Running with the marathon woman. And a deer.

Yesterday, June 7, was hot in Chicagoland. A balmy 93 degrees when I left the office at 6 p.m., but that didn't stop me from meeting up with my girlfriends at Busse Woods for a little run.

My friend Linda and I have been training together since November. We've had to take time off for injuries and work schedules, but we always come back to running. This run was different, however, because our tour guide was our friend Eileen, an accomplished marathoner. She describes herself as a new runner, having only been at it for six years. Really? I guess I'm really new, then! Anyhoo, we met up with Eileen at the forest preserve, where we were joined by Esther, the mobile water unit. She rode her bike alongside us, with a cooler full of water. How cool is that?

Running through Busse was gorgeous. There was a breeze to distract us from the difficulty of the run, and the true beauty of being in nature didn't hurt, either. Eileen powered on ahead (she has a much faster pace than we) and Linda and I began to enjoy the journey.

After about two miles, Eileen turned around and caught up with us, so we headed back toward the cars after a wee water break. Linda and I were on a walk interval when we came upon the sweetest little fawn, munching on a dinner of prairie grass. We stopped and said hi, and she flipped her little fawn tail at us ... then went right back to her meal. Sweet! I will definitely come back here for more runs; it was too beautiful not to. (It should be noted that this was my first time back to Busse since the fateful day of March 21, when the Achilles told me to fuck off. It was nice to be back and not in pain!)

Back at the car, we took a Gatorade break and a photograph. No way we could let this sort of activity go by without a record of the event! So here we are, four sweaty girls, on a 90+ degree day in Chicago. We wouldn't have it any other way.

Left to right: Linda, me, Eileen and Esther - the Salsalicious Racers!

Progress

So last Saturday I participated in a 5K (see post directly below for all the deets). It was my fourth race this year, and I was a little nervous.

See, I want to progress as a runner. Heck, I want to actually be a runner. And it’s taking a long time. Achilles tendonitis isn’t helping things, either, but I’m trying to just go with it and accept the fact that I am slow.

I didn’t get into this thinking I would ever win; I just want to be consistent, and run a solid 15-minute mile. (After I master that, we’ll up the ante.)

I’m reminded that it isn’t about speed, but about enjoying the journey, sharing in something with other like-minded people, and trying my best (which also means being willing to fail.)

But anyway, last Saturday, I did not fail. I did not set a new PR or anything, but I did my best (even with the sweltering heat) and improved upon my pace in a few past races.

Here’s where we’re at so far:

Sweetness 5K – June 4, 2011
49:56 – exactly the same time as I had in the Hot Chocolate race on November 6. I finished 26 out of 36 in my division, and 328 of 424 overall, with an average pace of 16:05/mile. Managed to shave 39 seconds off my time from Run Wild last month.

Run Wild – May 14, 2011
50:35, average 16:17 mile.

Long Grove St. Paddy's Day 5K – March 13, 2011
45:23, average 14:38 mile

Super Bowl Shuffle 5K – February 6, 2011
47:37, average 15:21 mile

Arlington Heights Santa 5K – December 4, 2010
51:41, average 16:40 mile

So, all told, out of all the 5Ks I’ve run thus far, my most recent one placed me right in the middle. Not my worst, not my best, but still completely acceptable. And it gives me something to shoot for … not a bad deal, at that.

Another weekend, another race

I remind you, gentle reader, that the term "race" here merely means that a group of people are running against the clock. I, on the other hand, am merely running at the same place, with these people, hoping to finish. Although I do enjoy an official time, mine is usually long after my friends have crossed the finish line and cracked open a cold beverage.

At any rate, this weekend the Schaumburg Six (plus one, my sister Kathie) headed to Yorkville, IL (to get there, drive toward the corn, turn left at the cow) for the Sweetness 5K, to benefit the Walter and Connie Payton Foundation. It was hot. For serious. But I was wise. In the cooler, I had packed water, Gatorade ... and water-soaked hand towels that had spent the night in the freezer. So I had that to look forward to.

The race kicked off at 8:15 a.m. at a balmy 80 degrees. We might have been out in the country, but the humidity felt like a good old-fashioned Chicago summer day. I was sweating while I stretched out.

This, ladies and gentlemen was going to be a tough one.

We met up, did our dynamic stretches, and chatted a bit. We introduced ourselves to Jarrett Payton, son of Walter, and got ready to run.















Us, minus Simone, and Jarrett Payton

Did I mention it was hot?

Soon enough, Connie Payton told us it was RACE TIME! Off we went, through the scenic rolling hills of a quaint neighbor hood. Yeah, those hills felt scenic and rolling on the way out, but on the way back? The sun was in our faces and it was uphill all the way, swear to sweet little baby Jesus. But we did it; finished the race with smiles on our faces. Not gonna lie to ya; it felt like an accomplishment.

I've been struggling lately to get back into "athlete" mode. I mean, when do I just let myself accept the title? Do I allow my slow pace to hold me back from feeling like I belong among the athletes? Do I let that shit go, and just run my own race?

My sister Kathie, who also ran this race (and beat Jarret across the finish line), asked me to consider where I've been. "This time last year," she said, "would you even have thought you'd be trying, much less finishing?" No. I wouldn't have. I didn't understand this thing you call running. I didn't see myself with a number on my torso and a smile on my face. I wasn't ... oh, hell ... I wasn't a runner.

Now, I am.

And it has made a huge difference in my life, my self-esteem, the way I feel about myself and my world. It has healed my relationship with myself, allowed me to let go of a lot of baggage, and left me a better person. So when there are moments when I doubt my progress, I'm going to do a little comparison. For example, the following:

This is me on July 30, 2010, completing the Muddy Buddy. (Yes, I realize it looks like someone tried to drown the Michelin Man in the mud. Shut up.) I'm not gonna deny that my face here is one of great joy. That's what it felt like to accomplish the impossible, and my lack of physical health should not diminish the accomplishment. But me, today? So much healthier, in so many ways.

This is me, left, with my sister Kathie, at the Sweetness 5K on June 4, 2011.

In closing, let this serve as a lesson: never doubt the human body's willingness to forgive you for past treatment. Never let anyone tell you, you can't do something. Never stop believing in yourself. Always know that you are so much more than your work, your relationships, and your bank account. Good health is your birthright … but you do have to work for it.

Holding steady

Weighed in today, and we're holding steady at 209.2

Am I thrilled? Nah. But I'm not beating myself up, either. I'm a hungry girl. Did I maybe overdo it a little bit over the long weekend? Perhaps. Could I have made better choices? Sure. But I didn't gain a thing. That is something to be proud of.

This week I've done well at keeping active, too. I did my usual killer Tuesday night workout (an hour of strength training and an hour of cardio dance, both led by the incredible Donna Thomas). Then on Wednesday (which was June 1 - National Running Day) I not only got a two-mile trail walk in at lunch, but I did a two-mile treadmill run before hot yoga.

Speaking of ... sweet bearded Jesus, is it tough to do hot yoga after a run! The sweat was literally dripping off my everything. Into my eyes. Beading up at the ends of my hair. It was not pretty! But I got it done. We have a new Wednesday night instructor, and she's more than a little bit tough. I think perhaps she was trying to kill me. But today, I feel stronger for having survived her class, and I will be back.

The truth is, you really can only do what you can do. It's a cliche, because it's true. So I set my intention to do the best I can, and be engaged in the workout while I'm doing it. Living "in the moment" while working out increases the enjoyment of the work at hand, and it also keeps your focus where it needs to be: on you, right now, where you are - whole, complete and perfect.

Which circles back nicely to the weigh in. I give myself permission to have rough weeks. Heck, rough periods of several months, if need be. Because where I am on this journey is exactly where I'm meant to be. I'm recovering from an injury, and making lots of discoveries. I may not be where I want to be yet, but I'm not sure I ever want to be done with this particular journey.

The ride itself is pretty awesome.

Perhaps you're wondering ...

Well, how did l'il miss do on her weekend of calorie-counting? Yeah. Not so good.

Friday night found me having dinner at a friend's house. She'd had a bad day, so "dinner" turned out to be "chips and guac". I just kept telling myself, "avocado is the good fat." And it was delicious. Plus, it was nice to just visit, chat and relax. Yummy girl time (with a glass - just one glass - of wine.)

Saturday morning dawned bright and early; far earlier than I generally greet a Saturday. We've changed up our gym routine, and nowadays we're getting the run in before weight training. That means I'm at the gym before 7 a.m.

I gotta be nuts.

It was difficult, mostly because no one seems to have mastered the gentle art of air circulation. It sucks big time to be running in a pool of your own sweat. But I was with my girls, so it was all good. Then we worked out with Pam and got our weight training done, and then ... well, it's a Memorial Day Weekend tradition! Linda and I goofed off.

We treated ourselves to breakfast in the cafe (seriously? Egg wraps from heaven.) and then put on our suits for pool time. It was cold and rainy, so we used the indoor pool, and it was awesome. We sat for a bit in the dry sauna, swam around in the pool, got splashed by some obnoxious children who obviously don't know how bad chlorine is for my chemically treated hair, and then retired to the hot tub.

Sweet, delicious hot tub.

And now you know why I love my gym! Good food, and enough to do that I could spend the whole day.

The rest of the weekend was challenging, calorically speaking, but I did manage to get a run in while in Wisconsin (heat + hills + humidity = a not-so-easy "easy" run) and I didn't feel like I was overdoing things. There was cheese, there was beer ... but all in all, pretty balanced. We'll see if the scale this week agrees!

Holy shitballs

What kind of idiot choose the Friday of Memorial Day weekend to re-dedicate herself to her fitness program?

This kind of idiot.

See, I got on the scale on Wednesday. It read 206.2 - same as last week. Okay, I can live with that; no change. Then I got on again on Thursday, because that's my regular weigh-in day and, therefore, would produce my "official" weight. 209.2. Fuck. So I got on again today (obsessive, much?) and it was 209.2 again. So it's official - I gained three.

In my head, I said, okay, you can get back on the bandwagon on Tuesday. And then the other voice in my head said, "do you realize how much damage you can do in four days?"

So here I am, staring down the barrel of a three-day weekend, and knowing I will be tracking every morsel that passes my lips. Dinner tonight with Rebekah; party tomorrow at Millie's; two days in Wisconsin (and you know that means beer and cheese). Yep. All of it. AND, I'll be finding time to exercise in there. Tomorrow morning is a run and weight training. Sunday morning I may even make it to the gym before I head out of town, and Monday will bring me a run in the hills of Wisconsin. Yep. This Memorial Day will be memorable!

Not beating myself up, just letting myself be inspired. I mean, come on ... Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither was my ass.

Rainier cherries

We have reached that time of year when crack is in season. Yes, ladies and gentlemen ... Rainier cherries are available in the produce section.

Mind you, the ones I picked up in Wisconsin on Sunday were better than the ones I got at Jewel in Illinois on Monday, so maybe it's not quite time yet. But still, it signals that amazing time of year, when food is good, grown locally and, occasionally, addictive.

At the height of Rainier cherry season, I will eat a pound a day. (I will also be very regular.) I love the damn things. The realization that these things are like crack to me dates back to the summer of 1999, at a drive-in theater with Rice and Rae (and probably the ex, but he doesn't figure prominently in the story, so for the purposes of this post, he can just go fuck himself.) Anyway, we sat in our bag chairs before the movie, snacking on baguettes and olive oil, fresh tomatoes ... and these cherries. Neither Rice nor I could stop eating them, and he said, "These are like crack to me."

Truer words were never spoken. This, my friends, is my favorite fruit.