Aquamom

Perhaps you've noticed my nom de plume, "aquamom60"?  When I speak of fitness-related pursuits, swimming has always been my weakest link.  I've always looked on with admiration at those who can swim leisurely, rhythmic laps for exercise.  Maybe it's the Zen-like appeal of the water. Maybe it's the way the environment becomes a little muffled with your head under water.  Maybe it's the glide through the water or maybe it's the timing of the breath (three pulls, then breathe!), or maybe it's the absence of terror or panic on the serene swimmers' faces. Being a pushover for accessories, I think the cap and goggles could be a compelling factor for me as well.

 

Because I was never a strong swimmer, a top priority when I had my kids was making sure that they could swim.  This way, if there was ever an emergency, at least they'd stand a chance of being able to save themselves if I was unable to.  We are a beach and pool-loving clan, our family, and I wanted them to grow up with a love and appreciation for the water.  So they were all enrolled in Mommy-'n-Me swim classes as babies and they could swim before they could walk; they all became lifeguards, and they all dabbled on one level or another with competitive swimming. 

 

Hal Higdon tells me that Sunday is a cross-training day - a day to spend an hour doing something else that's vigorous and cardio-based - just not running, and nothing with lateral knee movements.  Having missed any of my opportunities to attend to a yoga class today, I decided to pull out the cap and goggles and get into the pool. With a kickboard, of course.  I thought that kicking my way through an hour on a beautiful, sunny late Sunday afternoon would be the perfectly leisurely- yet-vigorous-cardiovascular solution - how hard could that be?

I spent one hour kicking lap after lap in a 50-meter pool, interspersed with some deep-water running, with the kickboard at full-arm extension.  I actually got into a rhythm, enjoyed listening to some Allman Brothers and Jimmy Buffet courtesy of the pool sound system.

Lesson du jour:  it's amazing how fast your heart rate jacks up when you get in the pool!

This weekend has been nothing if not one humbling experience after another! 

After an hour, my arms were like rubber bands and my legs were wobblier than after the 9 miles ran yesterday.  So the second lesson du jour is: just because you're not sweating doesn't mean that you're not kicking some serious butt!

9 Miles

So as scheduled, Saturday was scheduled to be a "long" run.  The way Hal Higdon's program works so far, you run three consecutive days mid-week - short, a bit longer then a bit shorter, and on Saturday you have your long, grueling run.  The first week's long run was 6 miles, the second 7, the third 5 and now this past Saturday was 9.  Higdon's formula has you progress for a few weeks then every third week you pull back on mileage - then surge ahead and keep adding.  So next Saturday will be 10 miles but then the one after will be 7...and so on. All I know is that (1) I hadn't ever run 9 miles consecutively before this weekend and (2) I have to run 20 miles the morning after my upcoming birthday in October. Obviously, there will be some building up in between but I'm just sayin'....yikes.

So the thing about 9 miles is this: it's sort of like the 3/5/7 pound scenario, and if you've ever attempted any kind of weight loss you will know what I mean - you know how you can lose the same 3-5 pounds without a great degree of excitement but as soon as the scale reflects a loss of more than 5 pounds, say 7 pounds, suddenly it's a game-changer? Suddenly- it sort of clicks and you think "whatever I'm doing must really be working!" and  it motivates you a bit to keep doing EXACTLY what it is you're doing?  Then before you know it, you've lost 11 pounds, and so on? Well, that's what 9 miles was like for me. It wasn't the same-old/same-old 3- or even 5 mile run. 

Since my husband and I had plans for the majority of the day on Saturday and since I estimated that the run would take me approximately 2 hours, I had to set my alarm for 5:30.  This would afford me the necessary time needed to lie in bed and stress out over the task ahead of me.  Once up, I quickly got dressed, passed on the morning java and just got going before I could change my mind.  (Motivational tip:  I have been known to sleep in half of my running/workout gear, i.e., sports bra, socks, etc. the night before I have to get up and out early for a run or workout, so that when the alarm goes off, I think: "I'm half-dressd already! All I have to do is stand up!"  Don't knock it - it really works!)

So as stated, I got up early and was out the door by 6:15.  Being that it was Saturday, I decided that the route should be main roads (less traffic on weekends but still not as scary as some of the pathways/trailways can be with no one else on them).  Using my trusty smartphone app, I navigated myself 4.5 miles from home, turned around and headed back the exact same way (what's known in runderland as "out and back"). What worked about this is that 4.5 miles seemed to me to be the "goal".  It's the same kind of phenomenan as when you are anxious to arrive somewhere that you haven't driven to before, and it feels like it takes forever to get there but then the ride home goes by in a jiffy. 

What I discovered was that the second 4.5 miles was by no means a piece of cake but it also wasn't as heinous as I feared it would be.  I also discovered that a great deal of positive thinking is going to have to take place toward the end of the long runs.  (I really leaned on breath control and the yogic mind-body connection right around the same time that I was dashing around looking for a gas station that would permit the likes of me to use their ladies' room without the purchase of a tankful of gas.)  I also realized I have to get a grip on the food/hydration balance, and that I have to find an external battery source for my phone so that the navigation and music keep flowing and also in case I have an emergency.  There's a lot to work on.

The great news is that my legs felt pretty great later that day and the next day! And my energy level was ok!  And after I did a little preemptive icing of my bunion, all was well! (Plans are in the works for an entire future blog entry about the bunion.  Stay tuned.)

So even though I walked through my front door 2 hours later and said "I don't know if I can keep doing this", I think that I can.  Just like Henry Ford said.

-Paula

To donate to my run:  http://mskcc.convio.net/site/TR/FredsTeamEvents/Freds_Team?px=2654113&pg=personal&fr_id=2150

...And Some Days You Eat The Feathers.

This post is a little on the long side but if you have the patience to stay with me, you might feel as I do that it sort of comes full circle.

I am one of those people who truly believes that you have to have a little cloudiness in your life in order to really find joy in the sunny day.  One of the many things that I love about living in New York, or the northeast in general, is the extreme swings in temperature and climate.  I think that the springs and summers are more enjoyable because we have to work our way through a couple of months of cold and snow.

In any event, over the span of 20+ years, my two daughters each took many, many years of dance classes.  Over the years, their dance teacher would hold parent visitation days in mid-November where the students could prepare a dance piece of their own to a song of their choosing and perform it for their parents, grandparents and other visitors.  This was always a much-looked-forward to event, and one day during the early fall of 1994 was no exception.

 

Except that my always-prepared 8-year-old daughter was uncharacteristically unprepared, despite her assurances to me during the weeks leading up to the visit that she had it "all taken care of".  One of the things I tried to do when raising my family was to try to at times step back and let them try to figure stuff out, sort of helping them establish and develop autonomy. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn't.

So as her parents, grandparents and a host of others watched her wing her way through her 3 minutes of should-be dance school fame, I could see and feel the disappointment that washed over her.  Later on in the car, she voiced those feelings to her grandparents and me.  My very kind, wise father  (who had a million inspirational words of advice - "be good to your feet and they'll be good to you!") quietly listened as he drove us all back to my house, and when she was done bemoaning her less-than-stellar performance, he very gently said to her, "You know, sweetie - some days you eat the chicken and other days you eat the feathers."  That was all he said.  It was just enough and there was no need for me to jump in and add anything, or offer a lecture on preparedness.  The car remained quiet for the rest of the short drive.  I could see her little face analyzing the statement, her eyebrows knitting together as the wheels in her brain started turning it over to process the meaning....meaning that sometimes you succeed and sometimes you don't.  This phrase became one that she used and re-quoted many times in the years since...and the fact that my dad suddenly passed away two weeks after that incident probably served to underscore the lasting impact that statement had on all of us.

In the almost-20 years since, my little 8-year-old has had many, many successes, reaching milestones and accomplishments and making it all look so easy even though I know it wasn't- receiving awards and distinctions, becoming a leader and role model, graduating from college summa cum laude, getting her Masters' degree, becoming a talented vocalist, musician and dancer and presently seeking her law degree - even actually saving someone's life once 10 years ago - plus, she's an amazing daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece and friend and more to so many....just an all-around great human being.  There were so many times that I wished that Grandpa were around to see her emerge victorious, although I'm sure he knows.

 

So this past Wednesday, despite a gung-ho start to the morning run, it became quickly evident that I, too, was going to end up with a figurative plate full of feathers. 

 

As it happens, the lion's share of the blame was on me - It got too late. It got too hot.  I chose a lousy route.  Too much traffic, too humid, too many interruptions in the sidewalks, water bottle not cold enough, excessive, ridiculous hills....you get the picture.

 

"WOE IS ME!!!!", I thought.

 

Then, that same evening, I attended a kick-off meeting for the members of MSKCC's Fred's Team who will be running in the marathon...and not a moment too soon.

 

After I arrived at the kick-off, I made myself a plate of the light refreshments offered (hummus, pita, unsweetened iced tea, vegetable sticks), got myself seated and immediately found myself immersed in a conversation with a lovely couple -  they wanted to know - what was my story? was it my first time? Theyassured me that I would become "hooked" on the marathon/Fred's Team experience and just about were the nicest, warmest people ever, genuinely interested in the individual stories of me and so many other people there. I told them of the many friends and loved ones who had had experiences of varying outcomes with cancer;  I told them that I was a little scared, and the man said "that's why you're here tonight!"  So of course, I asked them what brought them there, and they told me that in 1972, their daughter Aubrey was four years old and treated for leukemia until she was 11 at Sloan Kettering.   Inwardly, I braced for the tragic ending to that story, but then they said that this year Aubrey will be running her 30th marathon!  They keep asking her to "retire" from marathoning, but her reply is that as long as she can run for MSKCC, she will.  Even though I just met this man, the pride in his voice was overwhelming.

A slide show began of inspirational photgraphs of past marathons, showing happy, smiling Fred's Team runners from all phases of the marathon.  Running, stretching, posing with friends,  cheerful groups clustered in the pre-dawn excitement on the Staten Island Ferry; the joyful crossing of the finish line in Central Park.  Periodically Aubrey's dad would reach over and enthusiastically slap me on the shoulder or knee and exclaim "look! that's going to be you!!!" 
 

Then the speaking portion of the evening started, and doctors spoke, then Aubrey spoke, then two sisters who lost both parents to cancer a year apart spoke.  The sisters told how they had run the 2011 marathon in memory of their recently departed dad, and how the 2012 marathon was going to be run in support and honor of their mom.  Then Hurricane Sandy happened, the 2012 marathon was cancelled in NYC and their mom died shortly thereafter - so in 2013 they ran in memory of both of their parents and just how much more meaningful it was for them to train hard and raise funds and honor their parents in this way.

It was just about then that I realized for about the zillionth time how amazing the universe is and how we all just end up exactly where we are supposed to at the time we're supposed to be there in order to have the experiences that we do so that we can learn from them.  We have good experiences and not-so-good ones, we have lousy runs and crummy days at work; performances that fall a little short of the mark, disagreements with our friends and families and colleagues and experience loss and sadness and grief and so on, but we also then get to have great performances and cook delicious food; meet amazing people and have fulfilling, rewarding experiences and get a new opportunity every single day to try to make things better or give back to others just a little bit.

 

Whether it's chicken or feathers, or winter or summer or cloudiness or sunlight, we all experience exactly what it is we're supposed experience when we do so that we can move ahead, progress, grow and bounce back and learn from it and share and bring what it is we've learned to others.

I left the meeting with a real sense of new motivation and energy, my metaphorical plate of feathers from earlier that day already a distant memory.  The next day's run was great.  Today is a "rest day" (sans yoga, even) but tomorrow I get to tackle 9 miles - and I will definitely be reporting back on that!

 

For more information on the work that Memorial Sloan Kettering and Fred's Team does, please visit www.fredsteam.org, and another very interesting charity that has piqued my curiosity can be found at www.givebackbox.com.

 

 

Running to Yoga

So much of what we do all day every day is so "forward" focused...walking, driving, working, thinking, planning, goal-setting, career-orienting and yes, running.  So how to counter all of that forwardness that we take upon ourselves every day? How do we treat the back half of our bodies, our selves, our lives, as consciously as we treat the front half?
 

Among other thoughts, yoga.
 

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have a wide and varied history in things fitness-related.   

For example, when I'm running, I'm thinking:  "WOW! I LOVE THIS! I want to run all of the time.  Why don't I run more?  I want to spend all of my free time and focus all of my fitness-based goals on running and becoming a better runner! (Except when I'm thinking "why am I doing this?" - for examples of this, please refer to the Henry Ford quote, found in post number 2.) 
 

When I'm teaching or taking cycling classes, the same thing happens.  And it happens again when I visit the gym floor to lift some weights.  Then it happens again when I put on goggles and a cap and dive into the pool.  And again when I pick up a ball of yarn and some knitting needles...well, you get the idea.  I just can't help that I love so many things so much!
 

However, Training For A Marathon requires a great deal of tenacity, focus and time.  So much so that it leaves little time for anything else beyond work, sleep and somewhat maintaining your personal and social relationships.
 

I've found a way around this, and by this I mean that I am enjoying my "rest' (non-running) days by practicing yoga.

It might seem counter-intuitive but in reality, running and yoga make great training partners!  Unless, of course, you are literally RUNNING to a yoga class because you are on the late side and worried that you might not get there in time, or conversely, you are leaving a yoga class and frantically dash off to your next destination.  In those situations, pairing running with yoga is just ironic, but the physical nature of the two disciplines actually complement each other remarkably well!
 

Yoga offers a great counterbalance to all of that forwardness, the pushing and pounding of feet and the self-imposed tightening of quads and hamstrings. Yoga as a training partner provides the opportunity to slow down, to focus and to make the breath-body connection during runs. 

When  breathing becomes chaotic, the mind begins racing and the negativity starts to creep in, using lessons applied in yoga can help with remaining present, knocking back the "what ifs" and the self-doubt and can help you focus on the journey before you.

 

A Few Words About Training

So by this time, I am completely immersed in my "training schedule".  During the past 30 or so years, it crossed my mind that if I wanted to participate in a marathon that I would have to train to do so.  When I began my research of different training plans, I was a bit overwhelmed by the different plans, protocols and general myriad assortment of advice that exists.

Thank you, Internet!

Some plans are 26 weeks in length; others 14; one is an even 100 days in length. Some have you jumping right into a weekly run total of 15-plus miles; others are a bit more forgiving.

So in May I started a 26-week training plan; I promptly developed an (unrelated) excruciating double-ear and sinus infection which sidelined me for about 10 days at the end of May/early June... I jumped ship and pledged my allegiance to Hal Hidgon's Marathon Training - Novice 1 plan, which promises that even non-runners can prepare for their first marathon in 18 short weeks!

Higdon's plan has many perks, including but not limited to built-in rest days, a built-in cross-training day, shorter mid-week runs and one long run per week which builds over time but maxes out at only one 20-mile long run (which will be taking place on Saturday, October 11th) - after that, a "taper" period cuts the mileage back and magically I will arrive 3 weeks later on race day fully prepared to tackle 26.2 miles.!

Even though I believe it, I don't really believe it, but as Henry Ford once famously said, "If you think you can, or think you can't, you're right."

I also really like that there's a compatible smartphone app which tells me exactly what to do each and every day in real time, and offers motivational support such as "Look like a runner.  You are a runner!". It sounds a little lame but it realy works.

Things That I Love about having a "training plan" is waking up and thinking that the run du jour of 3/4/5/7/etc. miles is on my day's to do list.  It sort of keeps me accountable and on track.

Parallel to my training schedule are concerns about my fundraising requirement, but more about that at a later time!

Today's run will be four miles, during which time the thoughts "I can't believe I'm actually doing this!" and "how will I ever run for 26.2 miles?" will invariably pop into my head but I will push them back and forge ahead, keeping Henry Ford in mind.

To learn more about Fred's Team, visit www.fredsteam.org and if you are interested in learning more about Hal Higdon's training plans (he has training plans for all types of events, including those for half-marathoners), visit him at www.halhigdon.com.

Who Am I and How Did I Get Here?

Welcome! I hope that this writing finds you well and if you, like me, have decided to undertake training for and participating in a 26.2 mile marathon, that you find tiny bits of inspiration, little sparks of motivation and, just maybe, some words of wisdom within the walls of this blog!

How did I get here?  I seem to be asking myself that a little bit more, each and every day. Before I can answer that, though, I should tell you a bit about who I am before I can answer how I got here...

First, I guess I should tell you who or what I am NOT.  I am not a "serious" (or what I like to call "real") runner.  I have had a love for fitness for all of my adult life and for most of the past 25 years  have been a certified group fitness instructor and personal trainer. I began this career in the late 80's, jumping  head-first onto the group fitness (then known as the "aerobics") bandwagon.  Working in this field made me realize how much I loved working with others, helping people set and reach goals and helping so many people improve the quality of their health and wellness.  Over the years, I've come to love  cycling, yoga, weight training, swimming, ...but, at best, I am a casual runner.  I've participated in many small-scale races and running events, sometimes for charity but also not, and have since the mid-1980's had a growing interest in participating in the New York City Marathon.  I don't run fast.  Or far.  Or for very long periods of time.

So - how did I get here?  Like many people, there exists in my mind's eye an evolving, always-changing assortment of things I'd like to try/experience/accomplish.  I've done a lot of them.  I've learned a lot of new things over the years and have had a lot of  thrilling, crazy, fun experiences.  I have a happy and full life - an amazing husband who supports all of my ideas, hopes and whims, three great kids, a full-time job, awesome friends and family - I feel truly lucky and blessed all of the time.

 

But last November, I knew of several people who would be running in the marathon so I went to watch it.  In addition to the excitment of the event itself, I was blown away by the number of runners who were attached to charitable oranizations- so many that I wouldn't be able to name all of them. 

One of the organizations is Achilles International - whose website states in part:

"While our programs focus on athletics, the truth is, sports are simply the tool for accomplishing our main objective: to bring hope, inspiration and the joys of achievement to people with disabilities... able-bodied and disabled athletes participate side-by-side and, with several  disabled award categories, it puts a first place win within the grasp of all runners." http://www.achillesinternational.org.

Wow!

But there were so many others!  Team in Training. Fred's Team.  Hope for Kids. Project Purple. The list goes on.

 

You get the idea....plus having so, so many people that I know and love having been affected by cancer, or having loved ones who have been affected by cancer, I decided to give Fred's Team a try. Unfortunately, I know I am not unique; we all know someone or know someone who knows someone whose life was forever changed by cancer.

The fundraising commitment is daunting - $3,500.00.  I'm actually more concerned about raising funds than running 26 miles 385 yards!!

So I have my work cut out for me!  But as someone who both loves a challenge and also loves taking on projects that I know absolutely nothing about, I think I can do it!

To visit my personal page or to learn more about Fred's Team - MSKCC - please visit http://mskcc.convio.net/site/TR/FredsTeamEvents/Freds_Team?px=2654113&pg=personal&fr_id=2150 or www.fredsteam.org