Take me home...

Country roads (and trails)  provide endless inspiration for a good, long run.  I find I can lose myself in the quiet solitude - the slap of my shoes on the pavement underpinned by the chirp of the birds and the babble of brooks - and the miles just melt away.

This past weekend, while on travel that took me briefly through my home town, I hit the Headwaters Rail Trail for my long run.  The Headwaters Rail Trail runs from Garrettsville, OH to Mantua, OH and follows the route of the old Cleveland-Mahoning Railroad line.  Incidentally, the last great train robbery occurred on this line at the depot in Garrettsville in 1935 (#coolhistoryfacts #garrettsvilleismorethanlifesavers #moveoverhartcrane).  The crushed gravel trail is growing in popularity for hikers, cyclists and horseback riders. 

I grew up crossing this trail, which ran between my grandfather's house and the old pony track behind it, when the trail still held railroad tracks and ties.  I remember crossing the railroad, not just on horseback, but also with packs of friends to the creek to hunt newts and crayfish.  So, coming back and running almost the full eight miles out (and then back) felt a bit nostalgic. 

The run was strong...oh boy was it strong. 

There are days you walk out the door, hit your stride and never look back.  Sunday was one of those days.  The first mile was a bit of a drag which wasn't real surprising...it was on roads through town en route to the trail.  Once I hit the trail, though, everything just clicked into place.  The air was cool, the ground was forgiving, my mind was focused and my body was engaged.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't so focused that I couldn't enjoy the scenery around me.  Brilliant green trees, Queen Anne's lace and daisies dotting the edges of the trail, scenic yet functional barns peaking out from the farms, and the occasional sound of water rumbling over rocks just off the side of the trail.  And the silence broken only by the sound of my shoes and the chirping of the birds.  I couldn't have made up a more peaceful environment in a deep daydream.

Now, it wasn't all fun and games.  I would be remiss if I didn't confess to the pain in my rear that ended up being a horse fly biting in and going for a ride.  Yikes that was a bit painful....and now I've succeeded in causing you to imagine that sight.

All this bucolic bliss gave me additional endurance I didn't know I possessed when I slinked out the door earlier that morning.  Rather than the twelve-mile out and back I planned, I pushed out an extra mile...and got stronger on the second half of my run rather than slowing to exhaustion. 

Swept past the old grist mill downtown

.

That is such a great feeling.  When I finish stronger than I start, it gives me confidence that a bad start to a run never has to mean a bad run (though this run didn't have a bad start...it was just a good run that grew great).

I'm so happy to have the opportunity to experience runs like the one on the Headwaters Rail Trail.  Truly, country running helps me find a happy place that settles my training into a comfortable place.  I hope others feel the same about trails like this.  Happy trails!!!

2015 miles to date:  609.12 miles

Observations:  The back pain I was experiencing last week has passed.  I switched to a standing desk at work since it was sitting that increased the pain.  That seemed to help a bit.  I'm still riding the high from Sunday and hope to drive that all the way through to my long run this weekend.

 

Dedicated and determined...

Milestones are important.  They demonstrate forward progress.  They are an acknowledgement of achievement.  They validate and reassure.  Passing by the 500 mile mark (and 600 miles before this weekend is up) evinces my dedication and determination to be a better runner.

I may not be the definition of a dedicated and determined runner.  Sometimes I pass up a run to take the diva and baby K to the playground.  Sometimes a workout session gets sidelined because the office calls.  Sometimes the weather app on my phone tells me it's just too hot outside and I'd rather read a book. 

But here's why I believe I'm the picture of a dedicated and determined runner.  I love running and, no matter what, I always come back to my running shoes.  It's as simple as that. 

That love of running sends me back out in my running shoes time and time again.  The thrill of finishing a race strong...the knowledge that my body and mind work together seamlessly...the setting of and hitting goals...the joy of excitement when my daughter asks how my run went. 

Tying on those running shoes and taking that first step out the door day after day, in cold weather and hot weather (it was near 100 degrees yesterday when I ran), through sickness and during stressful days - that is dedication and determination.

So today, as I head out for yet another hot run, I'm digging deep to find that determination to keep going and relying on my dedication to my sport to push all the way through to the end of the run.  Happy trails!!!

2015 miles to date:  586.86  (I'm still in the hole against where I believe I should be for the year so far, but I'm closing that gap as my monthly mileage totals are back to pushing over 100)

Observations:  Right now I'm battling pain in my SI joint.  This flair up of the old injury happens a couple times a year.  It doesn't stop me from running.  Actually it pushes me out the door because running is one of the few activities that seems to ease the pain...seems contradictory.  It will pass.  It always does.  In the meantime, I'm feeling like I've finally hit my stride for the year and am on an upward trajectory toward hitting my goals.   

Finding luck and beating the hills...

I was raised in small town (farm town) Ohio, surrounded by rolling hills and acres upon acres of pastureland and corn fields.  It can be constricting and inspiring in equal measure...depending on your point of view or mood.  Recently it was inspiring.

This past weekend I found myself back in my hometown for an event at my former high school.  Being Saturday, I was looking for a long run to get in some miles and sweat off the stress of what had turned out to be a very stressful week (filled with long days at work and sick kids at home with a husband on work travel).

I have a usual route that I run when I'm in my hometown, but it's only five miles.  I needed more. 

My mom says to me: "How about going out 82 to Pioneer Trail, looping around Ryder and back...it's about 6 miles.  It does have Hiram hill (read big hill) but otherwise pretty flat."  Sounds good to me.  I'm in.

The morning was perfect.  About 36 degrees, but comfortable, with a start at 1,029 ft above sea level. 

Within my first half mile, I even found some new luck in the shape of a horseshoe, thrown from one of the Amish buggy horses that go up and down the road regularly.  With that kind of start, how could it be anything but a good run!  (And yes, I did pick the shoe up on the return and plan to hang it in my house for luck this whole season).

Running on that high, it didn't occur to me until my watch flashed the first mile complete, that I had been going up since I left my mother's house.  Huh, no biggie.  Small incline and I was going to have the down at Hiram hill. 

But I kept going up....not much.  I hit 1,082 ft above sea level before the downhill.  Doesn't seem like much.  Relatively unnoticeable.  And then I went down. Straight down, to 1,020 ft above sea level.  (I always thought that hill was bigger, at least it always felt that way growing up).

Looking up ahead of me after coming down Hiram hill, I noticed the road climbed again.  And climbed.  And climbed.  Where was this flat route my mother told me about?  And after driving these roads my entire life, why had I never noticed the hills?

Not one to be beat, I kept climbing.  It had to end at some point, and in the meantime I had the farmland to distract my mind.  When I finally stopped climbing, at mile 3.15, I was at 1,328 ft above sea level.  That had been a relatively steady 3 mile climb up hill.  Whew.

It flattened out and then went down hill after that, except for going back up Hiram hill on the return (though I will tell you, Hiram hill was easy and puny after the first 3 miles of road). 

In all, the 6 mile loop with only one hill turned out to be a 7.5 mile loop that was all hills...but it felt great.  My whole body was alive and engaged in the run. I loved the route.  I loved the views.  I loved the fast (for training) pace I was able to maintain.  All cylinders were firing together.

I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes you get more out of the completely unexpected and really enjoy the outcomes.  I'm not much for surprises and I always make sure I've studied course maps and elevation charts before I run.  But this was a great change of pace and I would encourage others to take on an unexpected challenge too.  Happy trails!!!

2015 miles to date:  329.91 (I'm 70 miles in the hole right now, but can catch that back in a short couple months with the right approach.)

Observations:  My body is giving me more that I expected at this point.  It's feeling good, things are working.  I'm still not as fast as I was before baby, but I'm finally feeling like I'll get there.  I even added a second marathon in to my fall schedule because things are just feeling good.  Let's hope that sticks.

Run with a view...

Some races are about speed.  Some races are about the difficulty of the course.  Some races are about finishing.  And some races (or training runs) are simply about the views. 

Last weekend I traveled with two of my "besties" (oh goodness, did I actually just use that word?) to Charleston, SC for the 38th Annual Cooper River Bridge Run.  We enjoyed food, shopping, friendship...and, oh yeah, we ran a race too.  A race with a view.

Going to Charleston was a little nostalgic for me.  When I was growing up, every other summer my mom would take my sister and I to Myrtle Beach for vacation and we'd almost always finish the vacation with a trip to Charleston.  The history buff in me LOVES Charleston.  I loved Rainbow Row.   I loved the Civil War forts and historic tours.  I loved the old market.  Leading up to this race weekend, I looked forward to reliving some of those memories....this time with my friends.

The Cooper River Bridge Run starts in Mt Pleasant, across the Cooper River from Charleston, ascends the bridge and finishes on Meeting Street right after turning off of Wentworth.  Between the drop off at the start line and the mimosas at brunch after the finish, there was no end to the entertainment and the varying views.

It all begins in the starting corrals (very well organized by most race standards, let alone one with 40,000+ registered runners).  As we waited for our start, dude in front of us was using a gatorade bottle for his spit cup, then left said spit bottle on the ground for 30,000 runners to trip over.  Sort of gross...or really gross.  Then we get started.

To say this race committee knew how to provide quality entertainment would be an understatement.  We were provided great Southern bands just about every third to half a mile along the race course.  Just as the sounds of one band began to fade, another began to grow in volume.  And not just your local high school bands or whoever was available to make a little noise.  These were the types of bands you would pay money to go hear. 

Most importantly, with few exceptions, everywhere you looked were the types of views you expect to see running a race in Charleston.  From the picturesque salt marshes with the long piers reaching out through the cordgrass to the waterway, dappled with bird houses on stilts, to the weathered brick-faced buildings that you could imagine rehabbing into something beautiful, every where you look there was an amazing view.  But much of it paled as we climbed the 5.6% slope to the top of the Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge.  Looking down on Charleston, and all that makes Charleston as charming as lore would have it, is amazing.  And the new bridge is a beautiful example of what a bridge can look like.

Race finished, we immediately needed a new view....preferably one with mimosas...and biscuits...and grits (we were in the South).  We parted with money and made our own personal investments in the economy at the shops.  We strolled the water front parks and historic streets (wondering at the street-side doors that lead to no where but the porch).  We ate in amazing restaurants.  And I even gracefully sipped a whiskey cocktail at Cannon Green.

I capped off the weekend with a short run on Sunday morning to Folly Beach.  It was a windy, brisk morning.  But when the views consist of the salt marshes, signs promising womanless beauty pageants or fresh shrimp and end at the Folly Beach fishing pier, who notices brisk temperatures.

Thank you Leah and Ann for a fantastic adventure.  I really look forward to the next one.  Happy trails!!!

2015 miles to date:  246.86

Observations:  In trying to ramp up my weekly mileage to where it should be, I'm wearing my body out and risking injury.  I've decided to take the ramp a little slower and, to keep from pushing too far too fast, I've decided to opt out of the spring 50K I planned to run in April....eyes on the prize in November, not going to risk losing my summer training because I'm sidelined.  

Why do it...

I believe I'd have a hard time counting the number of times I've been asked: "Why do you do it?"  "Why do you get up early to run?"  "Why do you run on the weekends instead of resting?"  "Doesn't it hurt your knees?"  Or more simply: "Geez, why do you run?"

I admit, the list of excuses I could come up with for not running is pretty impressive.  "Boy it would be great to sleep in today."  "I'm too exhausted, I'll just workout tomorrow."  "It's been a rough day."  "I've got housework that needs to get done."  "I'd rather go watch my daughter's gymnastics practice."

It's hard to get up early, push through physical and emotional exhaustion, missing some of my kids activities, and watch the cleaning pile up at home.  It's lonely out there by yourself in the dark.  It's cold pushing through the icy winters and hot knocking out those muggy summer miles.

But I've never once actually asked myself (in that tone that implies that I make slightly crazy decisions with my life) "Why do I do it?"  I think I know why.

Running isn't a choice for me, it's part of who I am.  Running helps me relax.  It helps me feel strong and accomplished.  It improves my confidence.  It helps me think clearer.  And, it helps me release the bad in life.

But more importantly, at this stage in my life, is that I do it for my daughter.  Girls need positive role models that are strong, normally sized, hard working and committed to their goals.  It brings me joy to see her smiling face at a finish line cheering for me and waiting with a high five and a "good job Mama."  I'm proud when she asks if she can run with me or asks me if I worked hard when I come home sweaty.  It helps me to know that she will grow up knowing that women are capable. 

Soon, I will also do it for my son.  He's still too young to understand why he waits at a little line at parks waiting for mama to run towards him.  He doesn't know how much hard work or commitment went into completing that race or a tough workout, but someday he will.  I want him to grow up proud that his mother was dedicated to achieving her goals and knowing that women are strong and capable.

So, in the end, the real response to someone asks me "Why do you do it?" is actually "Why don't you?"  Happy trails!!!!

2015 miles to date: 224.58

Observations:  It's been tough ramping up to the weekly mileage I need to maintain my training.  I need to add another day of running per week to get there.  Also, lately, my legs have been feeling a little heavy...need to figure that one out.

Making changes...

We all have disappointing runs or training sessions from time to time.  Your head hurts, your body hurts, your mind is distracted, you've got too many other things to do - regardless of why, those workouts just leaving me feeling down and wanting something better afterward.

What I always hope doesn't happen is a body or mind crash during a race.  Unfortunately, I had just such an experience this past weekend at the Disney Princess Half Marathon. 

I've lined up at that start line four other times. I know the twists, the turns, the ups & downs.  I even know the speed bumps.  I keep coming back because it's predictable, I enjoy the atmosphere and I am always seeded well enough to end up in a starting corral that gives me space to run my race (as opposed to getting bottled up with the 24,000 other runners).

Coming out of the race, you would think I was happy with my performance.  I finished in the top 6% overall and the top 7% in my age group.  But I went into the race with a submission time that placed me in the top 1% of the race field....and, in all but a few races, I tend to compete against myself and the clock rather than the race field. 

So this weekend I was chasing 1 hour, 48 minutes.  That was my verified submission time for a half marathon finish in the past couple years.

In my heart of hearts, I know that my fitness still isn't back to that level, but 1 hour 55 minutes should have been achievable.

I felt good moseying up to the start (at 5:00am) in corral A (right behind the elites....which always gives me an extra boost of speed).  I didn't really do anything different in my race prep.  I didn't wear new shoes or a new piece of running gear.  I was hydrated.  My back felt good.  Everything pointed toward a good race.

At the start, I was pulling 8:30 miles, which would have landed me below my race goal of 1:55.  I was in to watching the costumes, enjoying the cooler air.  Then, almost like smacking into a wall or trudging through a bog, at mile 5 the wind went out of my sails.

I felt like there was nothing I could do to make myself move any faster, and my time began to degrade pretty dramatically.  I refueled.  I gazed at Cinderella's castle.  I smiled up at Anna and Elsa trying to gain some new momentum.  Nothing.  THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO TO MAKE MY LEGS TURN OVER FASTER.  That is as frustrating as it gets.

So now I'm looking at that 2:03 finish and trying to figure out what I need to do to get back down to that 1:55 (or even better, break that 1:48).

I've recently increased my strength and flexibility training, returning to yoga and pilates twice a week.  But I know that my frame is still caring 20 extra baby pounds and I've got to get my diet under control.  Which means, next step is cleaning out the kitchen and convincing my family to hold me accountable.

A Stacie who meets her goals is a happy Stacie.  Here's to the sweat and tears and all the hard work it will take to regain that fitness level.  Happy trails!!!


2015 Miles to Date: 137.14

Observations:  While it would be easy to let a bad performance go to my head, I can control the impact said performance has on my morale and I refuse to let it get in my way.  Just another hurdle to overcome....

Listening...

...is about the most important thing a runner can do.

The toughest lesson most of us "I'm invincible and made of steel," type-A, delusional runners struggle to embrace is just that....listening to our bodies.

It's goes something like this:  "my ankle hurts today, oh well, I need to run 5 miles."  "My back hurts today, too bad I'm sure a run will make it feel better."  "I'm hacking up a lung, which must mean I should run 5-6 miles in the freezing cold in order to clear my lungs."

In almost every instance, the exact opposite is really what the runner should have done.  Listening to your body's cues for when things feel good and bad can make you a better, healthier, stronger runner.

I've learned that lesson all too well through my own errors.  In 2010, I injured my SI joint...pretty bad.  After weeks of running through pretty excruciating pain, I went to see my physical therapist.

As the PT for the Navy cross country team, she's used to seeing runners like me, unwilling to listen to what our body says and take the necessary rest.  So, she gave me two choices - (a) I could either rest for a few weeks and heal or (b) I could extend the time it would take to heal, continue running in pain and do some stretch and strengthening work.

Obviously I chose (b).

I continued to run and did the exercises.  Walking and sitting was painful.  Running was only slightly less painful.  I became a stock owner in icy hot.  It took me two years before I could run much more than a half marathon again.

Fast forward to today.  That lesson sucked and I decided to do things a bit differently.

Recently, I took part in an awesome girls weekend at a great friends house.  She scheduled a massage therapist to come over and rub away the stress of life.  I rarely get massages because my back is way to sensitive, but I decided to go for it and focus on shoulders and legs....yet forgot to tell the masseuse to stay clear of the SI joint area.  Whoa is me.

The next day I was running on the treadmill and noticed a twinge in my lower back.  Crap.  Later that day I loaded up in the car and drove to Ohio.  After exiting the car, the twinge was a bit more of a nagging pain.  Double crap.  And the next day it was no better.

But.....this time instead of running through it to keep racking up my miles for the year, I just took the time off.  Was it hard?  Uh, yeah, understatement of the year.  It was snowing most of those days and I LOVE running in the snow.

 That said, the thought of missing out on my plans for this running season, would have been harder.

It only took about a week before my back was feeling better and I didn't really miss a beat.  Am I behind on miles for the year?  Yeah, but with the warmer weather right around the corner, I'll quickly catch back up.  So, learn from my mistakes and corrections.  Listen when your body hurts.  Go harder/farther if its praising the heavens.  Good or bad, just listen.  Happy trails!!!

2015 Miles to Date:  115.41

Observations:  Mentally I had a really tough time looking at my running bag, carrying it with me every day but not using it while I was recovering.  I also felt really darn proud of myself when I did reopen my bag and tie on those shoes again.  I chose the right path, rather than the one that my head was screaming for.  Admittedly though, I became a bit of a cranky beast.