mode. No longer was I looking to stay controlled and not too labored. I was looking to dig a little deeper, reach the red line and hold it to the finish line. Most of the final mile is at a slight decline and although the knee was screaming at me again, it was the perfect opportunity to stride out, pick up the pace and try to take in enough oxygen so as not to pass out. It is rare that I feel good at this point in a race but I really did feel good cardiovascularly today (considering I haven't yet been able to get out on the track for speed work). The final mile was 5:43 (or something close to that) for a final time of 23:32. This is an 18 second improvement over my time on this course last year. That, above all things, gave me great joy and reminded me of why I love to race.

The sky was a crisp blue, the air temperature moderate though a bit dry, no wind to speak of, and a plethora of jubilant volunteers all along the course. It was a great race day for many of the competitors and it was so nice to celebrate the achievement with a great community of runners.

I'm still on the recovery trail while at the same time, trying not to hurt some other body part in the process, but this was a good test of fitness. Although I'm limping around with an ice bag tied to my knee (later to be used on my Achilles), I have no regrets today, save my disappointment that John wasn't able to run because his back went into an untimely spasm yesterday. But he'll be back and good to go in a week :)

Thanks to the Goleta Education Foundation for putting on such a great event year after year and thanks to all the volunteers who come out to help.

Nite Moves 5K Race Report

2011-08-25T16:32:00.000-07:00

Greater than any report I have to give, the most excellent thing about this post is that I have a race report to give at all. After almost 6 months of injury recovery, I have finally been able to slide into a few races over the past couple of weeks. Although I am still not fully recovered, I am really at a stage of strengthening. With an Achilles injury, because I treated it properly by taking off completely from running, I now have to re-strengthen my right lower leg and calf muscle. It has been so long since I've been able to push off with my right toes and land mid-sole, that my leg has weakened and atrophied to some extent. So here I am finding ways to push past this part of recovery.

Prior to the onset of my injury back in February, my last race was a 5K called Roses En La Playa. On that cold winter morning, along with a couple a hundred other brave souls, I fought the wind, endured the course and completed it in 18:16 (my watch time). Shortly after that day, I had to say goodbye to racing and running for a while.

Last night I competed in the Nite Moves 5K race which is on the same course as Roses En La Playa. It was the perfect set up to see where I'm at compared to where I was in February. I couldn't help but to hope, as I do with every race I enter, that I would somehow exceed my expectations. I almost always hope for a PR unless the course is too challenging. So although I wasn't ready to run another PR, nor ready to race for that matter, I still hoped.

So here's how it played out: The race is an evening event and Wednesday evening was near perfect. It was a tad hot for me (mid-70's) but not bad for a 5K. Wind can be a factor on this course but the air was fairly calm. Over 200 runners toed the narrow starting line. The starting line, and really the whole course, is too narrow for such a crowd, but so it was. I always station myself two people or more back from the line using the logic that I figure at least 15 of these runners are faster than me so they should start ahead of me. Of course the trouble is that 80% of the people who line up at the front are way too slow to be up there. It is a frustration that I have to deal with. The start was too crowded and faster people converged on the slow "front of the line" hogs and it made for tripping, elbowing, pushing, and panic. It's hard enough for me to maintain the right speed at the beginning of a race, but with this situation I was at the mercy of everyone around me.

It took most of the first mile, a couple of times running in the grass to get around people, to get into a rhythm and to begin to think about the race itself. It was about this moment when I saw Kent just in front of me. It occurred to me that Kent just ran a 36 minute 10K a few days before and he always runs the race I wish I had. So I thought, "Cool. I'll just hang with Kent." So I slowed a bit and kind of hung just behind him but darn it, there was a female just ahead and I began to argue with myself to hold back. I slipped past Kent, rationalizing that he's probably just taking it easy today and isn't going all out. But as I pushed past, Kent wisely tells me to slow down (it is after all 1 1/2 miles uphill). I said, "Ok." But that girl right there ... right there ... does not need to be there, she needs to be behind me.

I did not do a good job of slowing down when Kent told me too, and before long it took its toll. Once we crested the hill and made the turn-around to go back down, Kent increased his speed and pulled away. I spent too much already and couldn't go with him (this happened at Roses En La Playa too). I did however get through the first two miles in under 6 minute pace which gave me at least a chance to break 18. And I did get past that female runner. The last mile and 1/2 are downhill and I was hoping that I'd feel relaxed, smooth and in control, but the truth is my broken fitness due to the layoff was lurking at my door.

There was one last motivation. I had to beat Cuyler. Cuyler is this amazing 14 year old swimmer on the Santa Barbara Swim Club and he's been blazing this course all summer (this race occurs weekly over the summer). John, my husband (who is Cuyler's swim coach) had talked smack to Cuyler on my behalf and set up this vicious rivalry. I had to beat Cuyler. And oops!! there he was just ahead of me and I was going faster than he was. I past him with about 1/2 mile to go and eeked out a whispered, "Go Cuyler." I really meant, "Stop running Cuyler. It's futile. You'll never beat the old lady Crawford." Would Cuyler even know what "futile" meant? Anyway, I said, "Go Cuyler." Yah. You could imagine what he did. Teenager boy. He went. He passed me back up, but I stayed stealthily close in case he showed weakness.

I finally came to the final hill down to the finish line and ahead of me I spotted a female (not Drea, she had already finished), and there wasn't suppose to be any other female ahead of me except Drea. I thought maybe she was just running along with another as a spectator. She was just a child (12 or 13'ish) and I had no idea where she came from. It's out and back. How could I have not seen her. People were cheering for her so she must have been in the race. Bummer, now I'm going to have to go for it. The last thing I felt like doing was running harder but I did. I had it in me and I sped past her in the final yards ... and almost scooped up Cuyler as well ... but alas, he did beat old lady Crawford (by a modest 3 seconds). I was satisfied with my 2nd overall female finish, and then I had to laugh when I found out that there was a kid's mile that had taken place which explains where the "young female" came from. But hey, whatever it takes to scoot me along a few seconds faster, I'll take it.

My finishing time: The all important finishing time which would reveal where I am now compared to where I was prior to my injury: 18:17 (by my watch). I have spent no time on the track and have only recently begun tempo runs again and still have pain, so I was pretty happy with that 1 second off my pre-injury time. Of course Kent finished in 17:41 which is where I WANT to be but I'll have to be patient. If I had run a little smarter, would I have run a better time, maybe beat Cuyler? Possibly. Every race is a lesson. Cuyler better watch his back.

"First Race Back" Under my Belt

2011-08-19T16:05:00.000-07:00

Wow, has it really been a month and a half since the last blog? I started a new job recently as a PE coach for a local elementary school and it is mostly full-time, so I've had to do some adjusting. It is such a blessing to be able to help kids work on physical fitness ... if only they realized how important it is to start young and stay on track. It is challenging and exhausting ... just like running.

I have competed in two recent races and it is amazing to be able to run hard again. I did Nite Moves last week (both the 1K swim and 5K run), and this week I did the Westmonster 5K. Although I haven't fully recovered from my Achilles injury, I didn't feel pain during the races. I did feel it afterwards though. My biggest challenges regarding getting back into racing is that my injured leg still lacks strength so at times I experience severe cramping in that calf muscle, and I haven't been able to do any speed work yet because it is still just a bit too much. I have entered these races feeling unprepared but look at them more as steps toward getting back to where I should be. The great part is being surrounded by a huge and dedicated community of runners and athletes who are so encouraging.

By way of race reports, last Wednesday was the first time I ever participated in Nite Moves. For those who aren't familiar with Santa Barbara's Nite Moves, they are a series of races that go throughout the summer every Wednesday evening. There is the option of doing a 1K open water swim, a 5K run, or a combination of both (aquathon). I did the aquathon. So fun. I am a much slower swimmer than runner so I inevitably came out of the water with the urgency of having to catch up. Getting the dreaded wetsuit off was the biggest challenge of the night but once I got on the run my rhythm smoothed out and I had a great time out on the course (out and back course, up hill on the way out, downhill on the way back). It ends up being a 3.5 mile race so is just a bit more than 5K. I think I had a smile on my face because I was running ... in my Newtons ... fast ... with no pain. It was good to get that "first race back" under my belt. Never mind the fact that my calves were sore for three days from the shock of what I asked of them.

The Westmonster 5K was an evening race as well and was a beautiful cross-country course all through the Westmont College campus in Montecito. The campus is breath-taking ... and hilly ... so therefore the race was breath-taking too. There was a great turnout of around 200 athletes including college and high school students. The course was tough with some significant hills and a variety of surfaces (asphalt, dirt, gravel, grass, all-weather track). I think it would be fair to say that the track was the only level ground on the course. Because of a lengthy warm-up, I again can boast that my leg felt perfectly fine during the run. Afterwards is another story but that's all a part of recovery. I think I had to ice three different body parts that night but felt good by the next day (an ice bath would have been more efficient). There was great participation from the local running group and from what I saw everyone had a great race.

There are a lot of local events coming up in the next two weeks and I'm hoping to compete in most of them. This weekend is the McConnell's 10K. This coming Wednesday is another Nite Moves and I will do the 5K run only this time, and the following weekend are the Santa Barbara Triathlons (long course and sprint course). I am going to be doing the all-women's sprint course.

It's hard to come back from an injury. Not only do you have to heal but you also have to go through the struggle of getting back to race-ready shape. It's always an uphill climb, but as runners know, going up hill makes you stronger. It's worth it to keep climbing.

As far as training, I have still been careful to cross-train between running days. I have been swimming twice a week and weight training once a week. I have begun doing intervals and hard running on the treadmill and will soon be back out on the oval. I include a long run and a tempo run each week and if needed, a lighter paced mid-distance run (all outside in the open air). With each opportunity to train I am so very thankful that I am able to.

Hi. My Name is Cindy. I'm a Runnaholic

2011-07-06T13:02:00.000-07:00

So a man walks into Starbucks and asks, "So ... how's your leg?" "Hmmm," I replied, "It's improving but still not quite there." I went on to explain that I have been able to run more with less pain but the pain is still there. Keeping in mind that this gentleman, a regular at the Starbucks I worked at, had already informed me multiple times that "You can't run through that injury," he then looked at me starkly and said ... "You are addicted to running."

A keen observation but yet a statement that can only come from the lips of a non-runner. Should I be offended? Was his comment derogatory? Was he jealous or did he think me a fool? I found the comment out of place. After all, clearly I have not been "running" through this injury (I took 6 full weeks off and have only run intermittently since), but at this point in the recovery I find that running helps in the healing. My explanation to this phenomenon is that use of the tendon helps with blood flow which otherwise is almost impossible to come by.

So I said (to myself), "Thanks for the enlightenment. Because of you I am inspired to reform my wicked ways. From now on I will refrain from my obsession of running, become part of the middle aged junk food packing, sedentary status quo ... like you. Today, instead of a healing run, I will attend a 12 step meeting and begin my life anew." In reality I simply smiled and refrained from speaking my mind.

With certain injuries, the greatest value gained is patience. In the meantime I am enjoying every one of the opportunities I have to cross-train and am thankful that I can at least do this.

My obsession, addiction and love of running was renewed as I attended the Semana Nautica 15K as a spectator. My husband John, as well as the Moms in Motion team, which I have been working with, competed alongside many other special runners from our community and communities from afar. It was a brilliant day and everyone participating in the race seemed so happy in their addictions. It was a wonderful event from all vantage points and I yearned to partake of the painful pace. It allowed me to feel close to what I love to do.

The term "addiction" has such a negative connotation. It implies an unhealthy attachment to something. It's funny how that term is rarely applied to things such as ... sugar, or caffeine, or bananas, or American Idol. The truth is I have an attachment to running, but it is not unhealthy. Do I need it? Yes, but I also need sleep, water, air, food. Running is healthy in 100 different ways and not all of them are physical benefits. I also benefit spiritually, emotionally and mentally. Running has given me a way to avoid the vices that otherwise would have filled that void, and my chances of escaping the fates of my mother and father who both died in their forties of lung and heart disease respectively, is multiplied exponentially. And I enjoy it. I truly enjoy all that running is.

So as I continue to heal, I am able to run up to four times per week now, and although I still land heavily on my right heel and do not yet have the mid-foot strike and airy lift that I am used to, I can still labor through it. The pain is still there but it is less and it resolves more quickly afterwards. I continue to mix it up with other activities, including stadium steps at the city college, but soon I will be back on the track and back on track. Take that and stuff it in your coffee cup "Mr. Addicted to Starbucks."

Hi, my name is Cindy. I am a runnaholic.

Yoga Bear and no more Boo Boo

2011-06-14T14:51:00.000-07:00

No piiiicinik baskets here! We have embarked on the world of yoga and pilates. Note in photo number one (well, the only photo), Rip demonstrates a perfect example of the downward, reclining cat, while John struggles in his upward dog pose. The Yin and the Yang if you will.

My yoga instructor had to, ahem, encourage me in my sideways tilt, and my lame knee won't allow me to do the basic "legs crossed" pose, so I modified. Wow, is your leg supposed to bend like that? Why do I want to do the "pigeon?" I had to explain: "I'm a runner." "Oh," he says, "say no more. Just keep coming to yoga, and you might want to try to roll out your fascia with a foam roller before class." I'll keep that in mind. I really will.

Let's not just add yoga, let's add pilates as well. I've heard that's good for your core and butt. Whew! Need that for sure. Not that it was totally too easy, or slow to progress, but after the first 15 minutes of "warm up" moves, I was feeling a little sleepy. That is until I woke up this morning with sore everything. Really? Really? It wasn't too bad when we swung our leg forward and backward a few times (boring!) but then, without rest or recovery, she made us hold it out behind and pulse (ouch!) and then without rest or recovery, out to the side, front circles, back circles, pulses (are you kidding me?), and then without rest or recovery, she MADE us contort our leg the other way ... more pulses. That did wonders for my hip. Then all over again on the other side. Pilates are totally cool.

Without a doubt, the stretching and the natural form movements have already helped me. My hip/low back irritation, inflammation stuff is so much better. My knee shows very little swelling and is no longer an issue. As I watched the yoga instructor kneel down to turn on the stereo, I noted that he bent his knees, both knees totally and comfortably. I can't remember the last time I could do that. Flexibility is a big part of overall wellness and fitness and I am looking forward to getting my downward pigeon stork working for me.

Cross-training continues but I was able to run a fairly brisk 11 miles last week on a slightly sore knee and still screaming achilles tendon ... but with each run it feels just a bit better and since I don't run that often, I am giving it time to heal. Tonight I will run in the pool and do a set of 6 sprint 50's swim and some ab work and I will consider it a great workout.

I can't wait until I am able to get on the track for intervals or compete in a race, but until then I am trying to enjoy all the facets of fitness.

Just Another Rainbow, Just Another Pot of Gold

2011-06-06T15:58:00.000-07:00

It can be challenging to write a blog about running when you haven't been able to do much running. That's no excuse though, because there is always so much in the peripheral that can be written about.

Like for instance I could write about the few runs I have been privileged to do amidst injury recovery. Each one (I can only mange one to two runs per week) is a blessing for which I am truly thankful. One recent run was with a group of running buddies from San Diego on Memorial Day. I miss running the challenging hills of San Elijo so when I have the opportunity, I try to take it. There are always a few willing to join me (or actually a few that let me join them) and it is a blessed reunion and a time to catch up on everyone's recent races and events of life. Thanks for letting me join you guys and I look forward to the next one.

I have also managed to do a Saturday run for the last 3-4 weeks which has climbed in mileage up to 10 and holding. I figure, as part of my recovery mindset, that I will not attempt to go farther than this, but will do my best to enjoy the friendly 10 miles. I crave more miles and I crave faster miles, but I am learning to be satisfied with reality. In time everything will come back together for me and I will be a smarter runner.

While I have been encouraged by a healing achilles that is a bit less painful than it was, I have found myself dealing with another issue. Perhaps it is an issue of a compensating injury but I can't know for sure. About two weeks ago, on a Wednesday, I was at the dark, concrete prison of a gym sweating it out on the "cardio" machines. I spent 6 miles (according to the computer read out) on the Stairmaster, and then another 3+ miles doing 1/4 miles intervals on the Elli. I adopted these modes of cross-training about a month ago to give me reprieve from the pool (swimming and aqua-running). Cross-training is supposed to be helpful, less impacting, and supportive of healing. But on this Wednesday something didn't feel right afterwards. I went to the track that evening to coach the Moms in Motion track workout and did a few easy laps during their warm up. I felt awkward in my gait, heavy on one side, and generally much more out of sorts. And it wasn't just a stiff achilles.

I later realized my right knee (which is the same leg as my achilles injury) was generally significantly swollen. I did not injure my knee so I knew it was manifesting a different problem. Since I am apt to self-diagnose, I soon learned (because it started sceaming at me) that my low back/right hip was tight, locked up, out of whack, tweaked ... these are official medical terms. In my assessment, I had a flare up of some sort in this area which tightened muscles (maybe the piriformis) which in turn pulled my knee out of proper alignment enough to cause inflammation there as well. I have a notable leg length discrepancy (functional leg length discrepancy) so I figure ultimately this is the culprit.

So the tight swollen knee on this day made my gait feel off but did not cause me pain. However, the issue worsened until I not only had tightness and swelling, but also weakness, a sharp pain that ran the length of my posterior knee on occasion which was no doubt a pinched nerve somewhere in the mix, and it began to feel as though it was slightly out of joint/alignment and would, if I was lucky, pop back into place. Then, as if that wasn't enough, it became painful to run. At first it only "bothered me" during running, but this last 10 miler ended in complete pain and an inability even to bear weight. I dragged my leg back the last mile just so I wasn't stranded away from my car. My kinesiology tape totally came off during the first 6 miles and left my supported knee unsupported and loosey-goosey. Let me vent - the stupid tape does absolutely no good if it's flapping in the wind. It gets you half way through your run and leaves it up to you to figure out how to get through the second half. It's a JOKE! :) That's about as "venty" as I get.

All of this knee junk sort of peaked out this past Saturday and has since begun to subside as the inflammation in my hip has been resolving. It was a chain reaction in the function of my right side and I sought to deal with the foundation of the problem as best I could.

At this moment I'd be happy to have to deal only with an achilles injury, but to have another problem on top of that has been unspeakably frustrating ... especially considering that I haven't even been running much. This happened while cross-training.

I think there is only so much a runner can take. I am going to begin yoga this week and I'm encouraged that this will help me in a plethora of ways. My muscles are likely imbalanced and tight from poor biomechanics due to an altered gait, and this has increased the discrepancy in my leg lengths, which has caused inflammation in my hip and back, which has resulted in tightened muscles and tendons ultimately affecting my knee. I need my knee darn it.

Ice, Aleve, Traumeel, elevation and tape have been my close companions, and I've taken to almost constant stretching, twisting and torquing. I see improvement. Yes I realize that some sort of medical attention, Chiropractic adjustment regimen or physical therapy would be smart, but for the most part, those are not options for me right now.

Wow. I was kind of hoping to focus on the positive, so I hope there is something positive in all of this. At the moment I am thankful to feel the knee/hip stuff resolve, and I'm glad I am finally motivated to begin yoga (something I've wanted to do for years but just haven't). Another great thing is that John will do yoga with me so it will be something wonderful to share together.

See, this whole thing is a big, beautiful rainbow with many pots of gold awaiting me.

And soon I will be running pain free again. Yes.

Deleted but Not Out

2011-05-20T11:18:00.000-07:00

I had to make the final decision to withdraw from the Masters Track and Field World Championship competition, a decision I was still dimly hoping I wouldn't have to make. Now when I perouse the registration status of my events, I no longer see my name. I officially withdrew and have been deleted. With just a bit over a month to go before the meet, I still am not able to manage any type of quality run, and a lesser run leaves me limping for several days thereafter. The timing of injuries will always and forever baffle me.

I won't deny that I am fully disappointed, but in the back of my mind I ponder that I may have other opportunities along these lines in the future. Afterall, I am now a proud owner of a U.S. Olympic competition uniform and a member of USATF, and I have a sweet renewed interest in track and field competition which happens to be quite popular in Santa Barbara.

I am now focusing on training smart, though most of it comes in the form of cross-training. I was attempting to run approximately every other day (only able to do about 3 runs per week), but even that plan has proved to be too much. I had a nice, though painful 8 mile run last Saturday, and followed it up with a harder 6+ mile run on Monday, but have been in pain ever since. So I refrained from the ground and hit the elliptical and water all the more but with some amount of frustration and anger. If I am able to manage it, I will go for 10 miles on solid ground tomorrow. That's just to maintain my sanity I think.

When random people see me limp (and trust me, I try not to limp) and ask why, my explanation it seems is always met with "advice." Some will say, "Oh, you should try icing it." Yah! Duh! Others will say, "Ohhhhh. Gee I'm sorry. Do you think it's ruptured? Be careful." Whatever!! The one that hit me this week was, "Oh, those are bad. You know you can't train through that. You have to let it heal." I let them know of my 6 week lay-off which left me no more healed than the day it happened. I have had a San Diego running partner, ultra-marathoner genius, recommend and offer a trip to his therapist whom he swears by. At my first opportunity I hope to try and see, and pray for a miracle. Thank you for that Mike!

Anyway ... more than ever, I hate seeing people run when I can't. And I despise the pain that plagues me when I try. Feeling a bit like Achilles. Is it not the most ironic and bizarre revelation that the Achilles tendon was named after the mythological hero Achilles who's only weakness was his "heel."

I'm thankful for a strong training partner and coach in John. He is the epitome of positive and keeps the swim workouts nice and hard, and inspires me with his growth as a runner. I haven't even had the opportunity to lament the inadequacy of swimming in comparison to running. The swims have just been so good and I've been able to stay fit. I've recently added the elliptical into my routine and have found that an interval session on that bad boy can get my heart rate up to 170 bpm. Drippy, drippy, sweaty, sweaty. In time I will spend more time on the solid ground, but until then, plastic/metal, and H2O will suffice. It could always be worse, right?

I've been deleted from the competition, but I'm far from out.

Getting Perspective

2011-05-10T12:58:00.000-07:00

I watched a great movie over the weekend, Soul Surfer. It's the true story of the young surfer, Bethany Hamilton who lost her arm in a shark attack. The story highlights how she overcame this trauma, and for me it was truly inspiring (highly recommend the movie). In the story, prior to her attack, she is at youth group and her youth leader was talking with them about perspective. She showed a close up of an unknown item and asked for students to identify it. When they couldn't figure it out, she showed an unzoomed version and it became clear what it was. The lesson was: to get the proper perspective, sometimes you have to step back and look at the whole picture rather than focus on the circumstances at hand.

Ok, so I cried through the whole movie because so much of it related to my life. Only my life has different struggles and they seem so much more managable than having to live/surf with a missing arm. But still, sometimes I feel like a runner with a missing leg.

After a 6 week "cross-training only" layoff from running, I tried to slowly reintroduce my legs to running. As previously posted, I did a slow but mostly painfree 6.5 mile run a week ago. My next step was to attempt a light track workout a couple of days later. This went "ok" but did produce some pain. Because of the events I am training for, I went back to the track two days later for another workout. This one produced full and intense pain and I left the track limping and questioning why. "Why" a lot of things: Why is it not healed? Why did this happen when I desperately wanted to compete in this once in a lifetime race? Why do I run? On top of that I pondered how totally "done" I am with isolated cross-training. I want to run. I want to not hurt. At the moment I can't even walk without a limp. Regardless, I attempted another 6.5 mile run this past Saturday, and again a 6 mile hard run on Monday. I finished both in pain and today I am limping again.

No, none of this is as tragic as a shark attack, but the lesson of perspective has resonated with me this week. Looking at my situation up close leaves it blurred and I am unable to see the blessing in it. There is a blessing in everything. There is a reason; there is a way through; there is an end to the pain; there is another race waiting for me. I may not recover in time for the Masters World Track and Field Championships. If not, than it is what it is. What else can be done? My little world and my little life is still much bigger than any single solitary competition. Right?

So I am limping today but my perspective is fresher. I will do what I can do. If I can run tomorrow I will. If I can't than I will swim or aqua-run. By the way, doing hard aqua intervals and hard sprint swimming intervals is very near the perfect replacement for running. My fitness has truly remained intact ... just waiting for the tendon to heal. In the meantime, I will keep a healthy perspective.

The Ray of Sunshine

2011-05-01T14:27:00.000-07:00

I sat hunched over in the crack of sunshine that illuminated the east wall of Los Banos Pool. It has been windy all week and today was no exception. I shivered in my bathing suit, wet from my pre-pool shower. Thankfully there was that ray of sunshine in which to wait.

I have a bitter-sweet relationship with the pool and this particular day was more of a bitter one. Waiting for the swim club kids to exit the water, I noted that the surface was choppy from the wind and it was going to be crowded with master swimmers. This meant I would have an extra challenge. I would have to deal with water being splashed in my face and would have to stay out of everyone's way. One of the older swimmers asked me if I was going to be walking in the water today. Walking? Does she see what goes on under the water? Yah, basically I move forward about -.3 miles per hour, but ... walking? I glared at the water and felt less than motivated.

This week marks the 6th consecutive in which I cross-trained and went entirely without a run on solid ground. In that respect, my relationship with the pool would soon change. If my recovery is successful, my pool runs will be replaced by land runs. I would visit the pool only for swim sessions to supplement my training. But, what if.

What if after 6 weeks, my achilles isn't healed enough, isn't strong enough. It's do or die now. I have 2 months to train for the World Championships. I cannot afford even one more week off from running, so if I'm not healed, my dream may come to an end.

When you have to let go of running for 6 weeks, I have found that it is best to truly let it go. But there's a part of running you have to hold onto too. Therefore, I look at it this way: I am in training. I have chosen to look at cross-training as training, rather than see it as a reduced form of exercise that I was confined to. It has been liberating and has added to my mental confidence.

So Saturday was my first day to try running. It was a big day, a huge day. I ran with and amongst my Moms in Motion training group. Since we are all different in pace, I found opportunity to run a bit with each of the others but also ran back and forth in between to make sure everyone made the right turns on the course. Because of this, my pace varied greatly ... which was absolutely fine. It wasn't my goal to go out and set the asphalt on fire. It was my goal to run, feel good, feel strong, and pain free.

I ran with a smile on my face, a big, big smile. I had only mild discomfort and could tell that much healing had occurred. I easily dipped below a 7 minutes pace when I asked my body to do this. I chose grass and dirt as often as I could. I finished a 6 1/2 mile run and my leg was relatively fine afterwards. My forefoot strike and push off was tentative, but that may have been my unintended effort to protect my achilles. I bit of icing and there was no lingering soreness. This was a huge day for which I am very grateful. The next challenge is to see how I fare on the track. That happens tomorrow on the soft city college oval.

I will continue to cross train every other day, and run quality work outs every other day. In this manner I plan to heal and train. I am thankful for my friend "the pool" and am particularly thankful for the masters coach, my husband John, who made sure the sessions were fierce and demanding.

It's been cold and windy. Thankfully there was that ray of sunshine in which to wait.

Embrace the Chance for Variety

2011-04-19T10:09:00.000-07:00

People who don't like to run think running is boring. People who like to run think everything else is boring. But ... variety is never boring. So a little swimming here, an aqua-run there; throw in a hilly bike ride, and you have a great week of training.

Trusting that everything I do will help keep me fit, I have actually began to enjoy the cross-training. I must admit that the initial incessant H2O running got old real fast, but since then I have offset those runs with hard swims, and an occasional hard bike ride.

I actually have found the most ideal (for me!) hill repeat route for my bike rides. As far as cycling goes, I offer no apologies for any offense I may cause by saying I find minimal joy and benefit from a long, moderately paced ride. I'm a runner which means I want my heart beating hard the WHOLE time. Do not let me coast, and put no stop lights in my path. So when I ride, I maximize the benefit by doing hill repeats. I love going uphill and hate going downhill. I am a total wimp when it comes to the decline and my hands wear out from brake overuse. So the best possible hill repeat route for me would be a nice, long, hard, steep incline (the kind that makes your legs quiver at the crest) followed by a moderate, straight decline which requires little use of brakes. And I found it. So now I have this totally cool hill repeat route and it is only a mile from my home.

My swimming speed has increased over the past three weeks because I am putting full and complete effort into it and have been doing multiple sessions of swim sprinting. My goal with each workout is to max out my effort and ability, leaving it all in the water. On Sunday (for example), John and I swam the following: 600 meters (Swim, pull, kick) warm up; 6 x 50 full on sprint (about 45 sec recovery between each); 6 x 100 full on sprint (40 to 45 sec recovery); 6 x 50 full on sprint again; 3 x 100 full on sprint. This was followed by 300 meters of kicking and 300 meters of pulling. I can't seem to get around the fact that sprinting and putting in full effort intervals gives me the greatest workout in the absence of my running.

So the variety has been nice, but I remain beggingly hopeful that all of this is enough. I have three weeks remaining to my commitment not to run, and at the end of those weeks I have to be healed enough to begin running again in order to be on schedule for the Masters World Champs. No time to waste and a lot of work to do.

Woe is Me

2011-04-06T10:13:00.000-07:00

Aqua-running ... is boring. Why do the youtube video stars smile when they're strapped to the side of the pool by a tether, flailing like they're rabid? I tried it. It's boring. The ongoing dilemma of finding adequate cross-training occupies my mind. I seek sweat, an overly rapid heart-rate, sore muscles (not sore tendons!), all-over full body fatigue, something that builds me instead of something that bleeds me.

Other options? The elliptical, swimming, bike hill repeats. I think that's all the options. The elliptical ... is boring. BUT it is effective! And the boring elliptical breaks up the monotony of the boring aqua-running. Yesterday I swam the Masters workout at Los Banos and it was awesome. OMGosh! During one part, we had to do three sets of: sprint 50 meters kick x 2 followed by sprint 50 meters swim x 2. My lanes buddies killed it. On the third set of kicks my calf cramped up and wouldn't let go for three minutes. Excellent!

My Achilles is STILL sore to walk. I am icing it at least twice a day and I am imagining the healing that is taking place. Heal, heal, heal!!! It always feels better when it's numb. Odd. I'm also using moist heat to increase nourishing blood flow to the area. Flow, flow, flow. Nourish, nourish, nourish. And I HATE seeing other people running.

Right now I'm off to the weight room. Oh good, sore muscles again. And I am looking forward in the manner of the roller coaster. Positive, negative, up and down. Will 6 weeks be enough? Oh and by the way, there must be something in the water here because runners are dropping like flies.

Sitting on the Sidelines

2011-03-30T16:07:00.000-07:00

I know it's not a substancial amount of time to devote to cross-training for the purpose of healing, but I've been aqua-running for a week now. Not that I expected to be all healed up, but since I had planned on attempting to run the Carlsbad 5000 this weekend despite an Achilles issue, I thought I might test it out today on the track.

What did I expect? Well, as I walked with John to the track, my mind was telling me, "This is insane." Insane as in, "the definition of insanity is to do the same thing and expect a different result." I knew my leg wasn't any better because it still hurt even to walk, but I guess I had to know if I could handle the race pace, or I had to prove to myself that it wasn't worth it to race injured.

What did I discover? I taped my achilles with kinesiology tape for support and warmed up slowly on the soft 9th lane of the track. It felt ... stable ... ish, but was clearly sore. I figured I would do some smooth 400's and see how it felt at a quicker pace. Well, I didn't get 50 meters down the track before I pulled up in fierce pain. Frustrated, I limped over to the stadium steps and forced myself up 10 times. Then I did ab work. Later will come the hour long aqua-run in the evening.

The verdict: I will not be competing in the Carlsbad 5000 again this year. I will still attend and watch from the sidelines again this year. It's ok. I have bigger fish to fry in July so my main job right now is to heal. And I will get to watch John and others race and I can cheer them on. It will still be a great day. I say that, but to be honest, in my heart I am frustrated.

The plan: Run in the water, bike the hills, lift weights, and swim for a minimum of 6 weeks without attempting a step of running on dry land. Please, someone tell me this will help. This is such a huge sacrifice of precious training time and I have to know that I will come out the other end prepared to run again.

So once again I will let CB 5000 go, but I take away an excellent lesson. All the months of hard training for an event are not worth it if you ruin yourself before you get to the line. It's better to get to the line healthy and able, so the training needs to be modified in such a manner that this can happen each and every time.

Aquajogging ... I mean Aquarunning

2011-03-24T10:57:00.000-07:00

It's like some unwritten rule of the universe, or at least my universe. As soon as I jump in with both feet, one of the feet breaks. I have two important events on the horizon, one of which is coming up in about a week. The upcoming one is the Carlsbad 5000 to be held the first week in April, and the other is the Masters World Championships in Track and Field set for July.

I haven't run the Carlsbad 5000 for several years for various reasons, but the most recent reason was injury. Last year I sat on the sidelines of several races and nursed a nasty Achilles injury ... for a long time. But this year I was finally healthy and my training has been progressing nicely and my hopes were building for a PR performance.

Well, to get to the point, as soon as I entered the World Championships (like literally the next day), I limped through a run with yet another Achilles injury (opposite leg as last time) screaming at me. It baffles me how I can be "fine" one day and not the next. I know there must have been warning signs and perhaps I've become too good at ignoring them. But however that all works, here I am with another serious injury which is jeopardizing both of my upcoming races.

Last year when this happened, I figured it would resolve in a short amount of time, and I tried cross-training and ART torture, mixed with painful runs. But it didn't resolve as I watched race after race pass me by. This time I can't afford to wait 8 months to recover. But I also can't afford to lose my fitness and training time.

The perfect solution: Aqua-running. I was skeptical that this cross-training method was adequate to maintain a high level of fitness until I did some research. What I discovered was that there has been a lot of research put into this method of working out, and without exception the evidence suggests that it is possible to get the same level of workout in the water as on land, but without the impact. It is possible to continue training as I have been while at the same time, letting the healing really happen. Not only does the lack of impact help, but also the massage of the water against the legs during the running motion is therapeutic, and the water version of running allows for less extension of the Achilles, taking off all the stress. This is what I read, but what I discovered in my first two Aqua-running workouts fully confirmed it.

My workouts have sort of been like this: In the pool I warmed up with 300 meters of swimming. Then I strapped on my flotation belt, got in the deep end and began an interval session: 18 x 2 min hard/30 sec easy, with 2 minutes of easy jogging between each set of 6. This gave me about 50 minutes of running time (most of it hard effort). I finished with 12 x 25 meters of full effort kicking with a kick board. One day I added 6 x 50 meters full effort swim.

My heart rate soared during the hard effort and I needed each recovery. My legs and arms fatigued against the resistance of the water. My motion in the water simulated good running form, and I could feel the massage against my calves everytime I pulled them back. I checked my heart rate regularly and was happy to find a way to run 600's without tearing up my body. My legs were tired afterwards and I could feel it when I climbed our stairs. This all made me very, very happy.

I plan on Aqua-running until I'm healed, although I am still hoping to throw in the Carlsbad 5000 race next week if at all possible. I am thankful beyond words that this cross-training method is available and is suitable for almost any injury, and that I finally decided to try it. The key will be pushing myself into the pain zone as if I were on the track, and right now I am exceedingly motivated to push myself.

Moms in Motion Semana Nautica 15K Running Team 2011

2011-03-22T11:48:00.000-07:00

Moms in Motion is a great organization which was founded many years ago here in Santa Barbara. Over the years, the program has grown nationally and internationally, and has helped 1000's of women realize their athletic potential through structured programs that integrate fun training with other women and moms.

For the benefit of those who are located locally here in Santa Barbara, I would like to announce the spring Moms in Motion running program which is soon to begin: Semana Nautica 15K Running Team 2011. I am so excited to be leading and coaching this team and my mind is overflowing with ideas for our 11 weeks together.

This running program is designed for all levels and training options will be available to suit everyone's need. We will be meeting over the course of 11 weeks beginning Saturday, April 23rd, and will focus on our culminating event: The Semana Nautica 15K which will be held on July 4th. Our group runs will occur every Saturday at 8:00 am at varying locations and we will have additional training events mid-week to focus on running form, and speed work.

My goal for the team is to help every participant discover that running is a huge gift and is not just for the gifted ... running can be everybody's gift. We will build our running program week by week and incorporate additional components such as core strengthening, drills, flexibility exercises, and form work. Additionally, through guest speakers and coaching, we will have instruction on pertinent topics: buying the right shoes, hydration, nutrition, injury prevention, cross-training, etc...

Beginning a lifestyle of fitness can be tough at the beginning but with the comraderie of others who have the same goals, and the motivation of a team and a coach, the Moms in Motion program is hugely successful.

I can't wait to get started. If you have any questions let me know.

We will be holding an Orientation Meeting: Friday, April 15th at the Santa Barbara Running Store in Santa Barbara (110 Anacapa Street). And will get rolling with our first group meeting on Saturday April 23rd.

Additionally, our Moms in Motion Semana Nautica 15K team will be supporting the Santa Barbara County Foodbank.

Visit our website for more information: Moms In Motion

Masters Track and Field World Championships

2011-03-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

Competing in Track and Field was really my first athletic love. Although my very first experience with competing was in Cross Country (4th grade, age 9), it was the track season that I looked forward to.

The highlight of Track and Field for me occurred in high school, when our girls' high school track team (Fernley High School) won the Nevada state AA championship 4 years in a row (my Freshman through Senior year). We were the feared and revered team that everyone dreaded. We would strut confidently into every stadium flashing our medal and champ patch laden letterman jackets. Mine still hangs in my closet where I can frequently look at it and remember wonderful days.

As a runner ages and life marches on, remaining a track and field athlete is not easy. Is my case, my last track meet occurred in college. Of course I continued to compete as a runner, but only in road and cross country races. I have not since put on my spikes and stepped onto a competition track.

I have, however, continued to train on a track, doing intervals and drills, as I have trained for longer events. Although I count these among the hardest workouts I ever have to do, I find some inexplicable joy in running hard around the turns and finding my stride on the back-stretch. My legs tie up and my lungs burn and I am certain I will not have another repeat left in me. But once the interval is finished and the short recovery does its magic, I discover that I am able to do more than I previously thought.

I find myself now with an opportunity to go back in time to my track days. I am going to compete in another track meet. A chance of a lifetime has presented itself and I decided it was now or never. For the first time in 22 years, the Masters Track and Field World Championships will be held in the USA. And not only in the USA, but in California, USA. Sacramento, CA, USA. That is the WORLD championships! I am delirious with anticipation. I am entered to compete in the 800m and 1500m. In the Masters World Championship (and masters meets in general), runners compete against their own age group only. This is important because as we age, we tend to lose some speed. The 800 and 1500 are events which favor speed, so my ladies 40-44 years of age, will all be at an equal disadvantage.

It is as if I am treading on new ground which I have treaded on many times in the past. I will have to hone my training, gird my confidence, learn to believe I can compete against the world, and buy new spikes. When I was young and unfocused, I had a vague dream to compete in the Olympics. That opportunity gave way to greater priorities in life, but for all intents and purposes, this opportunity comes close. I intend to run to win. In both races, I have a legitimate chance. My dad, who passed away when I was 17 years old, always believed in me. Maybe this will be my one moment in time.

July 6th-17th Sacramento, CA
World Masters Athletic Championships

Roses en la Playa Race Report

2011-02-28T17:36:00.000-08:00

When one writes a race report, oh that it would not sound so self absorbed. I'm hoping in this case, I not only report on my race, but on the race.

This weekend (Sunday, February 27th to be precise) was the running of the 5K Roses en la Playa, under sunny skies (thank you thank you thank you), and in almost perfect temperatures. I think it may have possibly made it to 50 degrees by the start, but I'm not sure. One thing's for sure, it was colder after the race. The crazy wind kicked up (I think it came directly from Alaska maybe). Now, according to my knowledge and experience, the most perfect, ideal, precise temperature to run in is 55 degrees. Any variation in either direction will cause the body to have to work harder to some extent to compensate. So this was just a bit colder than ideal.

They came from near and far (some as far as New York) in layer upon layer of clothing, to run in the cold sunshine, hoping the wind would stay at bay. I myself can boast 4 layers on bottom (that includes underwear), and three layer on top, plus arm warmers and gloves. I like to be WARM before my race. The New York people were running around in tanks and shorts. I don't get them ... they don't get us. At least I stripped down to my racing duds for the race (kept the arm warmers and gloves on though) - but I can say I never broke a sweat.

This 5K course has the potential to be very fast. It is primarily out and back, but the start line is mercifully placed at the top of a hill, and the finish line is at the bottom of that same hill. I know that's confusing, but for those who are not familiar with this "Night Moves" course, it goes like this: From the start, runners proceed up an ongoing (it keeps going and going and going) hill, and into a headwind for almost 1 1/2 miles to the hairpin turn-around. Then they (we) get to go back down the hill with the wind at our backs. We pass by the start line and descend a final extra downhill to a fast finish in the chute. As I said, it has fast potential, but headwind can suck the life right out of an ambitious runner, and there's no way to get that lost time back, even downhill with the wind.

So the course wasn't as fast as it could have been had there been no wind. (I'm just saying that because I didn't run as fast as I wanted to). No really, the wind really did factor in. Anyway ... it was a fun day and a well run and well organized event, with a multitude of great people participating. I met a few new running friends and I couldn't be happier.

The breakdown for my particular performance: First, my goal, ugh!!! was to break 18 minutes. I didn't, and it leaves me wondering if I could have if the day had brought more desirable conditions. Here is how it played out. The first mile, with the benefit of fresh legs, was 6:04, which is of course way off-pace but this was the one mile that was entirely uphill and into the wind. The second mile was 1/2 and 1/2 (that's 1/2 uphill/downhill and 1/2 against/with the wind), and included the hairpin turn, and was therefore slightly faster at 5:56. This of course is the mile that killed my time because I needed to make up more time than I did. I was at a 6:00 min pace, but needed to be closer to a 5:50 pace at this point. So I had too much time to make up in the final mile but thankfully it was entirely downhill with the wind. The final mile was 5:36, and when you add the final .1 miles to that, you get the final time of 18:16 (per my watch). It was the best I could do that day and that's all I ever really ask of myself.

Full race results here: http://results.active.com/uploads/txt/106181.txt

I would like to particularly thank Kent for trying to pull me along with him during that final stretch. He was having more fun than I was I think.

Such a fun day, fun race, fun people, fun yummies afterwards. Onward to CB 5000.

Teetering on the Edge

2011-02-26T21:24:00.000-08:00

It reminds me of the day I ran along the cliff in More Mesa. The wind was whipping hard off of the ocean so that it blew against me from the side. As I ran along the edge of the precipice, I pushed against the wind to stay upright. It was thrilling to run in a storm along a dangerous bluff pushing against the force that was keeping me from falling to my death.

Running is like that edge. Any runner at any level will face that edge if they want to reach their potential. You may have struggled on that edge yourself. On the safe side of it, you fail to reach all that you can be as a runner, and on the other side of the edge is the canyon of injury, illness, burnout, and other symptoms of over-training.

It is difficult ... very difficult to make your way forward on the edge without falling. Of course the answer is to "listen to your body" and "make sure and give yourself time to recover." This is advice we readily give to our fellow edge runners, but oh that we would follow it ourselves. I HATE listening to my body. It tells me to take a break right when I am getting into a nice training mode and making some improvement.

But I don't want to fall over that cliff again. I spent most of last year injured, recovering from the injury, and struggling to get back into race condition. I don't want to go there again. I want to stay up here, running free in the wind, taking in the sweeping view.

Why do I even bring this up? Because this week my achilles tendon has been bugging me. Just a little. Not like last year when it crippled my running. Just enough to get my attention. "Yo," it says. What to do? I have a 5K race tomorrow. Maybe it will be fine. Maybe it won't. Regardless of my above mentioned "hate," I consider myself reasonable when it comes to training. I actually do listen ... kinda ... sometimes.

It's hard to teeter on the edge, but if I can stay balanced up there, I may accomplish things I only dreamed of, and beat competitors I used to idolize. If it's in me, I'd like to try. Can you relate to any of this?

Birds VS. Rodents

2011-02-17T16:53:00.000-08:00

It's a sign. I'm sure of it. Not sure what it is a sign of though. Hmmmmm???!!!!

Big birds with large rodents. First on Friday, walking back to our car from the track, John winced as a crow lifted off the ground with a dead rat in its claws. Do crows eat rats? It is possible that crows eat everything they can.

Then, a few days later, on Monday during my run, I saw an egret ... maybe (or some large white stork-like creature) with a huge, extra large gopher hanging lifelessly from its beak. Now this was an odd one and I spent the rest of my run wondering how that bird was going to swallow that meal.

What could it all mean? Puzzle, puzzle, puzzle.

If it had just been the crow vs. rat sighting, I would have passed it off as just a yucky misfortune to have had to witness. But upon seeing the egret vs. gopher, I have to assume that there is some deep, far-reaching significance to it all. It happened twice ... within close time proximity. You don't see that kind of thing often, definitely not twice in the same weekend. It's like a reoccurring dream that shines a light deep into the soul. It holds inner, hidden meaning. So now it's time to speculate as to what I am to learn from the birds vs. rodents.

Here are some possible interpretations:

1. Cindy, you are eating way too much protein. Cut back or you're going to choke.
2. Cindy, you've bit off more than you can chew. You can only have the rat or the gopher, but not both.
3. Cindy, you need to spend more time just hanging out and eating (I like this one).
4. Cindy, as you can see, it is disgusting to eat dead, furry things. Convert it vegetarianism (not a chance).

Or it could be that I'm the rat/gopher and not the crow/egret, requiring an alternate set of possible interpretations as follows:

1. Cindy, you're at the bottom of the food chain. All you get to eat is grass and then some larger creature gets to eat you. (That's a deep one ... I'll have to further contemplate that one).
2. Cindy, if you live according to the laws of nature, you'll only get eaten by the next biggest predator. (Ugh! That's it, no barefoot running for me. I'm sticking with shoes.)
3. Cindy, if you die to yourself, you will fly. (Even if it is while inside the gut of a big bird).
4. Cindy, if someone wants to prey on you let them try. They'll never be able to swallow you. (Hello ... just let 'em try).

Or most likely, this is what the bird vs. rodent "sign" really means:
Cindy, clearly you are obsessed with food and eating. What you saw was just two separate acts of nature that have absolutely nothing to do with you whatsoever. Get some lunch in your stomach and move on.

Yep, I think that's it. I'm going to have my lunch now.

Enjoying the View

2011-02-09T16:46:00.000-08:00

Much of the country is under snow and ice, bundled in thick clothing for every venture out the door, and praying for Spring to come early. In California, we are appreciating the summer we didn't get when we were supposed to have it. Running has been the purist of pleasures, in perfect temperatures and abundant sunshine. For these things I am very thankful.

Training has its ups and downs. Things can't always feel optimal, but I forget this little detail when things are down. I am always searching for the perfect plan which will help me find my peak performance yet will not break me down in the process. So this week, post-Super Bowl Race, I have been feeling kind of tired, and so I contemplate whether my runs are just "junk miles" this week, or whether I can consider them recovery runs.

Here is my dilemma. Each week I do a long run, a tempo run and an interval workout (and then other runs and swims too). I do these regardless of whether I will also have a race (unless it is a big one and I taper). But when I do have a race, that constitutes an additional hard day. So naturally I need to let my body rest, and my preference is to have an easy run day. But when I run on my own, no matter how hard I try, my easy run begins to pick up pace and ends up being another hard run. And then the next day I am still tired, so I plan another easy run (or run/swim). Again I pick up the pace and waste myself. So when my hard days come along, I'm still tired.

But today, I had a glorious run. Perfect temp, beautiful sunshine, and I chose a course with a view. I was, yes, still tired as I started out, but I maintained a nice and moderate pace this time. During the later portion of the 8 mile run, I ran up a trail into the Douglas Preserve. As I ran up the trail, I thought about what a great thing it was that this piece of land was purchased and preserved so that we could all enjoy it. And I did.

Once up into the preserve, I loped along the dirt paths, rounded the sharp bend which overlooked Hendry's Beach, and continued on under the Eucalyptus trees. I took in the smells, the feel of the air, and the breathtaking views of the ocean.

Running can't always be about focused training. Sometimes we need to not only let the body recover, but also the spirit and mind. Therefore I am inclined to suggest that today's run was definitely not "junk miles." In fact, that is terminology to which I neither subscribe nor ever use in my vocabulary. There is purpose in every run.

Ok, yes, my body still feels wiped and tomorrow is a hard 10 miler, ugh! But I feel renewed. I feel my training is directed properly, and is beneficial, and yet is not pushing me over the threshold into injury, illness, pain, and ruin.

That's how I feel about running this week.

Super Bowl 4 Miler Race Report

2011-02-06T13:59:00.000-08:00

Sunday, February 6, 2011 Super Bowl 4 Miler
Once again the weather could not have been more ideal. It was a cool morning to begin with but the sun radiated friendly warmth. There was not a notable wind to speak of. Cool enough to not overheat, but warm enough to wear minimum clothing.

The Super Bowl course is fairly flat, but most of it was a "false flat," ascending and descending. I like to think the ups and downs were balanced out, but the reality is the ups take more out of you than the downs can make up for. Because of the many 90 degree turns onto neighborhood streets, and the pot-hole laden section in Carneros Lake park, I would say this is a fast course, but could have been faster.

I believe this year the start and finish line were a little different and according to my Garmin, the course was a little short. I determined based on my pace, that it was about 15 seconds short.

The women's race was nicely competitive from my perspective. Over the first 2 miles there was a jockeying of position among 4 women including Bethany, Jill, Jessica and myself. I was content to sort of hang back to see how everyone else would settle in. It was my plan to try VERY HARD to stay at an even pace. In other words, I did not want the first mile to be too much under my overall pace (overall pace goal for the race was 5:50).

So as the first mile progressed, I did not check my pace but tried to go on feel. Although there were fast females ahead of me, I felt I was running well, and holding back. I felt comfortable and resisted the urge to pass the others. So when the first mile beeped in at 5:39 I was surprised and began to fear that the faster first mile would bite me in the butt later. Never the less, the pace was comfortable.

The second mile was fairly evenly flat but had several turns. A 90 degree turn always poses a problem. A runner has to decelerate prior to the turn, make the turn at a slower pace, and then expend energy to pick it up again afterwards. The second mile went by in 5:46, still under ideal race pace, still fairly comfortable.

By the third mile, the women settled into pace and position with Bethany in the lead, myself holding several seconds behind her, and Jill a few seconds behind me. The third mile contained a lengthy gradual incline and also a transition into the park. I was, at this point, trying to just maintain pace, which put more pressure on my system due to the subtle hill. This mile dropped to a 6:02.

The final mile was the most challenging as it contained broken asphalt, dirt path and the most substantial incline on the course. However, because it is the final mile, the challenge and the growing fatigue are often off-set by the anticipation of the finish line and the final kick. I felt quite fatigued coming out of the park but had enough in me to push strong up the hill. Once at the top, the finish line was almost in view. The final mile was the slowest but not too far off. It was 6:05. However, since the couse was slightly short, this final mile was not quite a full mile. My final time was 23:15.

According to my Garmin, my pace was 5:53 overall. According to the official results, my pace showed up as 5:49 overall. Either way it was a great race for me. It was grueling but I could tell my fitness is finally returning, and I was able to hold a better pace for longer. That was a great feeling.

The other ladies did well too, and having that close competition is always a plus. Although I crossed the line as the second female, running a strong race is the higher priority. I would rather take second place with a PR than first with a slower time.

The race was a great experience and as always, the community of runners in Santa Barbara are top notch. So many friendly folks. Oh, hey ... and all you can eat hotdogs post-race. It just doesn't get any better than this.

Romeo 4 Miler and 2 x 2 Couples Relay

2011-01-30T14:34:00.000-08:00

The weather could not have been more perfect for my first race(s) of 2011. The Romeo 4 Miler is a two loop course around the UCSB Lagoon, and I would easily put it in the category of cross-country running. It is the first of the three race UCSB series. Following the 4 miler, with a bit of time for recovery, was the 2 x 2 mile couples relay. John and I did both races.

The UCSB race series is so awesome. They have some components which are really fun such as the "yellow jersey" which gets awarded to the top male and female finishers. The yellow jersey will be worn by the recipient for subsequent races until they are dethrowned. Additionally, each of the races feature a sprint finish in the final 400 meters. There is a whole separate competition related to those sprint finishes. Also, each race finish represents a certain amount of points depending on finishing place. Points are accumulated throughout all three events and culminate with a series winner.

The course featured rough asphalt (with a lot of potholes and ankle twisting possibilities) and trail, with two short steep climbs (that's two per loop for a total of 4), additional ups and downs, a bit of loose sand and water hazards along the lagoon (you had to run around or jump the puddles). It was not a fast course, but was a lot of fun ... a lot of fun.

Putting the quest for personal records aside, a tough, varied course has to be my favorite type. It makes it a true race against other runners rather than a race against the clock. I went into this first race of the year knowing I wouldn't be running my fastest 4 miler, and knowing I would have to somehow conserve something in the tank for the couple relay to follow. Mentally then, I kept telling myself, "Don't leave it all out on the course." I actually never even referenced my Garmin for pace. I just glanced at the mile times to monitor whether I was keeping it steady (I wasn't), which was my goal.

The plan was to run the first loop more layed back, and then try to push it a bit on the second loop. Then I would leave the "all out" effort for the final loop during the relay. Good plan, but poorly executed. The race unfolded thusly: First mile felt relaxed and I held back reasonably well. Never the less, with the rough surfaces and hills, it still hurt to some extent. It was a happy 6:01. The second and third miles dropped way off pace as I attempted to slow up and conserve. They were something like 6:14 and 6:17, clearly a substantial slow down. The fourth mile was in 6:04 for a final time of 24:42. A strong enough effort to earn the yellow jersey, and still have something in the tank.

The course was strenuous for sure, but also allowed for periods of recovery. With 4 miles completed, all that was left was my leg of the couple's relay. I used to love running track, and having multiple events per day, but I was not loving the idea of multiple cross-country loops. Ugh! I tried to stay loose during the 30 minutes prior to the relay, but when I jogged a bit to loosen up I realized I did NOT want to run another hard loop. Such a weenie, I know. I have grown accustomed to doing my little race and then relaxing for the remainder.

But both John and I rallied. He had run a solid 4 miler too, but was up for the challenge of running the first leg. The prize for the winning couple was a romantic dinner for two, so we were both motivated and focused. We strategized that he should go first and get us into position, and that I would have the job of trying to pick people off in the final leg. I do like to have a target rather than run from the front.

Our strategy paid off and our legs held out. We got that awesome dinner for two and will save it for Valentine's Day. So much fun.

We finished off the active morning with a burrito from Freebird's and a Starbucks and are looking forward to the Super Bowl 4 Miler next week. After a rough, hilly course, a fast flat race will be nice.

Running Through Pain is Like a Menstrual Cramp

2011-01-21T16:33:00.000-08:00

Boy and how ... these blogs are coming along at a slow trickle. I have been doing a lot of article writing and have neglected the lonely blog.

As the heading of my blog suggests, I am a masters runner (not at all meaning that I've "mastered" anything, but rather woefully referring to my over 40 age), and I am learning that pain during and after a run is kind of a more normal event than it used to be. I remember, in my younger days, how I would puzzle over discussions of running surface and how concrete was supposed to be worse to run on than asphalt. Back then I didn't get it because nothing hurt regardless of the running surface. Well .... today I puzzle less over this discussion. In fact I now begin such discussions as I massage my broken feet after a 10 mile run on concrete. For the record, concrete is less forgiving than asphalt.

The issue for a masters runner then is to try to determine which pain is "normal" and benign, and which pain is acute and ... bad. I recently struggled with an Achilles tendon injury which was undeniably a bad kind of pain. But this week I'm dealing with the worst of low back spasms. So what do I do with the back spasms? Do I take time off and let my conditioning whittle away like an ice sculpture in Death Valley?

No. This is my philosophy, which I do not recommend anyone else follow. Unless it is a clear and identifiable soft tissue or bone injury, on which I can put a label and for which I can research recovery options, I run through the pain ... if I can. That kind of makes it cut and dry for me.

So the low back pain (which I diagnosed as a muscle spasm) is something I've experienced before, so I am not totally freaked out about it. This time it came on subtly as a general discomfort and I was able to run. In fact, running made it feel better (endorphins, natural pain killers ... excellent). But, last Friday during my interval workout on the track, I noted that my back got worse with every lap around the track. By the time I finished, it hurt to take a deep breath (can't figure that one out - this is my low back not my upper back). So I did the big IGNORE and followed up the track work with 1500 meters of 50's in the pool.

That's when the pain became a noticeable issue and I struggle to get comfortable seated, standing or lying down. The next day was even worse and I had difficulty moving my right leg in certain directions, not because I was unable to move it, but because it would elicit horrid pain. I felt that a good option would be to shorten my long run for that day. Rather than 15 miles, I ran 8. It was not a happy 8, it was just a necessary 8. I maintained a 7 minute pace just so I could get it over with.

Yes, the next day was even worse. I took that day off.

No improvement the next day, but I wasn't about to take another day off, so I limped through another 8 miles, this time not so quickly. What I noted all along is that it hurt before and it hurt during, but I would feel a great relief afterwards.

Swam the next day, but believe it or not, swimming was worse than running and making the flip turns ... hmmm painful. Pulling was painful. Kicking wasn't too bad. Conclusion: running is better, using my legs is better.

Ran 10 miles the next day and finally I could say the pain was beginning to ease up. Swam the next day (was going to swim and run but wimped out on the run). And today I was back on the track and was able to do all 6 of the 800's under 2:38. And I could breathe easier. The pain was now more like tightness.

It's like going through a menstrual cramp or labor pain. It starts out mellow, but then increases in intensity until it peaks out at some obnoxious level, then slowly begins to let go. So that you men can relate, it's like experiencing a leg cramp in the middle of the night.

So that is the saga of my back spasm and my philosophy of running through it if I can. Go, and don't do likewise.

Outrunning the Arrows

2011-01-09T15:12:00.000-08:00

How profound can a car commercial really be? I am watching the NFL playoff game between the Eagles and Packers and I just saw a car commercial which I've seen before. Funny how you can watch a commercial and totally miss the brand which was being advertized. In fact I don't really get the commercial at all, at least as it pertains to cars. So it's a car commercial and it is set in a desert or dry lake bed and a car takes off while a group of archers shoot arrows in the same direction. I guess the cool thing is supposed to be that the car is fast enough to outrun an arrow. Like, hopefully it will never have to do that in real life, but it's nice to know there is a car that can outrun an arrow.

However, the commercial is deeper than that to me. I was watching the car take off, and watching the arrows fly through the air in slow motion. It symbolized my life. It isn't really a car commercial, it's a commercial about the life of a tormented runner, or even a non-tormented runner.

Life is full of arrows. The arrows might be injustices, the mistakes of others, jealousy and envy, obstacles, trials, tribulations, things that try to take you out before you can get out of range. The car is ... me, or you. The arrows are coming and you can stand there and get speared and pierced to death, or ... you can run. You're not really running away from the arrows, you're just getting out of range, to a safe place where the arrows can't hurt you.

So how does this work? This is how outrunning the arrows works in my life. Running helps me cope, makes me stronger, helps me focus, provides goals, provides health, and keeps my life in a positive place. So while the arrows are all around me: searching for a job, on the waiting list for nursing school, assaults from a dark hearted person, transitions ... I am out of range, and therefore I cannot be harmed. I have chosen not to stand in one place and get pelted. I have chosen to keep moving and to do positive things, and be a good person. I choose to outrun the arrows.

I love NFL playoff commercials.

The Finish Line

2011-01-02T17:04:00.000-08:00

The proverbial finish line. It can represent many things in running, and many things in life. The finish line can symbolize completion. It can pertain to a goal attained. It can mean a time of rest and restoration. It can spell victory for the first, and victory for the last. It can even be simply the end of something very long and difficult.

For me today, the finish line means ... a horde of sweaty insane runners who had the audacity to run a 5K or a 10K on New Year's Day, the day after New Year's Eve. Some of those mental people felt nauseated at the starting line, and relieved themselves at the finish line. We were there to witness the finish line of the Resolution Run ... note that we didn't run at the Resolution Run. We just got to help out a bit.

Pulling tags off of competitor's bibs and keeping them in order for the timers is a pressurized job. Here are the lessons learned from this noble task:

1. It is best if runners take a moment to tear their own tag and hand it to the finish line tag puller people. Know why? Because runners put their race bibs on, hmmmm.... certain body parts, and well .... it's best if they tear it off instead of me.

2. Some people don't follow the simplest of instructions. Did you know that there is this printed instruction on all race bibs: Do not pin. Yes. This is the instruction printed on the perforated flap that gets torn off at the finish line. Guess what happens when that instruction is not followed. Now we've got an issue, not only with the body part, but with the complicated task of removing a safety pin or two.

3. Some people do pre-tear off their race bib tag ... and throw it away before the race starts. Some tear it off before the race and throw it in their car ... and then retrieve it from the car and hand it to the finish line tag tearing people a half an hour after they finished.

4. People look really thrashed in the finish chute on New Year's Day.

Ultimately it was fun at the finish line and it was a blessing to help out. Runners are among the greatest of all people and we watched many strong people fight to get to that line ... the line that means they can stop fighting now. It was a privilege to tear off your race bib tag.

A Christmas Run ... and a Gift from God

2010-12-26T11:00:00.000-08:00

After a week of icky weather, we had a glorious break and a sunny day on Christmas Eve. One would only assume that Christmas Day would follow suit. Well it looked somewhat promising at first, as the sun came out early. But it deteriorated quickly and became cold, windy and dark. I think it is the worst weather I can remember experiencing on a Christmas Day in a long, long time.

We had, however, predetermined that we would run in the afternoon. Before I changed into my running clothes, I stepped out onto the porch, looked at the threatening sky, felt the cold wind hit me, smelled moisture in the air, turned to John and asked, "and why exactly are we running today?"

It had been predetermined and was therefore set in stone. We were running and knew we eventually would not regret it. I put on running tights, gloves, and my warmest running turtle neck. I looked down at my Nike Free running shoes and began to lament over the hole that had developed in the upper. That hole made my foot bleed the day before during our track workout.

I looked up at the shelf in my closet and saw the Newton box. Newtons are .... expensive. And I owned this pair only because I won them in a race. I take special care of my Newtons and use them only for races. Even so, I've had them for 1 1/2 years and they were very worn. I worried over my Newtons because I knew they were at the end of their life cycle. I couldn't afford to wear them on a casual Christmas Day run ... that is, unless I had a replacement pair waiting for my under the Christmas tree.

If you could see me now, you would see my arms thrown up in victory. I DID have a new pair waiting for me ... in the form of a gift certificate for Newtons. YES!! Not only did this mean my racing career could continue (I thought it was going to die with the Newtons), but it also meant I could wear the old girls on my Christmas run, and fore go the holey Nikes.

We ran along a bluff, up on the cliff above the ocean. Our first obstacles were the incessant mud puddles that infiltrated the sandy trail. Cold water sloshed in and I began laughing. This is so fun. And it was going to get even more fun.

Next, we made our way to the trail that ran literally 1 foot away from the edge of the cliff. It was amazing as I looked down hundreds of feet of jagged rock to see the rough ocean churning from the imminent storm. There was a strong updraft that hit us and we were blown around on the cliff's edge. There was this glorious thrill of danger and I was laughing all along the way.

We finally came to some solid, safer ground as we came back to a road that lead us to the bike path. Then it began to rain. Wet feet, mud slung all over our backsides, and now rain ... hitting our heads, and splashing up from the road to soak our legs. "This is excellent!!"

And that's when I spotted it. The "Gift from God" up ahead, faintly through the wet air. It was rectangular and in a hue of blue. I thought to myself, it can't be. Is that what I think it is? Such perfect timing? As we trotted closer my hope was confirmed. It was an uncaged, fully available, legal to use (maybe) ... port-a-potty :) It sang out to me in Christmas "Hallelujahs" and a light shown from from heaven all around it. It was as if time stopped and the weather ceased. To have four plastic walls instead of the cloak of a bush. To have toilet paper instead of a leaf. Well, that's as graphic as I'm going to get, but you get the point.

It was a happy Christmas run full of little gifts. The gift of old Newtons. The gift of wet socks and brown puddles. The gift of a windy precarious cliff. The gift of rain. And the miracle of the port-a-potty. It just doesn't get any better than this.

Repetitive Stupidity

2010-12-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

Fridays are the planned torture day ... speedwork. In order to force myself into consistency with speedwork, I have to simply set it as the routine. Thankfully I have a faithful husband and running partner who joins me on torture day.

Sooooo, yah. Last Friday was the beginning of "the week the sun forgot to shine." It was cold, sunless, raining, dark, and ugh! very windy. Well, at least by SoCal standards. Now, under such "harsh" (I know ... I'm a weenie) conditions, a long rhythmic run might not have been so bad. I could just sort of buckle down and get it done, plot my course so that I ran mostly with the wind, and maybe even wear an ugly plastic garbage bag and suffer through the sweat. That wouldn't have been so bad. BUT, it was Friday ... torture day. Speedwork day, which I do on the SBCC track.

I set my own workouts for the track, and lest I am too easy on myself, I try to make the workout difficult. So the plan for dark Friday was 12 x 400 (gradually increasing intensity with each set of four). There was, not surprisingly virtually no one else on the track, which immediately caused me to question my sanity. The track was soaked, and even though it has a new beautiful surface, there were still pockets of water all over it. But the most disturbing scene at the track was the sideways rain. It was coming down heavy but gosh darn it, it was windy. On a track, it is impossible to run 400 meters without doing at least half of it straight into the wind. This was going to be a workout in repetitive stupidity.

It was so cold, but I figured it would be ok once I warmed up. I jogged a mile, but every time I hit the back straight away I cried out in agony, "OMG, you've got to be kidding. This is so stupid." Never warmed up, and just got wetter.

Then I figured after a few intervals I would feel better. Not! My legs were stiff with frigidness and although each repeat began fresh, within 20 meters I hit the wall of cold wind and pushed through it, not only in discomfort from the cold, but also from the fatigue that immediately set in. Although the final 150 meters was with the wind, I was too pitiful to give it any gas and just sort of made it to the finish line. This was the stupidest workout.

After the first set of four, keeping in mind that we took a very short recovery so as not to obtain frostbite, I thought to myself that maybe 12 intervals was too many. I reasoned that the wind factor should at least count for 4 intervals. Eight sounded better than 12. This was so stupid anyway.

After the next 4, which were harder and faster (still hardly any recovery), somehow I began to become fondly acquainted with the "wall of icy wind" and I hardened my determination. I said we were supposed to do 12, so 12 we would do. But it was still stupid.

The last set of 4 were supposed to be the hardest and they were. But we did it. We did the last 4, we did the full 12, the conditions remained difficult, we were freezing ... but satisfied. I was now full on stupid. Bring on the rain. Bring on the wind. The ice, the hail, the dark days. I was empowered because I made it through the stupid repeats. Isn't that what running does for us?

Trail Run Gone Wrong ... or Right!

2010-12-17T10:17:00.000-08:00

Wednesday's run started out normal enough. Six mildly deranged runners gathered pre-dawn for our fun in the dark ... and cold ... and fog ... and drizzle. We decided on a typical default loop around Questhaven, but would cut it a little short by cutting back over the mountain on the trails. That would make it about 4 miles on roads, 2 miles on trails.

This morning we were joined by a couple of newbies, one who was visiting from Arkansas on business. He was the one dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. The rest of us SoCal weenies had hats, gloves, long sleeves, but still managed shorts. Poor Ryan from Arkansas ... he thought it was going to be a normal run with normal runners. Oops. Sorry Ryan.

We headed out gradually down Questhaven, a nice 3 miles descent and we were all happy, a little moist, but the sun was beginning to show up in the cloudy sky. By the time we had gotten down the hill and were ready to climb back up toward home, our group had spread a bit. As we approached the trail we were to take back, the one among us ... the ONLY one among us who knew the trails, needed to double back to make sure everyone found their way. He asked me if I knew my way back from here so that I could lead us home, and I clearly said "No." I followed that up with these fatal words, "But I'm sure we can figure it out." Wrong. The one bit of advice we had to go on was, if we get to a barbed wire fence, we should turn around. That's a little vague ...

Yah, so Dax, the trail knowing San Elijo native left Ryan from Arkansas, Paul the barefoot runner, and myself, and went back to collect the others.

So the three of us ran up the obvious trail, following Dax's general philosophy ... "if there's a choice between two trails, take the one that goes up hill." We actually went the right way for a while, but then lo and behold, we came upon that dreaded barbed wire fence. The command, "turn around" crossed all three of our minds, and we did. We turned around, ran about 5 steps and promptly took another trail that went ... up hill. Wrong trail. WRONG trail.

We were going the wrong way, up the wrong hill, but we were disoriented by the fog and couldn't really tell which direction we were running. We figured we could at least get to the top of the mountain and look out to get our bearing. When we got to the top, we looked out and saw ... fog. But we still sort of knew we need to eventually go left.

The trail we chose from there started out going left, but then curled around to the right. But it was the nicest trail we could hope for. Ryan said it reminded him of Arkansas. Paul liked it because it was grass covered and he was running in Vibrams. I liked it because it was downhill. We all figured we would eventually come across a trail that branched to the left. But ... there was no other trail.

The trail we had happened upon, we learned from signs along the way, was called Alpha Trail. Amazingly, even though we were running the totally wrong direction, we found our way to a familiar spot. We found Questhaven road. Yeah!! We're saved. One problem. We were behind a very stable chain link fence and there was no way out. Caged, like Mountain Lions ... and unfortunately we were also in the Mountain Lion cage. No go. Couldn't get over the fence.

We had to run back UP the Alpha Trail. It isn't as nice going back up. And we still had no idea how to get going in the right direction. By this time the comments began about how the others will begin to worry and wondering whether we would make it back on time to get to work. Finding ourselves a little desperate, we decided to blaze a new trail thinking we would or course eventually find the right way. That was another ... mistake. We got into an obscure field of thick brush, found no trail, and then wondered how to get out of the brush back to where we entered it.

Well, this was the way it went, and we wandered thus until we made it back to a mountain top and back tracked down and finally found a very thin, little trail that at least went in the right direction. Holy cow! We found the barbed wire fence again. Hmmm .... we ran from there and found the correct trail. And our way home.

Paul had scrapes from the attempt to climb over the chain link fence, Ryan chaffed from his wet t-shirt (remember it was drizzly) and was now shirt-less and kinda cold. I was just a little muddy.

When we finally hit pavement, Dax was up ahead running toward us. We could tell it was him through the fog because of his fluorescent orange shoes, and he is now affectionately now known as Rudolf. He said to us, "Hmmm. Did you guys get lost?" Duh.

Actually we didn't get lost, we "found." We found a new way to run that loop for those days when we want to increase the mileage by 2 miles, and the climbing by 1000 feet. Excellent. I have a new favorite trail run.

Guess what I'm going to do on Monday. The new trail :)

Transitions

2010-12-12T17:33:00.000-08:00

The end of one year ... the beginning of another. The reality of life is really just a series of transitions isn't it? Growing up, growing older, growing wiser, stronger, faster. These all require transitions and change. Nothing seems to stay the same for long and as soon as you think you've found the sweet spot, life moves on again. So it has been for me. Many practical transitions for sure including relational, employment, physical relocation, spending 3/4 of the year healing from a stupid Achilles injury, and now I find myself in a new place.

When I was a kid, I remember playing on the monkey bars until my hands were blistered and bloody. Swinging from bar to bar, the challenge was finding out the hard way how many bars I could successfully skip and still catch myself from falling. Transition is a lot the same way. There is the challenge of finding out how far you can reach and there is the catch of your breath as you are momentarily suspended between two bars, touching neither. You could actually fall. But of course, that is the challenge. And that is the challenge also of transition. Often you have to let go of something secure in order to reach something greater.

Running. I thank my God that I can. After a season of pain with every step, now every painless step is so appreciated. Running has gotten me through many transitions and even though I still find myself suspended between the two bars, I am somehow stronger, and serene in the moment. Not a feeling of panic, but a feeling of freedom and exhilaration.

I've had to slowly say goodbye to some of the most amazing people, my running buddies. Anyone who runs with buddies knows how much of a camaraderie there is in such a group. I will be meeting new running buddies. I look forward to that too. Another transition.

My name is Cindy. I've been a competitive runner since I was 9. I've now entered the era of my life when I get to be a Master runner. Basically it just means I'm getting older. But that doesn't mean I can't still get faster. This blog begins today and will serve as a chronicle of my training, racing, and life within that context. I've decided it will be an amazing journey.