Past, meet present

My past caught up to me one June morning – on the beach. She was a younger, paler version of myself and probably half my age. Her hair was red to my strawberry blond. She ran by in a similar-to-mine green Marshall T and a pair of black Nike running shorts.
She was running to my jog, her feet churning sand while mine were slogging it. And that’s ok. I am cool with it.
I pegged her at 21 to 23.  When I was her age, running on the beach would not have been on my day’s agenda (more like drinking and surfing). I am ok with that, too.
I am who I am. I was nursing a foot injury (still am, as I finish this post while I am hooked to the Tens unit at Select PT). Injuries are no fun. But injuries offer much-needed opportunities for reat, healing, reflection, and  goal reassessment.
I am learning to slow down, to take time, and to reconnect with who I am as a runner. And I am most definitely ok with that.

Half-Marathon? No problem!

I met Sean Astin, the actor known for his roles in “The Hobbit” and “Lord of the Rings,” at the coffee truck shortly before we ran (not together) the Tobacco Road Half-Marathon on March 15, 2015.

Laurie Matecki, Sean Astin and I wait for the race to start. Matecki ran the full marathon.

I told him this was my first half. He asked if I had a plan. I said, “To not die.”
He gave a kind-hearted chuckle and promised me I wouldn’t die. He offered the disclaimer that he isn’t God, but he knew I would be OK.
I fell on that run at mile 11. A run-walker helped me up, encouraging me to keep going. I did. I finished the run at 2:48, according to my Garmin.
I hit every aid station, too. I wasn’t concerned about my time. Any time would be a PR. This was a first:

• First for the distance
• First for the course
• First with a new group of runners
• First time car-pooling to a race
• First race with shuttles
• First time meeting a Goonie
• First time not stressing about a race
• First time thinking “I’m running my run, my race.”

It was awesome. And my “plan” worked. Next up, the Brick City SpringFest 10k in April and a half in May.

Runner Girl

I think I have become a “real” runner.
I run in the rain and cold, and I’ve past the point of “holy shit, this is nuts.”
I look forward to the run (though maybe not in the rain).
I push myself farther than I thought possible.

On Dec. 26, my tribe (Brick City Running Tribe, Sanford, NC, Facebook page), held a WTF? Boxing Day Madness run. Show up and log loops around the city’s Kiwanis Park Trail (roughly 1.05 mile per loop, which started at a picnic shelter). Sure, why not?

My plan: put the wee lad in his Bob stroller (bought used, because hello budget) and get 5 loops, which is what I did in 2013. The boy wanted to run, too. So he did loop 1 with me (new slow time of …18:09). Then he was tired. So out came the stroller … at loop 4, I said, “Let’s run double your age.” At loop 8, I said, “Let’s the the Tar Heel 10-Miler.” At loop 10, I said, “Let’s run a half-marathon.” And we did. I let him run loop 10 with me.

For a winging-it plan (not a good way to log 13 loops, btw), I am pleased. My time sucked and I forgot my Garmin and to turn off my MapMyRun app (Connor was watching TMNT on my phone.

The BCRT folks set it up like this: You show up and write your name on an index card, leave the card on the picnic table and put an orange on it to hold it down. Every time you complete a loop (start/finish at the shelter), you draw a line … Easy. And there was food at the shelter … And Drip Drop (lemon flavor is good). One of their ambassadors is the BCRT go-to leader dude, Tim P. Anyway, my fellow tribers were super supportive, calling out things like “Superwoman” and “Beast momma” and saying I was awesome. And I needed to hear that … 🙂 Made the run even better.

So yeah, I’m a runner girl. You try pushing a 45-pound stroller containing a 38-pound kid up a hilly dirt trail for 13.65 miles … I’m not fast, but I got this.

Eating crow

My legs feel like rubbery goo and my hip flexors are a little too stretched out.

I don’t know why my legs are gooey. I’ve run a minimum of a mile every day since Thanksgiving 2013 (yay, Runner’s World challenge). Most days, I did more than the mile. I figured a mile was a realistic goal and I completed it. I ran a minimum of 33 miles (and more like 50 total? I neglected to log that …).

On New Year’s Day, I ran four miles. The hardest four miles of my life. No more “W” foods – wheat, wine, wheat beer … And I did a pre- and post-run yoga class. So I should feel fan-freaking-tastic.

On Jan. 2, I ran 2.8 miles and walked .2 miles on a treadmill because it was raining buckets.

Today, I ran 2.8 miles and walked 6. miles – hills because that’s what my April goal race is all about. It was the coldest day of the year (ha, day three). We had 20-30 mph wind gusts, but I rocked my old-enough-to drive-and-drink LL Bean pullover, compression shorts, Nike running tights, three long-sleeve moisture-wicking tops and a hat and gloves. I wondered if I needed some longer, over-the-ankle socks, but mine were good. And my New Balances stayed dry, despite yesterday’s monsoon.

So, why am I rubbery goo?

A non-exercising pal told me “You know, you shouldn’t run every day. It’s bad.” And I balked. What does she know? Plenty of folks run every day, and they run greater distances than do I. “I’m fine,” I said, loaded with confidence. “Besides, it helps me clear out the brain fog.” I blame that on the gluten, though, because I had a “w” word food before I ran …

Setting realistic goals

As we end 2013, let’s remember all we’ve accomplished. Maybe you paid a bill off, or saved thousands by using coupons. Maybe you managed to get to work, slog through the grind and complete a massive project. Or maybe you got out of bed and managed a shower while battling wicked depression. 

 

For the first time in 19 years, the new year starts with a new moon. Make 2014 magical. Do something new every day. Run or walk a 5k. Adopt a pet. Serve meals to the homeless. Thank a soldier. But remember to be nice to yourself, too.

 

We talk about resolutions. Screw that. Make a few goals you know you can tackle. My big one: the Tar Heel 10-Miler. The most I’ve run is a 10k (6.2 miles). I don’t aim to win this — just finish it. It’s in April (4.26.14) and I’ll post progress updates for the voyeurs out there. Other goals:

• Be nice to myself (and my dog, cat, kid and hubs).
• Find an agent for a completed novel.
• Continue to edit for Kindle (and NYT best-selling) author Terry Mancour (he writes fantasy fiction).
• Keep on writing.
• Figure out coding (I took a class at UNC, but it’s still gobbly-gook in my noggin). 
• Grow a garden. (And remember to water it, smh).
• Do more yoga (hip flexors don’t age well, ya know).
• Target a doctoral program.

OK. I know these might not be realistic, but they can be goals. Why? Because goals and resolutions aren’t the same thing. Resolutions, to me, are things I won’t do anymore — “I resolve to torture myself by not eating chocolate goodness to drop 10 pounds” sounds a lot less fun that “I will run today so I can eat a piece of Ghirardelli.” 

Goals are a long-term deal, a commitment. So this coming year, I commit to creating an action plan toward the completion of my goals. How about you?

Anyway — happy New Year’s Eve-Eve.

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