Happy Birthday, Sole Mate!

I just wanted to quickly write a happy birthday message to my running partner, Cat. She's my sole mate, 25% of the Racing Team, and incredibly good friend. Without her, I wouldn't be a better runner or a better person. She also just completed her first triathlon! I know 25 is going to be an even better year for dominating every race/goal she sets out to tackle.

I love you, Cat :)

Runaway Bridesmaid

It's officially wedding season! My weekend was spent celebrating the upcoming nuptials of close friends and while I am absolutely thrilled to be a part of such joyous occasions, there is one part I could do without: the eating. It's this unwritten rule that there needs to be a smorgasbord of food at every bridal celebration. The bridesmaids snack on cheese and crackers while bonding, champagne is downed by the bottle, and don't forget about the cupcakes, heart shaped cookies, and three-tiered cake. If you're anything like me, you love to eat. And snacking is almost mindless. You don't realize the damage you've caused until you're heading home after an all-day bridal shower. You feel bloated, at best.

This morning, I didn't want to get out of bed. I felt like my body had turned into everything I had eaten throughout the weekend, all of which insisted on staying put and not running. But, common sense won out and I begrudgingly headed out for a four mile jog. I was expecting to hear my stomach grumbling over the sound of Akon in my ears, but much to my surprise, my stomach didn't even whisper. It felt great to run! I felt like I was working off everything I had allowed myself to indulge in, and the guilt literally melted away. I'm not saying that I can eat insurmountable amounts of frosting every weekend as long as I hit the pavement after, I'm just saying that it's all right to be indulgent. Because after all, this is the season of I do.

smile

I'm just going to be honest. I had the shittiest run ever this morning. I mean, I was massively struggling. I decided to do my favorite six mile loop, and everything was going great until I hit mile three. And because it was a loop, I couldn't just turn around and magically be home. No matter what I did, I was still three miles away and had to get home somehow. I debated walking. Now, I know there's absolutely nothing wrong with needing to take a quick walking break during a run, especially during a physically draining run; however, I was determined not to walk. In my depleted state, I had annoyingly convinced myself that walking symbolized failure and the only way home was to run; even if it destroyed me, which it nearly did.

I didn't look pretty at mile three. Granted, not many people do three miles into a run, nor should that ever really be a primary concern, but I feel like it's an important piece to the story. I was dripping in sweat, probably grunting, and most definitely swearing under my breath. Misery consumed me three miles in.

I made it to mile four and started having an inner argument with myself:

Hannah1: there's no shame in walking, you know.

Hannah2: suck it up!

Hannah1: but I want to go to bed. It's 5:30 in the morning.

Hannah2: suck it up!

That continued for about another mile or so, and somehow I made it to mile five. At this point, I was not only physically exhausted, my brain was also throwing in the towel; it was fed up from arguing with itself and quite ready to give up on running, the day, and if it had any way, quite possibly give up on me, as well.

And then, something magical happened: I saw another runner. There was someone else up and actually running at 5:30 on this suppressingly muggy summer morning. As we approached each other, I noticed that she, too, looked miserable. Not just miserable. She looked how I imagined I looked, too: face distorted in pain, body fighting every step, sweat flying off of every limb.

We looked at each other, nodded, smiled, and then laughed. Instant camaraderie. In that moment, we were one. We shared the same struggle, battle, and ultimately, the same domination. Yes, it was a fleeting association, but it was enough to get me through that last mile. More than that, it was enough to make me want to get up tomorrow morning and repeat the whole process. Because when you really think about it, sometimes all you need to "suck it up" is a shared smile from a stranger.

Born to Run

I recently started reading Born to Run, after numerous recommendations and shocked responses of "What? You haven't read this book yet?!" Because I'm a MA Publishing & Writing student, I get wary when a book comes that highly recommended, but because I'm a runner who is also in constant need of motivation, I decided it was time to open the book. And wow, am I so glad I did! Granted, I'm only halfway through, but keep in mind I started this book less than 24 hours ago. I cannot put it down. I'm already bummed that there's only half the book left; it's so good that I wish it didn't have to end. It's one of those books. It's a MUST read. Born To Run had me so inspired that in the past 24 hours, I've run 12 miles, simply because when I wasn't reading, I had to be running (minus the time spent at work/internship/and the few hours sleeping).

During my run last night I kept thinking about the book, and about this one quotation in particular that the author, Christopher McDougall, had cited: ""Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn't matter whether you're a lion or gazelle - when the sun comes up, you'd better be running."

With that quotation fixed in my brain, my run felt effortless. I felt like I was floating around the Charles, and like I could run forever.

Final word: READ THIS BOOK!!! http://www.chrismcdougall.com/

Boston Marathon

It's been awhile since my last post, I know. I know. I've been meaning to write. That sounds like such a cheesy line an ex-lover would say when you awkwardly bump into them on the street: "I've been meaning to call you..." uncomfortable silence. Except there's no ex to blame the writing hiatus on. Only me. I've been running. I even ran my first 5 mile race on April 3, which is a major deal, considering I've been injured since October. But, I did it. And then my favorite day of the year (well, top three, anyway) just happened: Marathon Monday. The entire city of Boston basically shuts down and is taken over by runners decked out in every bright shade of rainbow. It's like someone got on a skyscraper and poured a giant skittles bag over the entire city. It's intoxicating.

Also, it's beyond inspiring. Especially this year. I spent the Sunday before MM with my step-mom; we volunteered the day before and then went to the Expo together. Being around thousands of excited runners gives you this charge of energy that's unlike any other rush. You literally want to run forever. The actual MM day I spent with my friend Alex. I woke her up bright and early and took her out for her first ever 4 mile jog. It was wonderful being able to share in someone else's "I did that" elation. I've been there many times and feeling proud in yourself is a feeling that'll never get old, I'm sure. After our run, and coffee reward, we watched the entire 26.2 elite race on her TV in Beacon Hill, and I cried like a baby when the world record was won. And watching the women sprint to the finish.

And of course, I cried watching Kara Goucher come in top-5. She's one of the most amazing runners. Watching her just gives me chills. I told myself I'd qualify for Boston, somehow, for next year. I'll be 25 and it'll be the 116th Boston Marathon (16 being my favorite number). I'm not sure if it's at all possible, especially since it hasn't even been a week and my confidence is already dissipating. But deep down, I am determined. I'll find a way. There's something about running that has my heart. Maybe because it requires a consistent effort on my part. It's essentially entirely up to me. There's something so liberating, and terrifying, in knowing that. But this year, I'm set on letting the liberating aspect win over the terrifying.

And knowing that, I know I can do it.

I did that

I just got back to my desk from my lunch break. I'll be more specific. I just got back to my desk from the gym, where I ran a 5k on the treadmill. The machine I've been terrified to even walk by ever since I got injured back in October from over-use. I woke up this morning really frustrated. I procrastinated and didn't go to the gym, even though I got up at 5:30 and had enough time to go. I got to work and my gym-going friend, Giselle, said she wasn't going to make it to the gym with me today. "Okay," I said, "I don't really have to go." And that's true, I didn't have to go. But a small part of me wanted to. That small part of me felt ready to test my knee. "Just one mile," my stepmom cautioned. "Don't push it." But I felt ready. I felt scared, but I felt ready. After changing into my gym clothes, I entered the gym, willing my body to head straight to the treadmills, not letting myself even glace toward the more body-friendly elliptical. With a sigh, and perhaps a deathwish, I started to run. One mile later, I felt more confidant. Two miles later, I was smiling. 3 miles in, I was giggling to myself. The "I can do this" attitude adjusted to the new "I did that" attitude. Granted, it was a 5k which is nothing compared to the 1/2 marathon I did this past summer. Well, at least not distance-wise. But mentally, it's the same. Getting over that hill, getting to that finish line, learning to find the confidence within yourself, that all comes from the same place, no matter the distance, no matter if it's at the gym, outside, or in a race. Sometimes the biggest reward is just proving yourself right; sometimes it's just saying "I did that."

I'm coming for you, Lance

I haven't been able to run consistently since October due to my annoying bout of "runner's knee;" but that hasn't stopped me from trying other forms of cardio. I recently went to a spinning class with my parents and followed it up with a run through snow covered hills. While I discovered running through snow on a bum knee isn't the most fun in the world, spinning is incredibly wonderful. I absolutely fell in love with the class and have actively been looking for a spinning class near my apartment. There was something so supportive about working out in a class-setting where enthusiastic shouts were encouraged while you're being told to pretend you're racing Lance Armstrong through a night club, on a bike. It's encouraging, it's motivating, it's an awesome sweat-inducing good time. Biking in general has become a great amount of fun for me, lately. This weekend I biked 44 miles, split between two days, and this morning I did a 15 mile bike/hill workout before heading into work. While at heart I will forever be a runner, cross-training has made me a stronger runner, a better runner, and a happier runner. And hey, now I have the best of both worlds!