Little Try-Athlete

HRH has been going to weekly swim lessons for almost three year now. Swimming is, obviously, a skill that Arizona kids need to have; there are so many pools here that it's really not a luxury.  While Husband was a simmer in high school, I'm not much of a swimmer; I get panicked when my face is in the water, but I'm trying very hard not to project that irrational fear to her.
Thankfully, she doesn't seem to have picked up on my proclivity for non-water-related activities and has come a long way from sitting at the edge of the pool crying for the entire 30 minutes. Right now she's in the "Star" level and is becoming proficient in both the crawl stroke and the backstroke. She's loving every second of it.
Last weekend, the swim school hosted a "try-athlon." I signed HRH up for it the second I heard about it, and I've been playing up the excitement ever since.
Of course, it wasn't a regular triathlon; to make sure the kids stayed interested, the swim and run legs were obstacle courses; the cycling leg was deemed tricky enough, since several kids, HRH included, are less proficient on those training wheels-encumbered bikes than their swim strokes.
For the swim, the kids jumped in the pool inside a giant floaty (probably not the technical term, but we've established that I'm not hip to the pool lingo) and swam to almost the halfway point. Then they had to go over one lane marker and under another before they swam to the other end, where they had to toss a basketball into a hoop.
HRH struggled once she got out of the floaty; 25 meters is farther than she's ever swum. But the coaches were great; there were always enough coaches in the pool (and more on the deck) to make sure all the kids made it safely regardless of their ability level.

Blurry action shot - HRH is the one still in the air.

This was right as I tried not to panic when her face went under water.
Deep breaths, Momma.
Now I know how Michael Phelps's mom feels (sort of).

Her transition time needs some work; she didn't really cooperate with me as I put her socks on (she insisted on socks because she wears socks with her running shoes), but once her shoes were on, she was off to the bike.
I've actually been suggesting that she get a little bike for a while, and she's resisted, saying that she's happy with her tricycle. So it was no surprise that she was hesitant. Once again, the coach came through and helped her the entire way (a giant loop on one side of the blocked off parking lot), even though it seemed like HRH pedaled less than half the time.

Finally, the running. This was the longest distance, although not terribly far in HRH's estimation, and there were five obstacles. The first I honestly can't remember - I think it involved jumping, but I was trying to get close for a snap and missed it. Then she had to jump rope four times, hula hoop five times, crawl through a big pipe, and run through a "human car wash" before crossing the finish line.

And at the finish, water and orange slices as runners accepted their participant medals.

She just loved it. She's already game for another triathlon and has decided that she does actually want a bike after all.
Of course, I'm ridiculously proud of HRH. While she has swum, biked (OK, triked), and run before, the longer distance in the pool and the obstacles that were put into place could have thrown her off. But she kept her cool, especially when she began to struggle in the pool (it took all of my energy NOT to panic) and asked the nearest coach to help her. Being able to speak up when she really needed it and continue with an activity even if some parts (the biking) were a little scary is a quality I want her to have, and now that she knows the exhilaration of success, I think that the event really cemented that lesson.
And now it's time for me to get healthy so we can do a race together someday.

Pat's Run 2014 Recap

I'm not sure that it was wise, but I convinced the ortho to give me clearance to participate in Pat's Run when I went in for my post-x-ray consult for the sacroiliitis.  He said that as long as I took it easy and walked if I had to, I should be OK.
(My physical therapist was not as thrilled to hear that and has since put the kibosh on running, but more of that in another post)
So, on a lovely and unseasonably cool April morning, I met up with about 32,000 of my closest friends for the 10th Pat's Run.
It was ten years ago that Pat Tillman, a former ASU Sun Devil and Arizona Cardinal, was killed in a still-controversial incident in Afghanistan. In the decade since, the Pat Tillman Foundation has helped support military scholars across the country.
This year, Husband stayed home with HRH, and I met up with a few of my girlfriends for the race and post-run breakfast and cocktails.
I'd signed up for the event before I got injured, so I estimated the time based on my performance the past couple of years with an allowance for my recent shin splints episode. However, when I was told by the ortho to slow down, I opted to start in a later corral with the girls and see how things went. All I knew was that once I hit the stadium, I'd be running even if I had to walk the entire way up to that point.
Thankfully (for my sanity), I was able to run most of the way. We walked the first half of the Mill Ave. bridge, all the way up Curry, and over all of the Rural bridge. I suggested that I may walk up the incline into the stadium, but I didn't. I was too excited/happy to be there at that point, and I took off without even telling my friends that I was going to do so.
Oops.
But then we found each other quickly, and all was right in the world.

Of course, then it was time for pictures.

Devin (56) and Evan Goodman, both OLs

Getting this close to a mascot - even my beloved Sparky - was a HUGE deal for me.
#mascotsarecreepy

I loved this year's shirt - it actually fit like a technical shirt should.

Official time: 51:35
Place (overall): 14,598
Place (women's): 6164

Looking at my splits, my first mile was the fastest, but all of them were significantly slower than what I was used to running. However, I was glad to finish in under an hour; I felt like that was something of a victory in itself.
I'm not sure when my next race will be; nothing is going on the calendar until I get a clear green light to run again AND the pain has abated. But despite the achy hip the next day, Pat's Run, as always, was a wonderful - and extremely well organized - event that was worth the aches and pains to honor a fallen hero and support our military scholars. Here's to hoping I'll be healthy enough to run next year.

One Run for Boston - Stage 52

I will likely never qualify for the Boston Marathon. I'm not even sure I'll run a full marathon at this point, so a BQ isn't even on my bucket list (although how awesome would it be to go watch the race in person someday).
Regardless of my personal involvement with marathoning, I love the Boston Marathon. I love its history, and I love the idea of running through such a cool city (having been there exactly once, I'm obviously an authority on its coolness factor).
And what's more amazing than watching what the human body is capable of doing?
Which is what made the fact that two people chose to also show what human cruelty is capable of doing in that same venue last year that much more horrific.
Thankfully, for the two people who wanted to wreak havoc and spread hatred, there have been thousands of people who want to perpetuate joy and spread love in rebuttal.
One Run for Boston is just one portion of those thousands of people, made up of several thousand on its own. Started by three runners who just wanted to do something to show the victims of the marathon bombing and the people of Boston that they have the running community's support, the first One Run was in the summer of last year.
It was so successful - in terms of both fundraising and community building - that the One Run for Boston 2 started last week from the Santa Monica pier in California, once again headed east toward the city that the run is supporting.
When I learned that the run would be going through Phoenix this time around, I jumped at the chance to be a part of it and gladly paid my entry fee, which, like all other funds raised by the organization, were sent to give financial support to the bombing victims and their families.
I signed up for Group Stage 52, which was held at Papago Park near the zoo. Many of the stages are individual, but there are also group stages, like this one, in which a "the more the merrier" emphasis is placed. This was a shorter distance, which, as I signed up when my legs were still aching from shin splints, sounded good, and since it was a loop around the park, I knew I'd be able to get back to my car easily.
What I didn't count on was Husband getting his teaching assignment to overlap the run, which meant that I'd have to find a middle of the week evening sitter for HRH. Or bring her with me.
Now, the last time HRH ran with me, it was at the run for Boston event held by Sole Sports Tempe, where she fell and scraped up her knee. She'd been scared to run with me ever since, but this was not negotiable, so there may or may not have been ice cream related bribery involved to get her to acquiesce and not complain.
I also explained the importance of the run to her, and even though empathy is not easily understood by a 5-year-old, she understood that this was a solemn event and agreed not to complain as long as the ice cream I promised could be obtained in either a cone or cup.
It was truly a beautiful evening for a run. The weather (sorry to everyone else everywhere else) was perfect. In the low 80s in the afternoon, once the sun started to dip below the horizon, it was deliciously cool, making for the best conditions.
Before the baton got to the park we took some time to chat with the other runners, including Chris over at The Half Fast Runner, and sign the official One Run for Boston car (donated by Toyota, one of the official sponsors for ORFB).

At first, she was nervous.
"What if I fall again."
"Then you get back up."
"Will you run too fast?"
"I'll run as fast or as slow as you want to. We can even play Red Light Green Light if you want."
"That sounds like fun."
That's when my daughter remembered that she loves to run.

Since I did have HRH with me, I opted to cut through the park a bit, as I wasn't sure she'd be able to make the 5 mile run, even with regular walking breaks.
In cutting through, we were able to see the back of the zoo, and HRH was thrilled to see one of the bighorn sheep up on one of the rocks.
I was more excited to run into Danny Bent, one of the three founders of ORFB; he was waiting to help direct the second wave of runners who were coming in.
Naturally I snagged a selfie.

He's my new BFF, people. This man did not stop smiling the entire time (I'm assuming he's still smiling as he continues through the stages of ORFB) - his enthusiasm is contagious, and it was wonderful to be able to chat with him for a few minutes. I learned that his dad is one of the fastest speed walkers in the world, his marathon time only slightly more than my best half marathon time.
Cutting through didn't cut the route in half, though, and by the end, we'd walked and run 3.5 miles. with an average of 18 minutes per mile.
Her first 5K, plus a little more.
We got back as the rest of the pack, who had gone the entire 5-mile route, were starting to trickle in.
"Mom, did I win?"
I'd tried to explain that this event wasn't a race but rather a relay, kind of like the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse road rally episode (if you really want to torture yourself by watching it, it's on YouTube; basically, it's a scavenger hunt that everyone participates in as a "team," and only Pete doesn't get that it's not a race). But she knows that when I go to running events, they're races, so regardless of what I said, this was A Race, and she wanted to know if she'd won.
"Yes, baby, you won. You won because you didn't stop, even though I know you wanted to."
We did beat the baton back, so it was exciting to see that carried back in to hand off to the next leg, although we all got the chance to get our pictures taken with it. Apparently its name is Miles (I love it).

The greatest aspect of running with HRH in this event was that I could share my love of running with her while at the same time teach her the responsibility that we each have toward our fellow human beings. There are people in this world who are hate-filled and cruel, but their ability to promulgate their negative energy can be countered with each act of kindness that the rest of us can carry out. While understanding the larger impact of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing is still far beyond HRH's scope, she knows that kindness is more important than any other trait, and so my heart is full knowing that Danny, Kate, and Jamie were able to give her yet another example of the ripple effect of one kind act. Thank you, guys, for what you have done for Boston, for the running community, and for my daughter.
To donate to the One Run for Boston, you can donate to the site itself here (click "donate"), or, if you're so inclined, you can make a donation on my page. To track the relay, you can follow the live map here. And, for those of you in more eastern states, check out the stages in your area that still may be open, or which, like Stage 52, are group stages.

Run for Ryan House - Race Recap

This is the third year that I've done the Run for Ryan House, up at DC Ranch in north (noooooooooorth) Scottsdale.  Like previous years, I ran with my friend Christie, whose daughter Sadie sometimes goes to Ryan House for respite care. It is also where my friend Alicia held her daughter for the last time, so while the race site is pretty far from home, it's always worth the drive to know that I'm helping support Ryan House, which is part of Hospice of the Valley (it offers both palliative and end of life care for children).
The race (a 5K, 10K, half marathon, and fun run) always the first weekend in March, this year the 1st of the month, usually prime running weather here in Arizona.
Not this year.
This year, March 1st was literally THE ONE rainy day we have had so far this year.
Coming from the Pacific Northwest, rain isn't quite the anomaly it is for native desert dwellers, but that doesn't mean I was pulling a Gene Kelly about running 6.2 miles in it.
I had thought about not going, really, when I saw just how rainy it was, since lots of rain means panic at the disco on the freeways here, but this was Christie's last race; she was recently diagnosed with arthritis in her knees, and her doctor put the kibosh on all running "forever." So I braved the panicked drivers and the slippery freeways (oil build up makes the freeways extra slick when it begins to rain here, but by the time I headed out, it was a downpour, so the oil was a non-issue) for a wet race.
I had to laugh at how the majority of the runners who actually turned out (it's the smallest turnout I've seen) were huddled under the awning where the check-in tables were, as if Elphaba's blood  were coursing through all of us; us, for I was also amongst the huddle, in a sad attempt to stay dry, like we were going to run the entire race under that awning.

Important Vanity Point 1: this was my first personalized bib.

That my bib number was also divisible by three gave me an obscene amount of comfort. Don't ask; it's just a thing I have.

Thankfully, the rain let up a bit before the start of the 10K, so Christie's dad took the opportunity to snap a pic of us while we were still nice and dry.

Yes, I matched. It just happened. And yes, that's Sheldon around my neck. I'll get to him in a minute.
Christie's bib number was also, divinely, divisible by three.

I was nervous about my shins, but they have been feeling all right, and I've been careful to avoid wearing flip flops in favor of more supportive shoes as much as possible, and I'm fanatical about foam rolling, stretching, and icing these days, so I knew I could survive the 2.33 mile-long hill (Christie clocked it).
But I'll be honest, despite my preparation and care with the shins, I was still nervous. And seeing as the word nervous is a synonym for fearful, I broke my long-standing "no jewelry when running except for your RoadID" and brought Sheldon along to keep me company.
I am the tortoise. Fear is the hare.

I don't know if it was really great chiropractic care along with the maintenance I did throughout January and February to get my shins back into shape or if it was the placebo of knowing my running spirit animal was with me every step of the way, but aside from a few (concerning) foot aches, I felt great.
I was slow conservative in my pace, but I felt great.
So great, in fact, that at the end, I turned to Christie and said, "I'm gonna sprint." And I did. Her knees didn't let her go with me, but she finished right after I did.

Important Vanity Point 2: my name - my full name, not just the name on my bib - was announced as I crossed the finish line.
Of course, this vanity point might have been more glorious had I been one of the faster runners, but it was still exhilarating to hear that as I ran through the chute.

The rain did its work in the first half of the race. By the time we hit mile four (not so important vanity point: this is the first race during which I had to pee so badly I used one of the race porta potties), we were drenched. I mean, it was nice that the rain let up, but the damage had been done, and I discovered after the race that wet arm warmers chafe in a perfect circle. The more you know, kids.

In our post-race snap, you can see the dramatic change in our shirt color from the one before we set out.

Our shirts were so wet that they were also clinging to us in the least flattering manner possible, so that's fun.
Even though it wasn't a cold day, once we stopped running, the chill of wet clothes got our teeth chattering, so we quickly snarfed down the bagels and peanut butter and bananas at the finish line and headed back to our cars. I stopped at the Starbucks that was between the finish line and the car to get one of those caramel flan latte things; I'm sure this was the hunger talking, but it was delicious, even if it tasted nothing like coffee.
A final first: I had brought an entire change of clothes, and once I was back in the car, I turned into a contortionist as I changed right there in the driver's seat, stripping all the way down to have a completely dry foundation. So if you were in the insurance office in whose parking lot I utilized, you're welcome for the free show.
Related: thank goodness for heated seats.

My stats for the race:
Official Time: 1:07:58 (my slowest 10K to date)
Overall Place: 146/174
Women's Rank: 83/106
Age Group: 11/15

If I had known how few there were in our age group, I would have pushed myself a lot harder. Note to self - go balls to the wall during rainy races in Arizona!

I'm not sure what my relationship will be with the Run for Ryan House in the future. While I do love the race, not having Christie there with me will make it less desirable, and since this is also generally the date of the Phoenix marathon, I may want to set my sights on another half next spring instead (as long as my masters classes are chugging along well). We'll have to see when the time comes. In the meantime, I'm hell bent on getting through next January shin splint-free.

Workout Wednesday - Back in Training

For a while, I've been toying with the idea of finding a full marathon to complete.  I never thought I'd actually WANT to do one.  But then again, I never thought I'd want to do a 10K, either, so there's that.
But with the 15-year marker of my dad's passing coming up in 2014, I kind of wanted to honor him in a way that I hadn't before, and I thought that running a marathon, by which I could also raise money for the Colon Cancer Alliance in my efforts to eradicate this cancer that took my dad from me, would be a perfect gesture.
There are just two things wrong with my plan.
The first one is that I don't really like the idea of marking how long it's been since he died.  I began running to honor the memory of his wonderful, albeit too short, life, so it would be almost hypocritical of me to make the jump to the full marathon in memory of when that beautiful life ceased.  And even my dad both joined this world and left it during the same month - October - I think that I'd be better off focusing my efforts elsewhere.  I'm thinking about something in 2017, which would mark his 70th birthday, instead.
The second issue is that I'm starting my masters, and I don't want to commit to any marathon until I'm done with that.  Being a full time parent, wife, teacher, and student will take up enough of my time, I'm sure.
But I haven't had anything on my calendar since Pat's Run in April except the CCA's Undy 5000, which is always on my schedule, and I wanted to push myself further again.  I've already decided to do the Lost Dutchman half marathon in February, even though my masters start date is (hopefully) January.  But that left my fall literally empty.
When I was looking for a 26.2 for next year, I was steered to the Peoria Halloween Marathon, which takes place the weekend right before Halloween.  It's really the only full marathon I was able to find in Arizona in the month of October, so it would have been perfect for my original plan.  But it also works extremely well THIS year for a half marathon, so I'm signing up for it, and training has begun.
I loved using the Marathoning for Mortals book (by John "The Penguin Bingham and Jenny Hadfield) for my first half marathon.   It made the distance completely obtainable, mentally, and I felt extremely well prepared to run the distance on the morning of the race.  But this time, I've opted to use Hal Higdon's Novice 2 plan.  This one was created for the runner who has run a race (or two, maybe) but isn't quite ready to make the jump to the super serious training expected in his Intermediate plan.  Basically, it's perfect for me.  I'd like to do better than my first time, but I also just want to finish and have fun while I train, too.
Of course, being able to follow a calendar is a skill that, apparently, is completely beyond my comprehension.  I thought, ALL of last week, that I was ready to start training this week with Week 1.
Then, all of a sudden, I looked at the calendar and realized I was thinking a week behind.  Technically, I should have started the week of the 4th.
Last week.  Not this week.
So, oops.
I jumped in to the plan on Saturday, running the 4 miles that were on the calendar, and it was fine.  Even though I took a week off running, those miles felt really great.  Since it's still ridiculously hot, I ran two miles with Zooey, and then dropped her off at home before doing two more.  I'll likely be doing something of that nature until it either cools down or forever, depending on her energy levels (I hate to admit that she's almost middle aged).  I was crazy tired that night, but I felt better Sunday, and I'm looking forward to seeing how this plan, which has me running three days in a row during the week, will be on my legs and body.
Even with these two races added in, I'm pretty sure I won't meet my mileage goal for this year, but I'm OK with that.  Considering that the first four months of this year, which are prime running weather months here in Arizona, I was sidelined by plenty of injury and illness, I'm going to plan on calling 2013 a win in the mileage column anyway.
I'm really looking forward to hitting longer runs soon, even if I have to leave Zooey at home for them (she didn't like being left home, by the way - she was barking at me as I left as if to say, "Hey! You forgot me!"), and now that I know what I'm capable of for the half marathon, I'm excited at the prospect of working on my pacing, etc., so help me become a better runner.  Hopefully I'll see everything come to fruition at the finish line.

Less is So Much More

My foot has been feeling better, so I decided to give cabin fever the finger and try a few miles out and back on Wednesday.  To my relief, the two miles were completely pain-free.  I'm hoping to be really back in the swing of things by Pat's Run in a few weeks.  If the doctor says I'm good to go on Monday, I'll be adding the trails back in to the mix next weekend.
I signed the entire family up for Pat's Run this year.  The Husband ran it with me last year (and to my dismay, ran it faster than I did with little to no training), but HRH went to the zoo with my mother-in-law.  This time, she's signed up for the kids' .42 mile run.  We're currently debating who's going to run the 4.2 miler and who will stay back with her.  I'd insist on being the one to run the longer distance (I was the one who signed us up, after all), but my foot is definitely a part of the conversation right now.
HRH is excited, to say the least, at the idea of going to a race with Mommy.  Even though she knows I come back from runs smelling like a goat a wilted rose, she wants to get out there with me.
So, the other night, we put on our gear, slipped the Halti on Zooey, and headed out for a run around the neighborhood.

It might not have been easy running with a 4YO
and an excited coonhound, but it was worth it!

At first, I figured we'd just run a loop - down to the last street in the neighborhood, around and back, but HRH wanted to keep going, so we made our way back by zig-zagging up the streets, saying hello to anyone passing by and taking frequent water breaks in order to stay properly hydrated.

In the end, we ran 1.12 miles, and by we, I mean just that - we both did.  HRH never stopped to walk or asked to go home before we actually got home.  And she had that big grin on her face the entire time.  I can't deny that I had a big, proud mama grin myself; this was the best, most fun, happiest mile I've ever run.

Until she went to bed, HRH kept commenting on our run: "That was totally fun, Mommy!" and "I liked going on a run with you!"  And five minutes after I put her to bed, she was out like a light.

And the next day, she asked if we could go again.

I'm not planning on taking HRH for a seven-mile trail run any time soon, but I certainly am going to start adding in more of these evening, 14-minute-mile jaunts through our neighborhood and perhaps at the park down the street.

Watch out, Boston 2030 - there's a qualifier coming your way!