Or, just crabby

I started feeling sick on Sunday night.

I ran briefly on Monday, and have been basically sedentary ever since.

So now, I'm crabby. I am determined to get a short run in tonight, no matter what. But for the moment, I just wanted to whine.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Best Tuesday in about two years

Intentionally moving my body - some might call it "exercise" - has been part of my routine now for about six years. Over that time, I've gone from struggling to finish 20 minutes on an elliptical trainer to gradually adding more and different activities. An aqua aerobics class led to a dance class, which led to strength training and spin class and (eventually) running, swimming and biking. But when I really need to feed my spirit, I head to Salsa/Funk class to dance my troubles - and my jiggling thighs - away.

It's a cardio class in the truest sense of the word, because it is intensely good for my heart. Moving with the music, surrounded by friends, sweating like a fiend and absolutely working every part of the routines is just indescribable. It leaves me exhausted and exhilarated, untethered and untamed. It taps into the part of me that transcends the physical. Yes, my body follows the steps, but it's the soul that dances. And 583 calories later, it doesn't feel like you've worked out, but you've earned the donut.

Last night brought my friend Donna, the originator of Salsa/Funk back to Lifetime Fitness in Schaumburg. After two years in different clubs around the area, the Funkstress herself came home. There's no denying the distinct pleasure we felt dancing to Thriller, and Applause, and Jai Ho, and every other song she chose for the playlist. We got an hour of groove on and left just overflowing with joy.

The last time I danced with Donna in Schaumburg, I was healing from injury. Let's face it - I've been recovering a lot over the past few years. So doing some of the dances last night felt different in my legs. I was able to jump, and leap, and feel supported by my own muscles. It was amazing; I felt strong and in control, capable and frankly fantastic.

Sometimes when the blues come calling - and they do, more often than I'd like to admit - I force myself to get out and move, whether on the bike or on foot or in the pool or, when the timing works out, in a dance class. It is amazing to me how just working up a sweat and pushing my body a little bit can set everything right. And the best way I know to do that is with an hour of this class. It's a reminder that our bodies are miraculous and perfect, that we should be grateful for the ability to move. It's an opportunity to loosen our grip on reality for 60 minutes and just be a dancer.

And I'm reminded of the closing scene in the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding," when Rupert Everett assures Julia Roberts that there may not be marriage. There may not even be sex. But by God ... there will be dancing.

There will, indeed.

Holy Crap

One month from today, we land in Florida. Di, Shelly, Linda and I take on our second Disney half marathon this year - the Wine & Dine Half.

Training is on target-ish. Yesterday I ran a slow 10, with the first seven going pretty well. Fatigue set in then, and my legs felt super heavy. I interspersed liberal walk breaks on the return trip, and it worked out okay.

Am I nervous? Maybe a little. I have goals, and I know what I want to do out there. I know that nighttime races are pretty much my wheelhouse. And I know that anything is possible, but you have to put in the work to reap the rewards.

I've put in the work. I've hustled my tail up hills and across bridges and through mud. I've hoisted weights to make my legs (and the rest of me) stronger. And yes, I've gotten my rest.

I have one more month to take off a few more pounds, work in a few more long runs, and get it done. In the end, there will be another Disney finish line.

This time, with a cold beer and Dole Whip at the end.

But not together. That would be gross.

Where'd September go?

Lawsy me, September has flown by! And a busy month it was. Between volunteering, time with friends and a few truly fun races, my birthday month began the slow skid into October.

Which means fall running, which makes me happy. (Not fall itself, mind you; no, that cruel season reminds me of death and boredom. But running in 40 to 60 degree temps is pretty stellar, thankyouverymuch.)

So what did we do this month? Well, the whole thing kicked off with Labor Day weekend - also known as my opportunity to lay by the pool and eat ice cream, which did nothing for my fitness goals. But then there was Ironman weekend, during which I was completely entranced by some incredible athletes - three of whom are my friends! You can't witness something like Ironman and remain unchanged. Just yesterday, I took an hour-long dance class and then headed out for an eight-mile run, and that sounded kind of difficult to me. Until I remembered two miles in the water, followed by 112 on the bike and a marathon. Nah ... eight miles is nothin'. 

Personally, I had some great races this month. On the 16th I went to the Blackhawks training camp festival with my sisters Pat and Jenn, and Jenn and I did the "Mad Dash to Madison" 5K. It was my second-best 5K ever, and just 38 off my PR for this distance. I ran it in 39:06, with a 12:37 minute mile - an excellent race for me! Plus, it was just a ton of fun.

Less than a week later, I did the Women Rock 10K, and it's my new 10K PR! WOOT! I finished in 1:23:09, running an average 13:23/mile. Not fast, by anyone's standards, but still better than I've done before. Really happy with it.

Then, just last Saturday, I rounded out my month of races with the Eat Dirt Mud Run ... which, frankly, ate dirt. Not good, really. Kinda borning, not a lot of dirt or mud, not many obstacles. But I did it, and it was fun with the folks I was with (my sister Jenn, friend Angelicque and her friend Jen.) 

At any rate, that's a month with three events! Crazy, I know. And now that it's drawing to a close, I'm realizing I have just six weeks to train for Wine & Dine. Nutso. Soon I'll be in Disney World, ready to run my fourth and final half marathon of the year. I will be ready. I will have fun. And hopefully, by the time it's here, I will be even stronger and healthier, and ready to run.

Next week, I promise a weigh in. But this week, I'll share the workout plan:

• Monday - Rest day
• Tuesday - Three miles, easy
• Wednesday - Seven miles, tempo 
• Thursday - Two miles, easy
• Friday - Yoga (or 10-mile long run, to get it out of the way)
• Saturday - Strength training, swim and maybe a bike ride (if I do my long run on Friday)
• Sunday - Rest day 

Not gonna lie; the rest days are my favorite. 

Some weeks, it seems, the prescribed runs are harder than others. Last night's three miles almost killed me, and I can't really begin to understand why. I should be able to run three with ZERO issues, right? Wrong. Every run is it's own thing. Taking them as they come is part of why they can be so healing. 

Ever forward.

Random thoughts on fitness

I need more yoga in my life.

I'm considering a marathon in January 2015.

I am really happy that I only have two more half marathons scheduled; I am ready to hang up that distance for a little while.

In 2014, I will complete three sprint triathlons, and maybe an Olympic-distance one as well.

Between the blisters and plantar fasciitis, my left foot is screwed.

During the tri relay, I ran in a skirt for the first time in a race. I really dig it ... which means there will likely be more skirt purchases in my not-too-distant future.

Speaking of ... more workout clothes is exactly what I need, right?

Yes, I have a piece of furniture just for my workout attire.

Food is my downfall. I love good food, and still - no matter how hard I try not to - I end up socializing over a delicious meal.

Never say never. Which is why, when my buff friend Biff suggested I train for an IronMan, I didn't say no, or never, or shut the hell up. I'll say "probably not." I'll say "maybe." I may even say "Shut the hell up!" But I won't say never, because if I learned anything from watching Ironman, it's that ordinary people are capable of extraordinary things.

I love summer, but I love working out in the fall. Wanna come bike on the trail with me? So pretty.

I need to schedule a physical. Putting it here to keep me committed.

That's all for now ... except to say that I weighed in on Tuesday and I haven't gained. So there's that.

Early mornings, hot sun and running with the pros. Also, pride.

The simpler title for this post would be "The Chicago Triathlon" ... but where's the fun in that?

This whole endeavor started out with Linda's decision to do her first international-distance tri. I, being brilliant, suggested that Pam, Jim and I form a relay team. That way we could experience the distance, but not have to do it. And much to my surprise, they agreed.

So when the alarm went off at 3 a.m. (I must be lonely) yesterday, I had no one to blame but myself. I piled into the car with Linda and her sisters, Lorna and Terri, and we met Jim and Pam to caravan into the city.

Before sunrise.

Arriving at Millennium Park in the wee hours is kinda surreal. I helped Linda set up her transition area by flashlight while Pam helped Jim get his set up. The early morning breeze felt wonderful, giving no clue as to the heat that was to come, and I can honestly say I rather enjoyed the experience. Soon, we were as ready as we could be, which was a good thing because the transition area closed at 5:45. In the morning.

We took the time to survey the course - where the competitors got out of the water, jogged to the bike, got onto the bike course, finished it and then started the run. All told, the swim wave for the International distance was a mile (a full mile, in Lake Michigan; God love 'em); the bike was 25 miles; and the run, a 10K. Linda was doing all three, while Pam, Jim and I split our duties. We wandered down to the water to the swim finish line, and waited.

It was incredible to see the swimmers come by. Almost a mile into their day, they looked strong and capable. As the sun came up across the harbor, it was time to enjoy the view and bolster Linda and Pam's courage as they awaited their turn in the water.

Monroe Harbor, in all its sunrise glory

They put on their wetsuits and off they went, leaving me, Lorna, Terri and Alexis to watch the clock and the water for them to come in. Jim headed to the transition area, where he would meet Pam prior to heading out for the ride.

As we sat there along the water's edge, it was impossible not to be moved by the incoming athletes. The wave leaders, with their incredible ability and perfect form, seemed to glide past us. But the ones who struggled to finish were the most inspiring. They dedicated themselves to the task, and there was no way they would get a DNF (did not finish). Lots of reasons to cheer here; real effort was happening in the water.

It took awhile, but soon we saw purple caps heading our way; this was Linda's wave. I knew she'd be middle or back of the pack, but I kept an eye out for her the entire time. How I thought I'd recognize her, I do not know, but before too long she appeared, out near the lifeguard boats, pulling strong toward the swim finish. There is little in this life more satisfying than watching a good friend achieve a goal. She was all smiles coming out of the water. We cheered and hollered and followed her a bit as she ran toward transition, and then it was time to get back to the water and watch for Pam. She came in right on schedule, swimming along the wall like a champ. My friends were so strong that day!

I followed Pam to the transition area, and she transferred the chip to Jim ... off he went! We wouldn't see him for 25 miles. Pam was pooped but exhilarated. She changed out of her wetsuit and was now able to relax; she had done it! I am so proud of her for getting out there and trying, doing something amazing while much of the world was still asleep.

As we waited for Jim to return, we relaxed in the shade. It was starting to really heat up outside, we also kept our eyes open for Linda to return from her bike portion. When she arrived back at transition, she was all smiles but also upset. She had bike malfunction issues, and was not happy by the time she finished the ride. Her legs were sore, but on she went. Shortly after that, it was my turn. Yes, at shortly past noon, in full sun, with the temperature reading 91 degrees, I was running 6.2 miles.

It took a long time, but the tri staff did a great job keeping us safe and hydrated. My favorite part (other than seeing the EMTs at about the 2.5 mile mark) was the fire truck with a huge industrial fan, raining cold water down on the runners at miles three and four. It was enough to give me a new lease on life!

Shortly before my run leg took off, the pro wave began. Yes, at 11:30 a.m., the "real" athletes started their swim. I wasn't too depressed when they started to pass me on the run; I mean A) these people do this for a living and B) even if they didn't, they are certainly in a helluva lot better shape than I am! I did the smart thing; I let the ease of their stride and their obvious athletic prowess propel me forward. Concentrating on them rather than the heat or the fact that I felt stupid for doing this in the first place really helped!

Being on the course with the pros was an incredible experience, because they offered encouragement and inspiration, just like the amateurs. I didn't expect that at all, but I shouldn't be surprised; I know athletes to be some of the most supportive people in the world. It was in the last mile when two pros ran past me, together. One of them said, "You got this. Finish strong!" and I replied, "Thanks! You guys look great; I'm just gonna follow you!" and he gave me a thumbs-up and kept running. Awesome.

When I finally approached the finish - hell, I'd only been out for six miles, and Linda had done the entire race herself! - I was pooped. POOPED, I tell ya. But I ran in strong and confident; hot as it was, sore and tired as I was, I felt great! Here's me with less than a half mile to go:

Photo not yet purchased. I like that the watermark covers up my cottage cheese thighs.

Even though I didn't complete the full tri on my own, this was a special experience. Being part of a team is different. It allows you to put your focus on your friends and move through the event without the panic of wondering how you'll do in the next discipline. It's actually a very relaxed way to complete a tri!

As I approached the finish line, my posse was there waiting - Terri, Linda and Lorna Clegg, and Lorna's daughter Schlex. 

The posse, just after Linda finished - Schlex, Terri, Linda and Lorna

When I crossed the finish line, I got my water and more water and have I mentioned water? And my medal. Can't forget the medal; do you think I do these things for fun? No. I like medals.

Because laying in the grass is EXACTLY what you should do after finishing a six-mile run.

And just like that, it was over. I'm so proud of Linda, and I'm equally proud of Jim, Pam and myself. Out of 98 relay teams, we came in 35th! Plus, we had a good time ... which is always the goal.

As we were packing up Linda's bike back in the transition area, we met a guy named Frank, who had won his age group. We struck up an easy conversation, which happens a lot at events like this because hey, we have something in common, right? Anyway, he teaches spin at the Midtown Athletic club in Palatine, and he invited Linda and I to stop by and take a class - nice guy! We congratulated him (and objectified him a bit; the man was clearly created by a technician very close to God) and he chuckled. He said thank you, offering us this bit of advice: "Always accept a compliment, and always accept a gift. They are always given in hopes you will take them." 

Okay, Frank. I'm trying.

Determination

I have had an interesting week of running. Beginning last Monday, I decided to incorporate a little tactic I learned from my favorite Marine - "Attack the Day". Ryan taught me that getting up early and busting through the workout before anything else sets the tone for the day, and totally puts you in charge. So as much as early mornings make me want to punch myself repeatedly in the lady business, I've been setting my alarm. 

For 4:30 a.m.

Up and out the door by 5 is not easy for me. But once I'm out, I love it. And that love is starting to show up in the run itself. Last week, I had two miles on the training plan. I ran them in under a half hour - 28 minutes, 40 seconds, to be exact, for an average pace-per-mile of 14:11. Not bad for a clydesdale such as myself. But today was another story entirely.

Today it was three miles, just as the sun was beginning to make the horizon glow. The air was chilly and perfect, and the birds were whistling at me. (They do like to flatter, don't they?) I took my first mile at a relaxed pace, letting my legs warm up. This is sort of a requirement, because when it's early, my everything hurts. I set off through the subdivision and decided I could speed up in mile two.

I felt strong, and I will admit I felt kinda special, being up before the rest of the world. I thought about form, taking care to do the work as cleanly as possible. Even steps; core tight; head up. On short runs, I don't use headphones and I don't listen to music; I just listen for the app to notify me at each mile, and to let me know when I am half done so I can turn around and head home. 

It wasn't until I made the turn to come home and heard my final mile come to a close that I realized I had reached an elusive goal: I had run negative splits for each mile (with my pace getting faster each mile, instead of slower). Not only did I do it, my third mile was almost 30 seconds faster than my first!

I am hoping to keep this up throughout my training for the Wine & Dine Half Marathon in November. I've given myself over to the training, and I am determined to follow it as closely as possible right up until race day. There will be tweaks, but over all, I'm keeping my eyes on the prize.

Speaking of which, this weekend promises a unique prize of its own. I am participating in the Chicago Tri on a relay team! Yes, my friends Pam and Jim were foolish enough to allow me to do the run leg! Pam is doing the one-mile swim, Jim will be biking 25 miles and I ... foolishly, I've been elected to run the 10K (6.2 miles) anchor leg to finish out the race. Mostly because Jim didn't want to run. Linda is doing the full race, and I am so proud of her! I'm looking forward to busting out of my comfort zone, doing something different, earning a shiny new medal, and working as part of a team.

And finishing. I always look forward to finishing.