10 Running Questions

My friend (and the only boy who willingly chases me, albeit only in the water) Jeremy tagged me in this to answer the following questions.  So, here goes:

1. Best Run Ever

There are a few I can think of. But, the one I'll go with happened in January 2011.  Yes, I remember.  Daily Mile also helps me remember dates when I look up my logged runs.  I was planning on doing my running path, out in a prairie where I had be trying  to get my run on.  It's a 5.5 mile loop.  It took me awhile to run this entire thing without stopping.  Without walking.   I had not done it in awhile after the cold and snow kicked in.  I was trying to get this in for the first time in awhile. Start to finish.  No walking.  Run the hills.

It was a crisp cold winter day.  I texted my college roommate who lives 15 minutes away, and who also just recently started running.    I asked her if she was going out for a run.  She said she had just gotten her hair done, so no.  She was being snarky.  I gave her a hard time.  She said, "Meh, I'll just double whatever you do today tomorrow."  We giggled.

But, funny thing happened.  I felt great. I felt strong.  Fierce.  I ran my loop. The ENTIRE loop.  And, for some reason I did NOT go back to my car.  I kept going.  On another loop.  I always like a challenge.  Hee, hee. hee.  Really, Lisa, DOUBLE what I do today?  Huh.  Well, 11 miles baby!  I ran 11 miles.  Smoke on that Lisa. 

You have to understand, I had only done an 11 mile run twice before.  In my first and second half marathons.  Due to injuries I had never done an 11 mile  training run.  Ahhh, but, I had some great tunes in my ears, cool weather in my face, a challenge in front of me, and I felt strong.  I was SO proud of this run.

Lisa never ran the next day.  22 miles is scary after my awesomeness.  I understand.  

2. Three words that describe my running
Painful, Freeing, Necessary


3. My Go-to running outfit is
Seksi spandex shorts, fitted tank, headband, perfect ponytail swoosh, Brooks Glycerin 10

4. Quirky habit while running

I text and run.  Not randomness.  But, sometimes I need encouragement to get my run on.  Especially when I'm not feeling it.  I take inspiration from wherever I can.  I'm lucky to have such a great group of running friends who will say encouraging things to keep me going.  Even better yet, they say inappropriate things to make me giggle.  I think that works even better.  ;)

5. Morning, midday, evening.

Yes, please.  Oh, right, running.  Evening.  No contest.  I am NOT a morning person.  I stay up WAY too late for that.  I like running in the dark anyway.  Ninja runner.

6. I won't run outside if it's

Pouring ran while trail running down a mountain?  Nope, I'll do that. 

Run in 22 inches of fresh snow.  In shorts?  Nope, I'll do that.

Run with tornado sirens going off?  Nope, done that.  Twice. 

Hot and humid?  We have a winner ladies and gentlemen.  I have.  While training for 2011 Chicago Marathon (failed attempt).  It was what I had to work with to get my training in.  However, humidity is my kryptonite.  It brings me down.  Hard.  I have exercise induced asthma and when humidity rolls in I literally cannot breath.  I overheat.  It's horrible.

7. Worst injury and how I got over it
Really?  Where do I start?  I'm not even sure what the worst one was.  Tibia stress fracture fall of 2011 was the beginning of the downfall with my leg.  Then a calf strain in late January. (the most painful of the injuries). Now foot pain.  (still not sure what it is).  Then I always have the UBHA (sciatic pain) that just won't go away.

I'm not over it.  God, when will I ever get over it?

8. I felt most like a badass runner when

Three weeks of partying and doing physical property work (painting, cleaning, yard work)  around the St. Maarten place. Two days before I leave I sign up for a 5k with my St. Maarten friend.  When I get to registration I find out it's a 10k.  Oh dear.  I was doing little 3 mile runs here and there throughout the trip.  But, I had not run more than that in a very long time.  

It was a hot sunny Caribbean day.  I thought I was going to die.  I jockeyed back and forth with a few women throughout the race.  MUCH younger women than me.  I was DYING by the end.  I had very little left in the tank at the finish.  But, 10k I did (ooozing Heineken out of my pores).  

One of the young women I had passed came up post race to tell me it was fun pushing each other.  Then she also asked me if I had seen my legs.  What?  What's happened to my legs?!?!?  She laughed.  "No, when you run the muscles in your legs are sick" Ha. Why.... thank you very much younger and cuter woman than me.  These legs just kicked your ass.  

To top it off I got first place in my division.  Mind you, this is NOT the Chicago Marathon.  But, I don't care.  I got bling and rewarded myself with some beachside warm French croissants and ice cold beer. 

9. My next race is

God, I wish I could tell you that.  I have no idea.  I'm not running.  My body is surely nowhere ready to even think about that.  However, I would really like to get to the Turkey Trot 5k this year on Thanksgiving morning.  I ran it two years ago with my then 9 year old niece.  I was injured last year and had to watch her and the rest of my family run without me.  I really want to run it with her again. More importantly she wants to run it with me. 

After that if I can stay/be healthy I would like to possibly do the Fucking Freezing Half Marathon in January. My ideal running conditions.

Do I even look past that?

10. Potential Running Goals for 2013 
Swimming (had to throw that in) To do an open water swim race. To not die doing so.

To run a marathon.  Hell, just get to the start would be nice.

To have someone cheer for ME.

To. Not. Be. Injured. Dammit.

Run happy.

Release Me

I sit here, late at night, not running.  Again. I am looking through some of my running stats from one year ago.  Wow, have times changed.  I don't even know who that person was one year ago. 

I miss her. 

I wish I appreciated more what I was doing then.  I had yet to start my Chicago Marathon training.  So, I still was running free.  I didn't even know it  then. No training schedule.  No injuries.  Just running.  When I wanted.  For how far I wanted.  Getting out there and releasing everything. 

It was fun.  It was fast.  It was freeing. 

It was me.

I had no idea I was running so fast.  Okay, I know compared to many of you, this was slow.  But, wow, right now, the thought of doing these paces is really unfathomable to me.  I don't mean soon,  I mean ever. Ever again. 

If I  close my eyes hard enough, I actually can remember these runs.  Running through Wrigley Field, barely anything left in me.  Cold, pouring ran. Running through the huge puddles over the finish line.  To a race PR.  Standing there in amazement.  At what I just did. By myself.  Letting the rain pour down on me, instead of seeking shelter.  

I was happy. 

I remember.

These are my five fastest runs.  Kind of fun to see some of your comments.  Some of you I didn't really know all that well.  And, now know very well.  Thanks for being with me when times were good.  And, thanks for sticking with me when it's not so good. 

5. Hot Thunder

4. Double Dipping

3. Race to Wrigley 5k (PR)


2. A new shiny belt

1. High Noon

Maybe if I close my eyes hard enough.  And dream.  I can run fast and free again.

I'd like that.

I am myself
Like you somehow
I'll ride the wave
Where it takes me
I'll hold the pain
Release me

GOAL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yesterday.  One of those ones you hope you never have again.  Ever. I'm trying to think how I can make the next day better. Or the next day.  Or maybe a day in two weeks.  So... I'm thinking forward.  Hoping.  Forward.

Last year as the New Year turned I had resolutions.  A bit bizarre perhaps.  But, something to work on.   Goals to obtain.  Get to getting on.  For me.  I was in full force at the start of the year.  But, unfortunately as life, and my injury, got in the way, so did my desire to work on me.  

I just wandered into 2012.  No, big excitement.  No energy for something to look forward to.  Nothing. It just came.  I was doing laundry. It came while I was doing laundry.     

In 2011 I ran 513 miles, rode 542 miles, and swam 21 miles.  Before my body sadly gave out on me.  Compared to some of you this is nothing.  But, for me it's the most I've done, well as an old fart anyway.   I hope I can get better and improve upon that, and me, in 2012.   And, please, oh please.... stay injury free.

I need to have something to get me moving.  Each day.  Mind, body, spirit.  Life.  I need goals.  At this point my only goal is to get to tomorrow.  I need more than that. I need to be more than that.  I need to get out of this fucking boot. I need someone to scream at me to move.  With my life. 

I could use this once in awhile. 

I really want to maybe see if I can get through a triathlon this year.  Not sure if that's in me.  But, I have the urge to see if I can.  After seeing the SheRox Naperville one last summer (and stalking Ashleigh ) I kind of got the urge.  But, perhaps do it as a relay as Sara (bike) , Lisa. (run), and I (swim) had discussed.  We might be a bit whacky in our thoughts.  But..... we think we could possibly place... and actually win it.  I know, we are crazy for thinking it.  But, wouldn't that be fun?  I could use a bit of being awesome.   Then perhaps a triathlon on my own?  Perhaps.

As far as running.  I have some spring races in mind.  Not sure what really.  I have had some invites to do some I haven't done before and would like to run those. I'm not sure if the invitations actually still stand.  But, I'm always up for meeting up for people and trying a race.  Chicago Shamrock Shuffle 8k   is always fun and I'll be back again. Great large race.  Fun post party. From what I remember anyway.  I've always wanted to do the Soldier Field 10 Mile .  However, I was always just weeks back from a three week drinking vacation and never in any shape to do this.  This year I would like to be.  Chicago Rock n Roll Half Marathon has been moved (again) to July 22nd.  Not sure how I feel about a half in July in Chicago.  But... I've done the last three and it seems right to continue.   I'll probably bail on Chicago Hot Chocolate  this year.  I've got the kewl jacket.  Two actually now. The race seems just too crowded with walkers no matter what they do to keep this race flowing.  Maybe I'll do a winter one instead.  After all.... me running in snow?  Come on.  It just seems right. 

Then the biggie,Chicago Marathon. It's what I want.  More than anything.  Just once.  Pretty please.  I still don't know if a marathon is within my abilities.  But, I have to at least try. No, not try.  DO.

I also want to do some running with my ten year old niece.  She did her first triathlon last year Chicago Kid Triathlon with absolutely no running training.  I'd like to help her get her feet moving a bit.  If so, I think she has the ability to be a fantastic triathlete.  She's already a very strong swimmer (proud auntie). She just needs to work on the run and bike a bit.  I look forward to watching her do this really fun race once again.  I had such a blast cheering her on.  Who knew while I was barefoot hobbling all over that course in terrible pain that I was already one week into a stress fracture?  Huh. 

I have also been invited to crew for an ultra.  Or at least sit back and drink beers while they run. Or play in a lake.  Or maybe do my own long marathon training run that day.  Or sun myself in my bikini that I'll once again be wearing because I'll be running sick miles once again (for me anyway) and lose all this damn boot weight that's dragging me down mentally and physically. Or maybe actually crew.  Meh, doesn't matter.  I'll be there no matter what.  Doing whatever is needed of me.  But, having fun.  This I know for sure. 

I'll continue to nurture the loving friendships I have garnered with my running friends.  I feel a bit lost right now with some of them.  Some, thankfully, are stronger than ever.  Some have had their ebbs and flows.  I hope to have back any that I have lost and deepen those just in the budding stages. And, no matter what, appreciate every single person that helps little ole me along my little running (biking? swimming?) journey.

Do cartwheels.  Lots of cartwheels. 

Still in the boot.  Still can't run.  However, I did swim 1.5+ miles last night. It was surely a night I would have gone for a run.  A therapy run.  But, I couldn't.  So, I finally found a way to swim.  I needed it.  Badly.   It wasn't particularly pretty.  But, it's a start towards my goals.  I hope.

So, I work on me.  I keep forgetting about me. I keep promising it'll be about me.  But, it just never seems to be.  I always seem to get lost.  Even though I'm always there.  People seem to still forget about me.   So, 2012.  I will fly.  On the road.  In the water.  In me. For me. 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Fat in a Box

I ran on Saturday.  After ten weeks of no running, I ran.  I raced the Chicago Hot Chocolate 5k.  I wasn't really sure I was actually going to run at all. The shin had been quiet for a few days, but it acted up  there the days before the race.  I was worried about running. But, the doctor did  tell me to do a light run before today's appointment.  So, I did.  I ran a 5K.  My legs ran.  My mind ran.  My heart ran.

I cannot even begin to tell you how awesome it felt.  Even though I was in a lot of pain, I was so happy.  To be on the run again.  Running from what?  Running to what?  I still don't know. But, running.

Today I went in for my ortho appointment.  I had more xrays done on my shin.  This time also on my spine and hip (aka, AK area for those in the know) to see about dics problems in my back that possibly could be causing my UBHA pain. Thankfully, the spine and hip looked good. 

The results are that I will continue to stay on Injured Reserve for awhile longer.  Apparently, the good old ortho doctor is not so sure it's a stress fracture after all.  He thinks it's taking WAY too long to heal. I agree.  So, his thoughts are now that it perhaps may be some type of tumor causing pain on my shin. Oh, yes, goodie.  He said tumor.  Before anybody freaks out, I am not freaked out.  Well, not yet anyway.  More tests to follow at 5 am Friday and then we go from there.  I'm pretty confident it's still a stubborn stress fracture.

I'm more freaked out that I still cannot run.  Ten weeks of no running is hard.  Hard on the soul that's for sure.  I need the run.  For me.  For my sanity.  For my body.

Running was always mental therapy for me.  Absolutely.  But, along the way of that journey my body kind of followed suit.  As I ran not only did I feel better mentally, but physically as well.  My body started to change.  Honestly, I didn't even notice it.  Not until people started making comments to me. Strangers even.  Telling me that I looked great.  It was weird.  Very odd in fact.  I wasn't used to this.  Remember? I used to be invisible.

It was hard for me to come to terms with the change in my body.  Honestly, I never really thought about how I looked.  I mean I thought about how I looked. But, I didn't see myself as a fat person.  I'm tall.  I'm used to people telling me I'm big.  But, I guess I didn't realize they were also referring to my size in general.  Honestly, I think I hid it pretty well.  Well, at least I thought I did.

Until I lost weight.  From running.  Sixty five pounds of running my ass (literally) off.  The weight was on for a reason.  To protect me.  It kept me safe.  (a whole other blog that may never be written) I was scared to lose that security. I didn't know that then.  I know it now. 

But, oddly, I felt good.  Felt good about myelf.  For the first time in a VERY long time.  The New Andrea.  It was nice.  People who know me would say I was always confident person.  But, it was a lie.  I was not.  But, I began to feel it more now.  Own it more.

People made comments.  I still get them.  The ones I get often are from people who haven't seen me in awhile, a year or so.  It's usually a stare, then, "Oh my God, you lost a ton of weight."  Of course all I hear is, "Holy shit you were a big fat pig"   Its embarrasses me.  Of the person I used to be. 

 But, then I see my friend Claire.  Who who owns her weight loss journey  like nobody's business.  When we ran into each other at the 2011 Chicago Rock n Roll Half Marathon medal engraving  our lives collided.  We had met earlier this summer at Chicago DoLife 5k .  When we met this second time we couldn't talk enough about running, social media, our running friends and how our lives had changed drastically through it all. She lost weight but still saw the fat girl of old.  I stood there before a beautiful woman full of confidence but not yet owning her beauty. I couldn't tell her enough to jump out of that box and own it.  All of it. Be proud of it.  Be the New Claire.

After our conversation, Claire become an unofficial #DoEpicShit  girl.  She earned it.  For sure.  I'm amazed each and every time I see her rock yet another race PR.  I had the pleasure of cheering her on for the  Chicago Half Marathon She looks phenominal and is now training for her first marathon.  One hundred and twenty five pounds and one year ago a different woman.  Now, a women possessed.  A beautiful strong women.

So when people tell me I look great I think of Claire. I still just stare at them.  I'm horrible with compliments  I don't get them often.  When I do, I don't know what to say.  I have to learn to accept them. I'm just so used to deflecting them.  Because I am not worthy.  Don't feel worthy of them.

I'm getting better though.  When they ask me how I did it, I tell them I run.  I didn't try to lose weight.  I ran for my sanity.  The weight was a by-product of that.  I get excited and try to get the person to run too.  I encourage them to sign up for a 5k.  I want them on my party train.  Choo-Choo!

Problem is this train is stuck in the station.  Not only am I mentally shot not being able to run,   I'm freaked out that I will go back to the old me.  The sad me.  The fat me.  The unworthy me.

I started 2011 with resolutions.  They were interesting ones to say the least.  But, the goal was to get me out of my box.  To stop living the life of the old me. Needless to say I skydived out of my box right out of the gate.  It felt good.  It was fun.  I was happy.

But, now here I sit.  Not running.  Still. 

I'm scared I'm going to crawl back in that box if I can't run.

 It's dark in there.

 It's lonely in there.

 I do not want to go there again.

I Run Alone

I don't need your help.  I'm not weak.  I can pick up that package.  Who cares that I'm wearing heals.  Excuse me, but I can lift it.  Let me be. I don't need you to help me with my luggage.  I'm fine, thank you very much.  See that chainsaw I have in my hand?  I'm chopping down a tree. Leave me alone.  Paint that entire beach wall?  Yeah, so what? Three coats, both sides, in the hot sun.  By myself.  You couldn't hang.  Don't even try. 

You want to help?  If you are a doode, no matter a stranger or a friend, you can hold the door for me. That would be nice.  I would like that.  However, other than that. I don't need your help.  

Because, I run alone

When I need to run. I run.  I don't meet up with groups of runners.  I don't make running dates.  I don't have running meet ups.  I just figure out when in my life I have time and have run out of excuses why I can't.  Then I run.

I like to run alone because it my time to clear my mind.  If you recall, running for me was a way to escape the stress and overwhelming drama as family members were dying.  This was a time for people to not depend on me.  To not need me.  For me to be me. 

I don't typically like to run with others.  Not that I hate it.  But, I like to go at my pace.  I worry that I'm too slow for some and too fast for others.  I need to go at my speed.  Whatever that is on any given day. It's my time to talk to myself.  To have discussions with me. 

However, I'm learning to accept people into my run.  

In February of this year Lisa and I signed up for the Chicago Marathon together. I had been running pretty consistently.  Nothing major as far as mileage.  Just doing my usual 5.5 mile trail loop.  Lisa had not run in many months.  She needed to start to get her run on again. So she met up with me for her first run.  I was worried about this run. Would I be too slow.  Would I be too fast.  Would we not be compatible running together?   It turns out it was great.  We both have long legs so our strides were pretty spot on.  After many months of no running she was right there with me. (Bitch)  I absolutely despise talking on a run.  But, we never shut up.  We talked about work.  Furniture.  Men.  The process in which we shave our legs. Running.  Running clothes. Cute shoes. Not wanting to shit our pants while running. We laughed a lot.  It was fun. 

We continued to meet for runs here and there as often as we could.  However, eventually, Lisa was back in her running shape. She's a runner.  She's speedy. I'm not.  Sadly, eventually, I had to start insisting that we could no longer run together.  She needed to do this on her terms.  Not mine. After loving being a lone runner, I was starting to think I was liking this partner running.  But, sadly it was over. 

I signed up for 2011 Chicago Rock n Roll Half Marathon . I was doing this alone.  At the time I knew nobody else running it.  I ran it twice before.  I would run it again. It didn't really matter to me if anybody else was running it.  I always race alone.  If people ask me to sign up for races with them my answer usually is, "Sure, but I won't run with you.  I run alone".  As time went by this lone race for me slowly became a race of many friends.  I was excited for them all to come.  I had Daily Mile friends ( Logan & Sara ) whom I had never met coming in.  I had an old college friend, Erin, coming in.  I had a long time friend, Robert-Jan,  from St. Maarten coming in. I had Lisa.  No longer was this going to be a lone race. 

Nobody knew each other.  As someone told me later I was the spoke in the wheel that brought us all together.  We all met.  We all got along really well.  It was awesome.  On race morning we all headed to the start area. 

Erin, me, Logan, Robert-Jan

In the past 40,000 runners takes awhile to get across the start line.  So, with that in mind we decided to take our time to get in our corrals. Logan was starting behind the Kenyans, so he bolted immediately, like as in I have no idea where he went, after this picture. Erin, RJ, & I hit gear check, the bathrooms, listened to the national anthem, then slowly walked towards our corrals.  Only to find them, well, gone. Huh? The start was WAY faster than anticipated.  We saw corrals #20 - #30 lined up around the corner, about ready to go.  But, for the three of us, our corrals were long gone.  None of us were the same corral.  But, we looked at each other, and said, "I guess we are starting", gave each other hugs, wished each other luck,  pressed our Garmins, and started to run.  

I had no intention of running with them for the entire race. I figured we would jog a bit to start and then spread out.  After all, I run alone.  Erin was with us for a bit.  But, then she got lost in the crowd.  We heard a few Wheee! Wheee! 's  and she was gone.  RJ and I continued to run together. We were going at a good pace together.  But, I was just waiting for us to split up at some point. 

 But, we continued on our pace together. To the 6 mile mark.  We both saw the clock time as we crossed and looked at each other.  I said, "That was fast" He said, "I know, that's my fastest ever".  I replied, "We need to slow down."  He answered, "No, lets keep going".  I hated him.

Robert-Jan and me hand in hand over the finish

I'm tall. But, RJ's VERY tall. I was having  hard time keeping up.  My piriformis injury was hurting.  I made sure to get water at every station.  RJ did not.  So, each time I would have to run and catch up to him after drinking.  Thankfully, he was easy to spot.  Thankfully, he slowed down a bit to wait for me.  When I was hurting, he reminded me that I could do it.  When he started cramping at mile 11 or so, I reminded him he could do it.  When he pulled up just before the finish line I told him to suck it up and get his ass to the finish.  I was in pain too.  We could do this. He hopped up.  We ran.  To the finish.  Just as we got to the finish he grabbed my hand.  We crossed together. 

We ran start to finish together.  For the first time I did not race alone. And, it was ok.  It was better than ok.  It was great.  I think there were a few times I would have quit on myself.  Gone slower.  Maybe not pushed as hard.  But, I had RJ to keep up with.  I had RJ to bring to the finish at the end when he was hurting. 

This weekend I had something hit me in the gut. Weird.  Random.  Out of the blue.  But, it socked me to the core.  So much so it made me vomit.  I went out for a long ride (I'm still injured and can't run) to sort it out.  It wasn't working.  Logan was texting me to make sure I was ok. I wasn't.  I was still shaking.  I was still vomiting.  I would ride a few miles. Read something he wrote.  Write back. Think about what he said.  Ride some more.  Read some more.  Write some more.  Ride some more. Until it got better.  Until I could just ride.  At around mile 26 I was lost.  Of course I was. How appropriate.  I was in the woods.  I had no idea where I was or how I was going to get out.  It was starting to get dark. Honestly, I felt like sitting down and quitting. But, I knew another text would come in asking where on my ride I was.  I couldn't say I was under a tree.  So, I took a deep breath and figured out how to get the hell out of there. 

41 miles later I was okay. However, I wouldn't have been if I was riding alone.  But, I wasn't riding alone.

I'm learning how to not run alone.  It's hard for me.  I like the alone part.  I like the solitude.  However, I also need people by my side too.  I can't keep insisting that I don't.  

Out of the bleachers

For years I was only a spectator.  A cheerleader.  There for everybody else.  Cheering for everybody else.  Whether for life's great gifts of happiness and joy or through life's struggles.  I was always there. In recent years I was there as family members were dying.  I stopped my life to help keep their lives going.  I have no regrets about this.  I wouldn't trade it in for anything.  Ever. 

But, I was also there for friends.  As they struggled with their own demons.  Depression.  Alcoholism. Bad marriages.  I listened.  I cared. I supported.  I was the cheerleader. I drove them to rehab.  I helped cover their lies.  I picked them up in the middle of the night when they needed to leave a bad situation.  I listened to stories about how their lives were falling apart.  I helped pick them up when life knocked them to their knees.  And, worse.  Then they would fall again.   I would pick them up again.  They would fall again. Eventually, I stopped picking them up.  I had to walk away.  I had to walk away because somewhere while trying to save others I lost myself. 

You see, along the way of my semi-professional cheerleading gig I disappeared.   I became invisible.  Invisible to the very same people I was cheering for.  In fact, to even those not needing my services necessarily.  Life went by.  I let life go by.  My friends didn't seem to notice or care.   I would be a room with them and somehow I would not be included in conversation.  They would ask how I was but never listen long enough for me to answer. Often I could be in a room with them and they would barely notice I was there.  Sometimes I would leave the room for periods at a time and do something else.  I don't think they flinched.  

How could I become so invisible?  I'm 5'10" (6'1"+  in my pretty heels).  I'm kind of hard to miss.  Yet, people didn't see me.  Life didn't see me any longer.  

Then I started to run.  I ran more.  I ran longer.  I ran in the dark.  I ran on the prairies.  I ran in the woods.  I always ran alone.  Yet, somehow I started to become less invisible.  People started to see me.  I didn't know these people.  They were cyclists I passed on the trail who waved and smiled.  They were runners who I met up with at a light who asked me how far I was running that day.  It was the uber runner guy at my running store who fitted me for new shoes for an hour while talking about my running journey.  About my upcoming races.  About me.   The more I ran the less invisible I became.  Suddenly, people started to notice me.  Strangers who I never knew started talking to me about how different I looked.  I didn't ever remember these people to begin with.  Yet, they somehow remembered me. I guess I wasn't as invisible as I thought before.  Perhaps just to certain people. I was being seen. I just wasn't being noticed. 

Once I started to run I felt better about myself.  I started not needing to save other people.  This was hard for me because I always want to be the one to help others.  To cheer them.  To heal them.  I think it was a way for me to ignore saving myself.  But, unbeknownst to me, I was back to being a cheerleader.  This time, though, it was for me.   I signed up for races.  I ran them alone.  I had nobody cheering me for my life.  Ironic, it was.  All those times I was there for everybody else. There were never there for me.  Races were no different.  But, it was ok.  It was really ok.  It was ok because I had other people who seemed to care about me.  Sure, they were strangers.  However, they asked about me.  They asked about running.  They wanted to truly know how I was doing.  They didn't settle for my standard "I'm fine" answer.  They wanted to know how I was really feeling.  How my running was going.  When my next race was.  How LIFE was. More importantly how MY LIFE was. 

Oddly enough, some of the people I tried to save and had to walk away from have re-entered my life recently.  They have finally saved themselves.  They are back for redemption. To thank me. To tell me that when everyone else gave up on them that I never did.  That I was the only one to stay when others walked away.   That's good to hear.  Even better to hear is them ask about me.  To listen to me.  To hear me. To notice me. 

I'll always be a cheerleader.  I'll always be the one screaming my lungs out for you to succeed.  For you to do your best. For you to stop struggling and start fighting.  For you to never give up.  Because I will never give up on you. Ever.  Even when you give up on yourself.  Even if you give up on me. 


However, excuse me if I do walk away from time to time and cheer for myself once in awhile.  I'm worth it too.  


Finally.

After all, life is NOT a spectator sport.  And, it's about time for me to join the race. 

Fall seven times, stand up eight.

One year ago, on a Saturday night I made a decision.  To watch the  2010 Chicago Marathon in person the next morning. In all these years I had never seen it live.  Since I was running half marathons at this point I wanted to see what this marathon thing was all about.  I had made no plans for race day.  So, late Saturday I called my friend, Greg.  Greg is not a a runner.  He is not an athlete. He, is however, a good friend. Up until recently, he was the ONLY person to have come to watch me race.  Ever. For that, I'm forever grateful to him. I never had family or friends waiting for me at races. But, Greg waited for me.  Was happy for me.  Was there to congratulate me. Hug me.  Last year at my half marathon I told him to go home, go back to bed, after the start.  Imagine my surprise when hitting the turn at mile 6, there was Greg screaming my name. I can't tell you how good that made me feel.  To have MY name called.  For ME.  It carried me to the finish. No doubt

So, I called Greg.  Asked if he wanted to meet me at 6:30 the next morning for the race.  He said sure.  He knew I wanted to go.  He knew it was important to me.  He knew he had to go.  

It was a gorgeous, sunny, warm day.  A spectacular fall day.  However, a bit warm for marathon running.  Greg and I positioned ourselves within the Loop.  We zig zagged through the streets to catch about 3 sections of the race.  I've been in some large Chicago Races (Chicago Rock n Roll Half Marathon , Shamrock Shuffle, Hot Chocolate 15k/5k ) with between 30,000 and 40,000 runners.  But, I had never watched a race with this many runners.  As the runners headed down State Street I was in awe at the number of runners.  All the way up and down the street. Packed solid the entire width of the street.  Running. 

I couldn't do anything but stare at first. I couldn't even cheer.  I was amazed.  Humbled. Proud.  I realized that I saw a little bit of myself in their faces.  The old, the young, the fast, the slow, the fit, the fat. They were all me. Running.  A friggin' marathon.  I turned to look at Greg.  Tears streaming down my face.  He looked at me, smiled, and said, "You are going to run this thing next year aren't you?"  I shook my head and said, "No way."  Then I laughed.  Looked at him again, smiled,  and said, "I think I am"

We screamed our lungs out for these strangers.  People we didn't know.  But, faces I recognized.  A neighbor.  The woman working at Target.  The non-athlete all his life now finding his mojo.  A friend's college aged daughter.  That guy in the bar.  The father of 5.  The breast cancer survivor. The veteran. The recovering alcoholic. The woman who left her husband but found her life.  That guy who was tired of living a 300 pound non existence and now was flying past me at 180 pounds. I didn't know anybody running by me.  But, they were SOMEBODY.  They had a story.  I didn't know it.  But, I DID know that part of their story was that they were running the god damn Chicago Marathon!

Greg and I hit Mile 14. Runners were looking hot.  It was indeed hot out by then.  I was feeling for them.  But, on they ran.  They made me proud.  We then hit mile 25.  The look on the runners faces was incredible.  They knew they were SO close.  They could feel it.  They could taste it. It was theirs.  We finally ended up in the stands at the finish. I could barely keep my stomach under control.  Watching all these people come in to the final feet towards the finish line was so touching.  I wasn't running it.  I didn't know anybody.  But, I still felt an overwhelming sense of pride for these people. 

We cheered them all in.  High fived them.  Yelled out the name on their singlet.  Told them they were awesome. Then, all of a sudden, there coming right at me, is someone I knew.  Running.  Toward the finish line!  Andi, a friend from St. Maarten, with the flag of his country St. Maarten (which became an official country on this marathon day!) on the front of his tee shirt.  I had NO idea he was running the marathon.  Of the thousands and thousands of runners this day.  I saw Andi cross the finish! It was great!

We continued to watch runners finish. Some came in strong.  Most were smiling. However, some came is struggling to make it those final feet.  One man, in his 60's, was more than struggling.  He was losing it.  His legs.  His body.  He collapsed right in front of us.  The crowd gasped.  Greg and I started to cry.  This guy was SO close to the finish.  Mere feet. A race official came up, helped him up without assisting him.  The man started to run. We all cheered.  Loud.  He went a few more feet and collapsed again.  Runner after runner ran past him.  They were finishing their race.  They were completing their dream.  As they ran by him.  One woman in her 30's ran past him.  Fifteen feet past him.  Then stopped.  Turned around.  Came back.  Picked this man off the ground.  Put his arms around her slight shoulders and then CARRIED him over the finish line.  This woman sacrificed her time to help him finish.  Truly inspiring.  

I was in awe of his courage to not give up.  I was in awe of her act of generosity.  SHE was the true winner of this marathon in my eyes.  I was crying. THIS is moment  when I was SURE I would sign up to run the 2011 Chicago Marathon. Because of this man. Because of this woman. 

Four months later I sat on the computer at midnight.  Refreshing my screen for one and a half hours to get my  registration for the 2011 Chicago Marathon complete.  Once it went through I was excited more than I can explain.  However, I was also scared more than I've ever been in my entire life.  

I had no idea how scary this journey would be.  It was only the beginning. 

Courage to Start

The Miracle isn't that I finished.  The miracle is that I had the 

courage to start. 

 ~ John Bingham

This is one of my favorite quotes.  It's been my Facebook favorite quote for years.  As I always say, "The hardest part of the run is walking out the door".   So, how do you start?  That's the tough part. 

Run.  How did I start The Run? 

I was NEVER a runner. I was a swimmer.  For almost all my life.  Wasn't all that great.  But, wasn't all that bad.   I just picked it back up this summer. After MANY years away.  It felt good to be back. I felt at home.  

But, a runner? Pfff. That's silly. Freshman year in college my friends and I would run (jog) here and there to try to keep off the Freshman 15. It worked (thank God). Until I turned 21 and life became, well, more beer friendly.  After college I would run a mile here or there and think I was "running". Riiiiiight. It wasn't until MANY years later (3 years ago) that a co-worker came into work wearing a medal. I asked her what it was. She said it was from a half marathon she ran the day before. Well, I wanted one. So, she said, "come run the Chicago Rock n Roll Half Marathon in 3 months" Hell, I can run two miles, how hard would 13.1 be?  So, I half-assed trained (not) with a goal of just finishing. Finish I did. Not pretty. But, I did it. I was proud of myself. I saw possibility.

So, I continued the run. Kind of. Kept it light. Nothing much. But, I ran. Until last year. When my kick ass rockin' 102.5 year old grandma got sick (she lived on her own but I took care of her needs). Really sick. She was dying. She was supposed to live forever. Anybody who knew me knew this. Believed this. She didn't see the Cubs win the World Series. She surely had a few more years in her. But, sadly she didn't. After being a vibrant living person, she spent 3 long months in and out of the hospital and nursing home. It was hard for me to fathom this was the end. I worked all day, spent my evenings with her. Then came home at 9, 10, 11 pm and ran. And ran. And ran. Ran from the stress. Ran to be alone, away from everybody depending on ME. Ran. I ran further. I ran faster. With everything going on, when I was on the run I felt great. The world felt great. Life was great. All that was not true. But, in those moments they were.

And, then she died. I crumbled. She was the person that loved me most in the world. And, then she was gone. Forever. The thought of life without her was overwhelming. I didn't think I could ever run again. But, I had 3 weeks until my 2nd Chicago RnR Half Marathon. I HAD to do it. With an angel on my back I ran. I crossed that finish 30 minutes faster than my first. My eyes filled with tears. Of joy. Because I KNEW grandma got me over that line.

So, I continued to run. I went even further. And faster. I found friends that encouraged me. Texted me before runs. Messaged me after with congrats. Made me music mixes to get me going. I felt encouraged. I felt strong. I felt loved again. Somehow along the way 65lbs fell off. I felt better about myself. Hated life less. Liked me more.

Then I found Daily Mile . And the people of Daily Mile. My life hasn't been the same since. :D

So, yeah...... that's my running story. To be con't..............

Bra Burning

This whole ruling on women marathon world records becoming invalidated if the women run in a mixed race has got me steamed. IAAF gives women's marathoners the middle finger

I just don't get it.  So, the men can be paced by men and it's ok.  But, if the women are paced by men it's not ok.  Listen, I don't care if Paula Radcliffe is paced by flying monkeys.  As long they don't fly her through the race and over the finish line she's getting there with her own damn legs.  Her legs.  Her race.  Her time.  Her record.

Ugh, really?  We will go back to separate races for men and women?  Really?  We are going backwards are we?  Ah, progress.

I think I shall grab my girdle, walk five steps behind men, dragging our cattle.  To go do the laundry.  While pregnant.

God, I feel like taking off my bra and going for a long run.

Oh, wait, I can't run.  That's right.  Sucks for me.

Shop Local

My friend Mike asked the question on his blog, "Do you have a favorite local running store" Per usual I couldn't just answer, "yes". 


I most certainly shop at my local running store: Naperville Running Company Naperville Running Company It's a small store (newly moved 2 doors down and now all swanky and new). But, the service there is top notch. They were named 2009 Running Specialty Store of the Year  Well deserved too. Each time I have gone in for new running shoes it's at least an hour of time, if not more. They watch me walk, they select shoes, I try on shoes. I run around the track in the store. I try on more shoes. The salesperson talks to me. About running. My running. We talk about races. What races I've done and am doing. What races they are doing. Each time I feel like I have a new friend.

Seriously. They are great runners. I am not. Most are runners from the local Division III college - North Central College who have won friggin ridiculous amount National Cross Country Championships over the years. But, they still give me little ole me advice. They get me excited for running.

I try on more shoes. I complain that the women's shoes are not pretty in my size. I get on the treadmill . They videotape my running. I make fun of my form. I complain that I didn't wear a running bra, that I shouldn't have worn a skirt. I make them laugh. I run some more.

I pick out shoes. I buy new socks. I get some Honey Stingers. They check me out. They smile. They invite me to go running with them anytime. How about Thursday they ask. What? Me? Run with You? Um.... really?

I walk out with my new shoes, some new friends, and a smile on my face.

Yes, I shop at my local running shoe store. Absolutely.