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Jan 8

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Committing for 2012: How to keep moving when it’s So. Damn. Hard.

What we should all feel like after a run (Chicago, New Year's Day 2012)

It’s January 8.  We’re just over one week into the new year, and for most of us, that means we’ve already broken our New Year’s Resolutions at least once.  I gave up on resolutions a few years ago, but this year, I’ve committed to a few simple things:

1. I will complete an Olympic distance triathlon by June.  It might be in England.  It might be somewhere else.  But I’ll have a training plan in place by the end of January, and I’ll be ready by June.

2. I will run a 5k in every place I visit this year.  I took 14 trips last year, and was only able to run in a few of them.  This year, I’m running everywhere I go.

3. Every “add on” or “personal” trip that I take in combination with work will involve something active.  I’m going to Estonia in March, and I’ll go hiking.  I’ll be in Barcelona in October, and who knows what that will bring.  But I’ll be diligent about making the most of the adventure side of my travel opportunities this year.

4. I will run a few iconic races wherever the mood takes me.  That means I’m already signed up for The British 10k.  I might sign up for The Little Beaver (name notwithstanding, it’s relatively close, but we’ll see) or the Paris-Versailles 10 miler in September.

5. I will stretch. I will strengthen.  Three days per week, I will do the core workout which will keep me healthy.  I will not get hurt this year!

6. I will run a great trail race by the end of 2012.  I will train right, but I will run it, nonetheless.  It may only be a 5k, but that’s okay.  I’m in – because the most fun I’ve had in the last few years I had on a trail.

These are simple goals, but I’m not pretending they’re small.  Most people don’t walk into their new year and put an Olympic on the calendar – but I know who I am, and I know that’s what I need to get moving.  I also know that there’s probably going to be one of these goals that won’t get met – and that’s okay.

Because here’s what I learned a long, long time ago:  I have to have a goal to keep moving.  I have to have FUN to keep moving.  It has to get easier to keep moving.

These are simple rules for me.  You might have some which work for you, too.  Maybe you have to run with others (or alone).  Maybe you have to swim in a pool (or a lake) to keep moving.  Maybe it has to kick your ass (or be easy to train) for you to keep doing it.  The question is this: do you KNOW what it takes to keep you moving?

I was walking around doing errands today and got to thinking that  all of us know, intuitively, at some point in our life, what we’re good at.  And so none of us usually chooses a career we’re BAD at for our life’s work.  We tend towards the things we do well – so we don’t keep hitting ourselves in the head each day.  But for some reason, a lot of us seem to choose workouts or sports which are really hard for us.  And yet, we keep coming back.  I don’t know about you – but if those things didn’t get easier for me, I wouldn’t keep doing them.  I was thinking about a story my friend Rich told about learning to snowboard.  Rich (who has no idea I’m telling this story, sorry, Rich!) went snowboarding one year.  Rich is – by all accounts – a pretty fabulous athlete.  He’s the Steve Nash of our football games on Sundays (which full disclosure, I haven’t played in about 4 years).  But still.  He’s a natural.  And yet, Rich tried snowboarding once in Colorado, and after a day of getting killed (maybe it was even two) he turned in the board, and went back to two footed snowfun.  Why?  Because it was counter-intuitive. It was impossible to master.  He couldn’t do it.  And it wasn’t fun.  (At least that’s the recall I have of the conversation).  And I couldn’t blame him – why would you continue to try something that was SO. DAMN. HARD – if it wasn’t fun?

For a lot of us, though, the simple reality is that all of the new sports we take up – if we’re not born athletes, and not in peak condition – will feel SO. DAMN. HARD.  So how do you know when to turn it in, and when to keep with it?  What motivates you to keep moving in that case?  It’s a question worth asking – especially at this time of year, when we’re all setting ourselves up for Big Goals.

Well, I have at least one suggestion which will help.  The simple reality is this:  if you are starting a new fitness program this month, it’s probably going to suck a little.  So for the next 60 days, if you’re starting something new, ask yourself this question:  if I could BREATHE while I was doing this, would I enjoy it?  If I was STRONGER would I enjoy it?  Because for the first two months of your new running, walking, skiing, hockey-ing, zumba-ing, bar method-ing, yoga-ing approach, your muscles will burn and you’re going to sweat and you’re going to wish that it was just a little bit easier.  But it won’t get easier – unless you stick with it.  So ask yourself:  if I could breathe, or if my legs weren’t jelly, would I maybe like this?  And if the answer is just a little bit – just a teeny bit “yes”, then keep your ass where it is, and keep on trying.

Understand that it’s going to be hard these first 60 days, and that’s okay.  But give it that time – and if it’s not fun after you’ve started to recondition your body, and to get back into it – then you can walk away.  But until then, you’ve got one goal – to give it a good try, and see if it gets easier.  And, since I’m giving some advice here, let me offer you one other suggestion:  get a log.

And I’m going to get even more radical.  Get an actual paper book.  Go to the grocery, or your favorite paper store, or Runner’s World, or whatever, and buy an actual paper book, where you can write down the detail on your workout.  Years ago, when I first started running, I did this, and it was the best thing I ever did.  I knew what I wore and what temperature I ran at. I knew end of day workouts were hard, but with friends, they were easier than morning workouts alone.  I knew running hungover was hard but I still knew that I had done it, and I could look back on it and be proud of it.  I had a record of what I’d done, and that record was just as motivating on the bad days as any number on a scale or goal in the future.  So consider getting a log.  And when you’re at Day 45 and you want to give up, just pull up a few of your log entries, and see how much fun you had, even when it was hard.

If the last 4 weeks are anything to go by, I’ll just say this about the adventure you’re about to embark on for 2012:  We will get to a day where the breathing is clearer, and our legs are less heavy.  We will feel stronger and ready to keep going after we thought we would be finished.  And until then, we need to give ourselves the room to go slower than everyone else.  We should not keep up with anyone in these next 60 days.  We should be able to talk to ourselves, or our friends, or the squirrels – out loud, without gasping for breath – if we want to keep moving.  We will invest in the long-term strategy to get back on the path.  And in 60 days, we just might be ready to call ourselves a Habit.

I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to it.

See you on the path….

 

Dec 6

6 Comments

Running Foundations

I have a lot of college-educated readers out there.  And lots who aren’t.  For those who never had the experience, when you first arrive at the halls of higher learning, you get handed a giant catalogue (or, sometimes, a very short list) of courses that you have to complete before you can do anything “fun”.  These are things like “Foundations of American History” and “Statistics 101″.  Or, if you’re me, “Remedial Spanish”.

As I was back on the path again on Saturday, I got to thinking that I was running through my own personal course of “Running Foundations”.  It’s a Freshman Year course.  It’s usually one that you wander into, occasionally hungover, and with questionable attire, sometimes wondering if you really should have had that late night Burrito the night before.  But alas, because you have made a commitment to better yourself and your life, you find yourself in a classroom (or on a path) at 8:00 a.m. on a day which usually involves sleeping in.  And for what?

Well, the premise is prety simple.  If you’ve never had a course in World History, and some day, you want to work for the United Nations, it might help to understand where all of the great countries in this world arose from.

Similarly, if you want to be the next Meredith Grey, you might want to attend Basic Hairdressing, while also figuring out how to tell the difference between an ACL and an MCL at Basic Physiology.

And if you want to some day run a half marathon, or a whole marathon, or even just get to a point where you can run regularly ( the equivalent of ALWAYS knowing where that MCL is), you have to slog through the early mornings, or the late nights, and the simple pain – and occasionally, outright fun –  of learning something you’ve never learned before.

I was thinking all of this because I’d been through Running Foundations long, long ago.  In the tail end of my law school career, I was interning at a large firm, overweight and out of shape, and I was in no condition to start running.  But I somehow decided I should try.  I got started with the basics, and embarked on a solid year of running short distances before I ever considered running anything long.

I feel very much like I’m back in Freshman year right now, re-learning how to do all of this again.  I seem to have forgotten some of the habits that I got into after years of Advanced Running (like the fact that I’m always only warmed up after about 3 miles) but on the up side, I am also continuously surprised and happy to be running again.

It’s like that first moment when you’re learning a new language and you realize that you can say more than “Oui” and “Non” and can, in fact, order a cup of coffee with some milk in it to go!  You want to do a little dance at the accomplishment, while recognizing that it’s probably still very small.  Indeed, a very small thing.

On Saturday, it was the realization for me that I was going to have no problem getting in a 3 mile run/walk, when I was about 2/3 of the way through.  It was going to be fine.  I felt like a pro coming back to audit the introductory course, but I didn’t care.  I knew how this early day of the Running Foundations class was going to end, and it was going to end well.  I was going to feel super strong, and happy, and I wasn’t going to want to crash out (at least not until later that day!).

And that’s probably the best part about coming back to the basics.  I do know how this path looks.  I do know how to navigate through the ups and downs of a return to running.  But in the meantime, I get the great days of hauling through the Common; of feeling like I’m actually FAST (???), and of knowing that I am absolutely in the right place, doing the right thing, to be healthy and strong.

I’m not quite sure what my “advanced” course looks like these days.  Will I ever try to run another half marathon?  Who knows.  It seems awfully crazy to me right now, I’ll be honest.  For me, I may just be one of those continuing “General Studies” majors who goes on to sample everything – and that would be okay.  But for now, I’m going to put in my time on the Foundations.  I’m going to commit to running a few times a week, and to cross-train on the off days – and like any good Freshman, I’m going to plan for some party time.

And as Foundations go, that’s good enough for me.

 

See you on the path!

 

Oct 31

11 Comments

The quiet return

I was out running on Sunday.

Yep. Just stop, for a moment, and savor with me the awesomeness of that statement.

Can you feel it?

There was a little flutter as I started that old routine. Capris. Shirt. Hat? No hat. Favorite socks. Those new running shoes I bought in July? Yep. Time to bust them out. Double knot. Where’s my ID? Cash? Keys? Lock it up. Start the timer. Five minute warm-up, walking up the hill.

Those people on the street don’t know how long it’s been. They can’t see the ten years I ran before ever getting hurt. And the two years of slogging and fixing to get back. Chin up, girl. Chin up. Rounding the corner by the tube, and it’s gorgeous. There are fall leaves just waiting to swirl around my steps. Okay, so it’s a six minute warmup. I’m waiting for the path.

And then I’m across the road, and I want to run, but I’m smart. Two years of an empathetic but instructional running doc and physio – two years with guys who taught me smart rehab – and 8 years of time with great running coaches, and I know enough to start this one on a walk. So I walk. There’s soft, just barely wet ground under my feet. A well-worn running path circles Clapham Common and it’s kindly telling me to take my time. Step where I want. There’s no crown to manage, no branches to avoid.

And then, that little magic watch does its thing. And I’m running again. Only two minutes to start. The stride is the same – or is it? Step lighter? Maybe a little. Maybe it’s the 25 pounds gone that makes it seem simpler. But it’s cautious too. Roll through the toe, push off. But pace the breathing, just like old times – breathe in in time with each step – one, two three (in, in, in), one two (out, out)…wondering now how I have the stamina even for that, having not seen a run in 9 months. How is that possible?

And then it’s merciful beeping. Turns out, just as challenging as it should be. The common is busy with people getting yelled at – by soccer coaches, by parents, by drill-camp instructors who make me, just for a moment, miss my running coaches. I round through the gazebo, checking my watch (I’m running again) and head for home. After all, there’s only 30 minutes on today, with 5 warm up and 5 cool down. I resist the urge to beat up on myself. It’s 30 minutes more than I’ve done in a long time.

I motor back through the park towards the tube. It’s thinking about raining now, but I don’t care. I have a red face, and that hair that’s always in my eyes – but hasn’t been a problem for awhile (because how bad is it when you’re sitting still?) is suddenly real annoying.

I trek home, stopping for water. As I turn into my apartment and stop for a stretch, my watch keeps beeping. For the next 20 minutes, as I putter and putz, it beeps at me, every 3 – then every two minutes. It’s a quiet, but insistent reminder of the celebration a long time coming.

I turn off the watch, and think for a minute of the countless weekends I’ve spent in the last ten years, doing just this. Sailing through a park on heavy feet – but with some of the best friends I could ask for. I miss them today, but today life is uncomplicated and happy. I ran. It didn’t hurt. I’ll do it again.

Sometimes, the simple joy in grasping that one thing just out of reach is more powerful than anything you could have imagined.

See you on the path.

Oct 7

3 Comments

Chicago Marathon 2011: Fired up to follow your friends?

Hey kids -

It’s that time again – my favorite weekend of the year in Chicago.  Alas I’m not there this season, but you can be to cheer on your family and friends at their big day.

Follow this link to the 2009 Marathon spectator guide which I threw together – just cross-reference to make sure the map is still the same for 2011 (I believe it will be fairly close, as there are few changes year to year).  And remember the rules of spectating:

1) Wear layers.

2) Be prepared to help anyone you see! Water, gatorade, pretzels, aspirin, and bodyglide are all welcome. If it’s hot, pack a cooler with ice for your runner!

3) Great signs make runners feel like you’re there just for them – add some eye contact and they’ll smile for just a minute.

4) Noise is what you need in the slow spots – after 19th Street, especially.

Good luck to all running!!!

Sallie

 

Sep 1

7 Comments

Ode to Joy

Last night I had the marvelous opportunity to go listen to the BBC Orchestra play Beethoven’s 9th Symphony at Royal Albert Hall in London.  A very kind colleague had heard me mention that I wanted to go, and when an opportunity arose, he extended the invite.  I was thrilled to spend a great night sitting with he and his partner, listening to gorgeous music and that extravagant sound of a chorus belting out the tune we know as the Ode to Joy.

We walked to the show, and covered a variety of topics in our hour long trek from the office.  As I told my mother last night, I knew I’d officially become a Londoner when my friend asked if I would mind walking (in my suit, from the office) and I not only said “no, I don’t mind” but I meant it!  More than that, I was prepared with my running shoes (though I quickly changed back into my cute girl shoes once we got close).  The other way I knew I’d done okay was that I really did enjoy the walk – and even though we arrived slightly “misted” – it was a perfect way to spend the night.

As I walked back to the Underground after the show, I was whistling the Ode the whole way.  It was the second day in a row, you see, that I’d had a wonderful walk in the park – and I’d be lying if I didn’t say those endorphins weren’t making themselves known.

So it should come as no surprise that tonight, when I turned up for my first “training” consultation at the local gym, I was still in a decent (if slightly nervous) mood.  An hour and change later, with our initial intake done, and the initial workout done, I’m still smiling.

So what is it exactly?  What is it about the prospect of a committed program for the next twelve weeks that has me giddy as a kid?

Well, for me, it’s a few things.  First, not to state the obvious, but I’d forgotten how amazing a workout is for your mental state.  Just this week, the New York Times reminded us of this when they shared the results of a recent study that said that for those suffering from chronic depression, exercise is as effective as drug therapy.  If that isn’t an indicator of what exercise can do for you, what is?   Now, I wouldn’t claim that I’m in anywhere NEAR that kind of funk, but if it’s that good for those who are struggling, imagine what it does for those of us who are just okee doke?  I mean, by all rights we should be singing Odes everywhere we go (don’t worry, no singing, just whistling here.)

Second, I think it’s the prospect of having a plan to follow – as my assistant likes to say, “a proper plan”.  It’s knowing what I have to do when (with some flexibility) to get me to where I want to go.  It’s taking the guesswork out of the equation by knowing that I have someone to report to – and also knowing that this investment is going to eat up a decent chunk of my cash.  I’m putting my wallet where my ass is.  And I’m okay with that.  But, as my friends and business owners of Chicago Endurance Sports always knew, (that’s you Jenny and Mike) getting people to commit by signing up for a set time with a decent investment means people are less likely to blow off the training group.  Trust me – I know that when I’m paying for these sessions that I won’t be willing to let them die.  According to the Evening Standard tonight, I’ll be buying a trip to Ibiza every week to see my new friend Jason, and though he doesn’t sing and dance, I’m going to make the most of that time.

So I guess that’s it.  I’m excited to have a plan.  To invest in my health.  To make some good changes.  I know, I know – we’ve all seen or done this before.  But I’ve never – literally – NEVER – done the training thing with a personal trainer.  The closest I came was the great help and guidance (okay, and ass-kicking) my PT Joel gave me last year at Accelerated when I was rehabbing.  I had great rehab results with Joel, who pushed me farther than I knew I could go.  So maybe that’s it too – maybe I’m hoping with some encouragement and regular accountability, I’ll get back to a level of fitness I’m excited about.

I think that means, kids, that we start today.  So get ready for mind-numbing updates full of good cheer about the newest adventure.  I hope you’ll join me for this ride, and that you’ll be working along at home too.  And when 2012 knocks on our door, let’s all kick it down with our new bad selves, eh?

See you on the path ;)

p.s.  In case you’re curious, the following goals have been set:

1) Lose 25 pounds. (I have a date in mind, but let’s not share that).

2) Be strong enough to be ready to run once the 25 pounds is off (ideally by February)

3) Olympic distance triathlon in early spring of 2012

There’s more, but that’s a start. :)

 

 

 

 

Aug 22

3 Comments

The unbearable lightness of adventure

When was the last time you went out for a run and didn’t know the route home?  The last time you got on a bike and didn’t plan how far you’d go?  The last time you set off for an open water swim and didn’t know what the beginning, middle, and end would feel like?

Been awhile?   Unfamiliar with the feeling of getting lost?   Used to feeling like every workout is like an old episode of “Friends”, where you might not know the dialogue by heart, but you’re pretty sure Monica’s going to be anal retentive, Chandler’s going to make you spit milk out your nose, and Ross will make you glad you stopped dating that guy from the museum?  Yeah, I know.  If you’re a creature of habit, or you’ve been training for anything – and training close to home – the answer is probably “yes, it’s been awhile” – because we always advocate that you know exactly where you are, at all times on a run, on a bike, on a swim.  In today’s safety-conscious world, and particularly as  woman runners, we say “know your route” and “be prepared” and all that stuff.

But that means life can get pretty boring.  It can stop feeling challenging.  It can make you forget why you started getting active in the first place.

So every once in awhile, I like recommend something radical:  Do something so different, so challenging, that it makes you throw your playbook – if not out the window – at least to the back seat.

I did this last week, and though it was one of the most challenging vacations I’ve had in awhile, it was by far the most rewarding, as I returned to an active holiday with absolutely no pain and no issues.

I sneakily convinced a friend to join me in Wales for three days.  There, with the help of Anna from Drover Holidays, we had picked out a three-day-tour of the Brecon Beacons National Park – a gorgeous landscape of the Black Mountains and green hills that offered the Beacons Way – an 80+ mile path that runs through three distinct segments of the park.  We started with the day 1 hike up The Skirrid just outside Abergavenny.

Where’s the adventure, you ask?

Climbing to the top of "The Skirrid" on Day 1 of the Beacons Way.

Hiking in Wales should have been pretty easy for me – I mean, I’ve been hiking now since I was 18, thanks to my dad and stepmom, who introduced us to the joys of Buffet to Prevent Bear Attacks while wandering through the western US national parks.  But I’ve never – not once – hiked using a back-country permit, or hiked where I didn’t have a clearly marked trail laid out in front of me with cairns or markers every 20 feet.  I’m a bit of a wuss that way (and hey, Colorado isn’t a place you go off trail if you’re only hauling a day pack.)  But as I found out while researching this trip, hiking (or “walking” in the UK) is different here than it is in the states.

Unlike the states, here there is a principle which allows any person to cross anyone’s land in order to get to the next plot.  The Right to Roam allows right of access across open lands, moors, national park areas (which may include private property within park borders) and several other areas.  What that means, in practice, is that you can walk anywhere in England and Wales, as long as you’re carrying a good map and you’re on the recommended route.

But as we found out last week, the route is not quite what you might think.  That route might just tell you that there’s a gate in the North East corner of that one farm on your map – but the footpath might or might not be visible to get you there.  The next farm’s gate should be through those woods, and over a creek – but you’ll need to read your map closely and find your way carefully.  In short, you not only have to be able to read the map – but you have to be able to translate what you’re seeing with your eyes (and feeling with your feet) into what’s on the paper in front of you.

So for me, this was the first bit of the adventure that was truly new.  Though I’d orienteered a few times before (and thank GOD for Jenny’s map-reading class and for the orienteering day with the girls), this was truly putting my skills to the test.  Second, it required a level of concentration I’m not used to bringing to a hike! We had set out on the first day for a 10.6 mile endurance fest – up two small mountains, with a large valley (and many sheep) in between – and a descent that would bring weaker thighs to their breaking point at the 10 mile mark.  But for the mid-point of the trek, where we wandered through the valley – it was a great and refreshing challenge (ahem, with occasional cussing and much sheep shit) to find our way through the farms.

It was also refreshingly, delightfully, sweatily difficult going.  It was vertical in ways I hadn’t done in two years.  It was, however, also beautiful.  In ways I hadn’t seen in two years.

So what’s the big deal about adventuring? 

On the second ridge of the day after Hatterall Hill

Well, the simple answer is this: it’s about doing something you thought you might never be able to do.  And succeeding.  I guess this week, so long away from running, and so recently back from surgery, I was worried about whether I’d be able to take it.  Would I be able to do the mileage?  Would I be able to handle the demands?  We built in a day of cycling after the first day – 30 miles of slight climbs and one very long descent – but even the cycling had its moments of toughness on the heels of a massive day of hiking.  And yet, I did it.  My traveling buddy and I both lamented our dead legs – but they kept us going.  And the third day, when we called an audible on our planned route but still did about 10-12 miles of gorgeous hiking along the Talybont Reservoir, country lanes, and one gorgeous canal – we were both pretty happy that we’d been able to get it all done.

And the hidden point in all of it is this:  we hadn’t done any of these trips before.  We let someone else do the planning – and she handed us the maps, the route, and the gear (for the ride at least).  Anna was our tour master and by giving up the planning to someone else,  we took a risk.  But it was a comfortable risk, a calculated risk, and in the end, we had the trip we needed to test our limits but still have a fun time.  We were happy to head home at the end of three days with more than 20 miles of hiking and 30 miles of cycling under our belts.

And part of the test, part of the challenge – was not knowing exactly what we’d find over that ridge.  Would it be another false summit?  Another thigh-crunching uphill on the bike?  A descent that would test our faith in modern braking technology?  It was, as my friend put it, like being on a rolleroaster you’ve never ridden – wondering what’s around the corner.  It was the best, most unexpected fun we could have had as two adults roaming around the countryside.

So the lesson I think I’m sharing today is this:  find a way to take off the training wheels if you can.  Go find a completely new trail.  Go do something you’ve never – ever – considered before.  Oh sure, have a safety net.  Take your phone and tell someone where you’re going.  Take your water and all that jazz.  But just once in the next thirty days, consider going somewhere that makes you nervous.  Make your palms sweat and your conscience ask “are you sure?”  Because if you do it smartly (and you KNOW how to do it smartly), you’ll find that you absolutely can find what I found:  you’ve still got it.  You have that sense that you had as a ten year old that there are adventures around every corner, and things that will stop your breath with their beauty.  I found mine in wild ponies and heather moors, in centuries-old ruins and green paths on mile high ridges.  But you can find yours closer to home, if you only look.

A little heather for our journey....wide open space, and a view of the mountain we came from in the distance.

Find your local park.  Find your closest National Park.  Get on your boots.  And get out there.  It’s an adventure you simply won’t regret.

Sal

 

 

Aug 2

Endurance for Life

Just a quick update here on a late Tuesday in London. How are you all doing out there in training land? Are you counting down to your next race? Getting in lots of miles on your bikes? I hope you’re dealing with the heat of the States with a return to the pool – and being smart, too…

Here in London, it’s been a busy week. Last Monday I successfully navigated the ride to the office on my bike without getting killed (and only getting lost twice). Wednesday I took off for Sweden for work, and spent the weekend exploring beautiful Stockholm.

I must say that Stockholm was gorgeous – water everywhere and an incredible looking city – but the golf course we played on Saturday took the cake.

You might recall that in my former life, I played a bit of golf. In fact, I played a lot for awhile, until training took up my Saturdays. But lately, I’ve been off the course. So the chance to play in Sweden sounded super cool.

And play we did. I managed to hit the first few drives nice and straight, and even hit my irons well. And then, disaster! I realized rather quickly that the last time i had walked 18 holes, I was very poor and in much better shape. By the fifth hole, I was gasping to keep up with the boys (one of whom has about 8 inches on me, the other who rides his bike to and from work every day.) I was definitely behind.

And that was an okay thing. As my colleague pointed out, it was a great way to spend a Saturday – walking around a course, getting actual exercise, and having a good time. I wasn’t hitting the ball well, but I was sweating, and for the first time in awhile, I could actually claim that golf was a workout!!!

Saturday morning I was up early to explore the city – and by early, I mean “five hours after the sun came up” – I left the hotel at 9. And in a good 90 minutes, I walked about four miles, took dozens of photos, and worked up another good sweat – are you sensing a trend?

So, aside from the fact that I spent my weekend sweating through Sweden, I can honestly say it was what I needed – the chance to explore and enjoy it, and to remember that as always, anywhere new is best seen on foot (or, at worst, by boat!)

Here’s to exploring weeks, wherever you are!!!

Jul 24

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Where did THAT come from?

So I got on the scale yesterday and realized I’d lost about 15 pounds since moving to London in April.

If you’re like me, you might be asking how the hell that happened?  Was there Dexatrim in my wheaties?  Is Greek Yogurt really laced with some sort of fat-burning protein I’ve not heard of?  Am I sleepwalking through nights (that would explain why I’m never rested?).

Perhaps.  But the real revelation came when I was moving the “I brought these to London but I won’t wear them” clothes to the front room’s dresser (because they were borderline obscene sausage-fests when I tried them in April).  Turns out, on a whim, I threw on a pair of REI hiking pants that I had been mortified to try on (note, not KEEP on) in April – and they not only zipped, but they fit.  And looked decent.

What. The. Hell?

I’ll be honest kids – it’s been a bit bleak here.  I’m averaging some pretty long hours at the office, I’ve worked out once in the last six weeks, and my bikes just arrived ten days ago (they stare at me, balefully, from the living room, giving me a stink eye every time I download a book from Amazon with the excuse that the Left-hand drivers are going to run me over like the American tourist I am.)  I’ve been dogging it – only swimming once.

I also made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t run again until I had lost some weight.  Actually, quite a bit of weight.  Because as much as I know that my weight wasn’t the sole cause of the last year’s injury, I know it didn’t help.  So, no running.  Swam once.  No cycling.  What gives?

Well, here’s the thing about London – I have no car.  It’s a big city.  I walk everywhere.  Sometimes, I walk quickly.  Everything I do, suddenly, after about 8 years, is under my own steam.  And turns out, “under my own steam” burns some calories.

This is a good thing, right?  Well, yes.  For starters, I’ve noticed that because I run (er…I mean, hurry) down the left-hand side of all the tube escalators, I’m getting quads of STEEL people.  I land lightly, and my hips stay centered, and Joel my PT would be SOOOOO proud of how I’m transferring weight from one leg to the other!  (This is also a skill you can test by standing on one leg and trying to put on a sock without holding onto anything.  If you’re not successful, might I suggest descending some stairs – wide ones – regularly?)

Anyway, I think that this Tube tactic, combined with the fact that I’m just walking everywhere – is just really doing a little bit, each day, to help.  And who am I to complain?

Don’t get me wrong.  According to my standards, I still want to drop another 30 pounds before I run again (and yes, I’m serious as pie on Sunday).  But I’m feeling better about getting moving.

Anyway, that’s the update from here.  I’m sorry the posts have been sparse lately, but next week I’ll have internet service at my home again for the first time (with a computer that can keep up) since I moved here, and then we’ll be back in business.  For those who are new readers, thanks for stopping by – and those who have been with me all along, thanks for sticking by.

 

See you on the path -

Sal

Jun 27

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Inspiration Monday

Happy Monday kids!  I wanted to call today’s column Inspiration Monday because well, it’s a place we all know well.  Monday – also known as the day on which our dreams sometimes begin (and sometimes end) for our weeks of healthy activity, good eating, and finding life balance.

It all sounds so impossible sometimes, doesn’t it?  I say this as a woman who is currently sitting in a hotel room, working for the 10th hour in the day, about to go to a (I’m sure wonderful) working dinner with colleagues, which will terminate sometime before I begin sleeping in my soup.

But if I manage to stay awake, tomorrow morning, I’ll be cruising (early. very early) to get a glimpse of the Arch de Triumph or maybe just the Seine.  It’s a good life I’m in right now, and I’m looking forward to exploring Paris a bit on foot.

As many of you know (and are probably tired of hearing), losing a little bit of mobility has driven me to the slight edge of insanity over the past twelve months.  Arriving in London bike-less and unable to run, it’s been even harder for me to find that balance.  And yet, I found myself so very, very grateful these last few months just to have that simple act of walking become a part of my daily life again.  When I think of the joy of walking without pain – well, it makes me so much more aware of everything we stand to lose.

Do you ever wonder what it might be like to lose that mobility we all take for granted?  Does it ever seem unimaginable?  So it’s doubly hard, then to imagine what it must be like to have lost it – and found it again.

Today’s Health section in the NYTimes profiles one such athlete, John Carson, who was struck while training a few years back.  Diagnosed with a severed spine, he took his inspiration from Lance Armstrong, Grete Waitz, and Alberto Salazar, and committed to racing in whatever way he could, whether that meant wheel-chair, hand-cycle, or – as it currently does – on two legs he can’t quite feel.

He is, quite simply, an amazing man, with an amazing story.  And yet – keep reading.  Because somewhere in that brief summary by Tara Parker Pope is an athlete like the rest of us – (or some of the more dedicated ones we have known) who is now transitioning to find a quieter, more manageable way to fit training into his life.  He’s finding he has limits, and he’s going to work within them.  He’s done with Ironmans this weekend (I know, right?).  He’s going to spend more time with his wife, maybe start a family.  He’s going to go back to “average” training, and an “average” life.  But he’ll know what we all know – and sometimes just forget: that every day we have where we are healthy and able is a gift.  And that we should use it to the best possible means we have.

So get out there.  Go for a walk, or a swim, or just challenge your kid to a game of soccer.  Get sweaty and red-faced, and maybe even pull a muscle or two.  You’ll survive. Your body is built for it.  Take advantage of it.  And then say thank you.

See you on the path…..

 

Jun 14

4 Comments

Putting on your wetsuit: it’s not for sissies

I’ve been getting quite a few questions about wetsuits lately, and thought it would be helpful for those of you who don’t train in a group to see a demo of the best way to put on your wetsuit.

My best experience putting on a wetsuit is always at dawn on a beach somewhere, when no one else is around and the suit slides right on.  The worst are usually mid-morning, on a beach somewhere, when there’s an audience of non-athletes who are just trying to find ways to amuse themselves. 

Now, fair warning:  this model (provided to us by Xterra) seems to just slip right in to her suit.  I can honestly say that never, in my 12+ years of racing, have I “slipped in” to a wetsuit.  But she’s got the idea right.  It’s like pantyhose, only tighter. It’s like a hot, thick, pair of leather pants with a chubby liner.  Right.  It sounds appealing, doesn’t it?  Well, it’s not all bad.  Just remember the following tips before you try this at home:

1) Never, ever ever, ever ever do this when you’re hot and sweaty.  At least try to start from a position of cool, calm dryness.  If you can’t, well, just be prepared to be dripping when you’re done.

2) Consider using Body Glide around your ankles to help with the on/off of legs (I glide up the back of my calves).  You can also use something called “Suit Juice” which is a godsend if you can find it. 

3) Body Glide the underside of your arms (the part that lays flat against the rubber by your bra) if you’re wearing a sleeveless suit. 

4) Body Glide the back of your neck where the suit ties up – this is especially true if your suit is a bit big on top (as mine is because I had to size up). 

5) Don’t get into your suit more than 30 minutes before your start.  Otherwise, it’s like a sausage-fest-bakeoff in the morning heat and you’ll have worked yourself into a hot state before getting in the water.  Put it off and then put it on.

6) Take one last bathroom break before getting in the suit.  Yep, didn’t think of that, did you?

7) If the suit is a bit short for you in the legs, that’s okay – the most important part of hte fit is to not have a gap underneath your crotch.  Pull the legs up if you must, but if there’s space between the suit and your crotch (the low-rider syndrome), shimmy the suit up until it’s even, and then test by connecting the back closure.  If the suit is pulling on you in the front, try to adjust, swim in it once for testing, and decide if it’s the right size for you.

That’s it from here.  Enjoy the video.  I’d put one up of me doing it, but I just can’t afford the hassle of becoming the wetsuit pinup model :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL7iJcOuBo0

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