The Kleenex people know this.  But if they were really smart, they wouldn’t only make those pocket packs for weddings.  They’d make them for Finish Lines.  Becuase if there’s one place that you can rest assured you’ll see some tears, it’s at the tail end of any half marathon, triathlon, and even a few 5ks.

I know, because I’ve been that person. The first time I finished a Sprint triathlon, I cried.  I remember rounding the corner, and thinking “Oh my God that was hard, but there’s the finish, and you just DID this!”  I crossed the finish line, dropped my hands to my knees, tried not to pass out, and cried.  Then I threw up, but that’s another story.

The first time I finished a half marathon (the Indy  Mini), I cried, too.  The whole last mile, I was trying to keep it together.  I’d never done anything like this – never trained, never stuck with it, never been so proud of actually completing something I said I was going to do.  I was a Big Girl with no willpower (at least that’s what I’d been told for years, subtly or otherwise).  And yet, LOOK!  I could do THIS! I could run for 13 miles, and finish smiling???  If that wasn’t worth tears, I don’t know what was.

So the question is, is there a time and a place for getting emotional?  You bet.  And it’s on the course.  But if you do find yourself amazed and proud, and just a little overwhelmed in that last mile, take it from me: you still have to breathe!  Crying can wreck that breathing mojo, so if it happens to you, just take some breaths, smile, and think of something positive.  Regulate your breathing as best you can, until you get it under control…and then put the hammer down.  You’ve worked too hard to hyperventilate at the finish line!

But once that tape is in your site, go ahead and let it go. Cry like a baby.  Smile through the tears, though, because it IS a happy day – and you’ve earned the right to enjoy it.

I’ll be looking forward to the laughs and the tears this Sunday, at the Rock n Roll Chicago Half Marathon.  I’ll be bike marshalling this year, so if you see a Big Girl on a bike, say hello, and introduce yourself!  I’ll be cheering for you, all the way!

See you on the path!

Danskin 7″ Triathlon Short – $48, available up to a Size 22 (essentially)

Just got a call from the most excellent client service representative at Danskin (Gina, thank you!) who has informed me that they’ve just received a shipment of their super-functional, wicking, great-fitting 7″ triathlon short. 

They have a limited stock, but there are about 150 of them in currently in a Size XXL, and another 300+ in an XL, so if you are looking for a short, check this one out.   REI, which previously had them in stock in an XXL and XL, is out of stock in this 7″ model, but still has the 5″ model in.

Click here to access the page on Danskin’s site (you cannot navigate there from the main site – there is a problem with the indexing on the online catalog, which is tech speak for “no one connected this short to the main page”).

If you need a suit and have been holding off, I’m a big fan of the sleeveless suit, and the price point is really good…

Enter the code SUMMER50 to get it going on.

I liked mini-golf a lot to begin with.  It had a clear beginning and end, and a purpose I could relate to – hit the ball in that hole (which was no more than 10 feet away.)  I also enjoyed that, in Cincinnati’s soup-like humidity, I could be outside, but not have to run around and get all pink-faced like I did when I played soccer.

But most of all, I liked the fact that I got to hit things indiscriminately.  Once I actually figured out what I was doing, I wasn’t really any good at golf, but I made contact enough to like it.  I’d pick up a rental club, stand over the ball, and whack at it.  Sometimes I made contact, sometimes I didn’t. 

My dad would stand behind me (mostly, immediately behind me) and offer insruction on how I could improve.  Never shy about my personal space, I’d let him get in a few comments before telling him he could stuff it and leave me alone.  How could I know that he was trying to teach me a sport I’d play for life?  I was a snarky 11 year old who knew better.  Please.

Of course, I never really aimed for anything.  Oh, sure, there were flags out there.  But I just needed to hit.the.ball.  I didn’t care where it went, because it wasn’t a part of anything larger for me.  I wasn’t playing for money, or keeping score of how many times I hit the green.  In fact, I usually wanted to get out of there as fast as I could because I wasn’t nearly as good as those people around me, and who needs to prolong THAT kind of misery?   

Turns out, when I finally did get around to playing on a real course, I wasn’t much good.  All I had really learned to do was make contact.  I didn’t know how to avoid the trees down the right side of the fairway, or to modulate the distsance on a shot.  And I didn’t really care for the fact that it didn’t come easy to me.  I think, before I turned 18, I played only one real round of golf with my dad.  And then I didn’t play again until I was 24.

Only then, when I was getting back into the sport with some seriously fun friends, did I learn the key to practicing:  aim for something.  All the time, I’d go to the driving range at Diversey here in Chicago, and see these guys, winding up like 30-year-old versions of my punky 10-year-old self.  They’d just pound the ball wherever, and never give any thought as to where it was going.  Which is great, if you’re just angry.  But if you’re actually trying to accomplish something, you’ve got to learn how to aim.  An instructor once told me that going to the range to practice was absolutely useless, unless every single time I got over the ball, I aimed for a flag.  With golf, you can concentrate a lot, or a little.  Sometimes, you can get so wrapped up in the grip, or your stance, that you forget to aim.  You forget what you’re trying to accomplish.  And sometimes, you don’t even have the grip or the stance to blame.  Sometimes, you just stand over the ball, and fire. 

But that’s not the way to become a better golfer.  To do that, you have to aim every time.  And then you’ve got to learn finesse.  You’ve got to check your fundamentals.  You’ve got to learn what makes a ball shank to the left or slice right, and what small, simple changes can impact your entire game.  In short, you’ve got to become a student of the sport. 

That’s a lesson I think we can easily apply to training for any event, whether it’s your first 5k, or your fifth triathlon.  You see, when you first start training for triathlons (for example), you think that it’s all about getting in the miles.  You’ve just got to pound out a half mile in the pool.  Who cares if you’re efficient? You don’t want to drown.  Then, there’s the bike.  Most of us are simply concerned with making sure we don’t get a flat…and that we can actually remove a water bottle from our rack and not end up on YouTube while doing it.  Small goals, right?  Even with the run, at first, all you care about is having the legs to wrap up a 10k after a 26 mile bike, and a mile swim.  You don’t care about pacing or strategy.  You can’t focus on technique, because you’re too worried about baseline fitness, and not dying out there.

But after awhile, you realize something important:  when you’re just getting in the pool, day after day – or on your bike, because that’s what the schedule calls for, you’re not really doing yourself any favors.  Yes, you’re learning how to pound the ball (figuratively speaking), but are you learning how to aim for the flag?  Are you paying attention to the feeling in your chest when you push it too hard on your swim?  Are you doing the drills that will make you more efficient, or are you just clocking time?  Do you know whether or not you’re wasting energy as you haul yourself down the lane, day after day?  And on the bike, are you still operating on the same gear you’ve been on since day one, or have you ever figured out how to really climb a hill?  Have you learned how to change that flat so it doesn’t ruin your race?  Or are you still at the range, firing away, hoping that things will come together?  

These journeys we take are important.  They have the opportunity to let us become more aware of our bodies, our capabilities, and yes, sometimes our limits.  But they also give us the chance to expand our body of knowledge – to truly learn something more about the sports we’re trying, and to take those skills into other areas.  When I learned how to change a tire on my bike (which didn’t happen until the Chicago Endurance Sports Triathlon Training in 2003, a full FOUR years after I started doing triathlons), it rocked my world.  I went from having a panic attack every time I saw glass in the road to knowing that I would be able to help myself – and others – whenever I needed it.  It also gave me a whole new world to ride in, because I was no longer limited to taking rides with other people, in the city, where a cab or a friend could come and get me if I flatted out.  Suddenly, I was free to ride wherever I wanted.  And that meant I could ride hills, and practice my cadence, and feel what race day would feel like – and that, that was very, very cool. 

You, too have the ability to build your skills, and learn more about yourself, and your sport.   But you have to consciously think about what you want to accomplish when you go out, every day.  Yes, there will be days when you just want to pound away, with no goal in mind.  But mostly, there will be something you can learn, something you can accomplish, as you’re becoming an expert in your sport.  I call it Aiming for the Flag.  It’s a simple concept, but one that can help you sustain your enthusiasm for the sport long after your first race is done.  Because when you become an expert (and here’s the kick) it gets easier.  You can make those adjustments to stay on course, to save energy, and to hit your targets.  You just need to focus on them to get there.  

So next time you go out for a run, or a swim, or a bike ride, think about what you’re really trying to get out of the day.  Pick one thing – just one – and pay attention to it.  Think about your swimming form, or how you feel on hydration on the bike, or how you can get the most power from your ride.  Pay attention.  And pick a small goal, for every session, to keep you focused.

I promise you, the rewards you see will make that little bit of patience, that little bit of finesse, worth your while.

See you on the path…

This blog is about ‘moving more when there’s more to move.’ I know a little bit more about that now as I complete my ninth month of pregnancy as what I like to call ‘Plus Baby.’

I was initially tempted to use this opportunity as guest-author to dispel all the nonsense I’ve heard throughout pregnancy while trying to maintain my fitness. Despite full consensus in the medical community that exercise and running (yes, running) is safe to sustain (not train!) during low-risk pregnancies, there is still much public misperception about what a pregnant gal can or should do. What’s even more counter to popular wisdom is that pregnancy is a known performance enhancer. That’s why it’s been a controversy in the Olympic community for years as a way (aka ‘abortion doping’) to gain competitive edge.

But as I listed out all the hog-wash and myths that I’d love to debunk as someone who has earned her right to be a little snarky after 34 weeks of tuning out the haters, I had a revelation: a few days ago while reclined with a book, as inactive as ever, my unborn son decided to give me a one-two punch from the gut. After saying a few choice words that will soon retire from my mommy-vocabulary, I have to admit I felt immediate pride—“That’s my boy! Strong. Healthy. Ready to BRING it!” And that’s when I decided to ditch my plan to unload pragmatic information and instead focus on the inspiration of a most obvious insight: we are born to move.

What’s more—our bodies  are designed to do bad-ass things, like skipping, hopscotch, jumping rope, climbing Everest and breaking boundaries. From the time when each of us is kicking in the womb we are physically declaring: ‘I am alive and I’m a force to be reckoned with.’

So, 20, 30, 40 years later, why is it so hard to keep kicking? Now that I’m Plus Baby I can testify that exercise is no joke when there is more to move. Every motion requires more from us than, say, when we were 26 pounds lighter. Yet, running (sometimes wogging) through 8 months of pregnancy has taught me that we can do it. Here are a few thoughts for those who want to help change public perception of what is possible for ANYONE that doesn’t look like Dean Karnazes and/or need a born-again kick in the butt:

• Act like a BABY. A fierce baby. A baby that says, ‘Heck, yeah, I’ve got legs! Heck, yeah, I’ve got arms!’ Be impressed with all your 2000 body parts. Just think about how far you came in those first 40 weeks of life? What could you accomplish in 40 weeks now? With an Ipod. With awesome gear. Without being tied to your mother.
• Listen and trust your BODY above all else… This is what really defines an athlete—the ability to be completely in-tune with the body’s performance. I intentionally haven’t checked my heart rate once since I was 7 weeks pregnant—doctor’s orders—but I know faster than any Garmin when I need to let my split time dive. Learn to listen carefully and it will tell you everything you need to know.
• …but mind your MIND. This is where our limits live, if we let them. The mind loves slippery slopes—rationalizations about why we CAN’T. But if we wield this internal voice as THE greatest means for connecting with our bodies, it will take us further than we thought possible. Learn to negotiate with your mind like you’re a teenager again and it’s Friday night. (One. More. Minute. One. More. Mile.)
• Get going now to catch the Sustain Train. If you’re planning to have kids anytime in the next 1-2 years, now is the time to get to the place you want to be when you start pregnancy. Because once you’re Plus Baby, the focus is on sustaining fitness, not training. It’s like baking a cake using only the ingredients you already have in the house. Whatever routine you’re in when that second pink line appears, guess what? That’s the cake you’re going to eat a lot of for many months to come. Give yourself a due date to stock your pantry now unless you really like the taste of flour.
• Embrace the naysayers. Let their skepticism fuel your tank. Revel in the funny looks and quirky smirks that reveal their profound confusion about how you’re defying gravity. Smile. Kick up a little dust behind you. And if you really want to blow their mind, tell them you just did a Kegel. (This last point is even more effective if you’re a dude.)
• When in doubt, choose sanity over vanity. We all know great shoes and bra are a must. Everything else is just ‘icing’ on the cake: matching and cuteness are overrated. Don’t fall for the ideological Kelly Ripp-off. Sure, who doesn’t appreciate a coordinated outfit? But am I going to let a little spit-up and baby funk on my gear stand in the way of a great run? N-O. I’m actually hoping it will buy me some extra space on the path. So, if the only reasonably clean gear that fits are your hot pink running shorts and puke-green army tank, rock them like Rainbow Brite. (Trust me, you will still look a million times more together than our dear friends in the post-natal group.)

The bottom line: the benefits of getting and staying active now and if you plan to become pregnant are countless, including:

-          Greater self-confidence

-          Increased energy

-          Sanity! Less stress

-          Less weight gain (for those hot mom jeans)

-          Less rapid weight gain (no/less stretch marks!)

-          Better sleep and circulation

-          Easier delivery and recovery after baby or other Major Life Event

Sure, I’ll be giving myself this same ‘made to move’ pep talk when I’m a sleep-deprived zombie talking to my breast pump—but let’s make a pact: on the days when we’d much rather climb back into bed and assume the fetal position, let’s throw back the covers, put a spring in our step and remind ourselves: we were born to do this.

I’ve been watching the temps rise, and trying to plan a day to get back in the lake.  Though it’s merely a mile from my house, I wanted to take advantage of the Ohio Street Beach, from which a nice 1/2 mile stretch of water runs next to Lake Shore Drive and offers a straight shot of swimming in a protected cove (with a 5′ depth the entire way).  It’s also watched over by lifeguards, which means it’s safe, too. 

I haven’t been in the pool yet this spring/summer. For one reason or another, I just haven’t been working in the swim workout, and as this week approached, I was wondering if starting off in the lake was the right way to go.

See, this week officially began my training for the Chicago Triathlon.  Oh, did I not mention that?  Yeah. I got a little ambitious a few weeks back and decided that the only way to stay active this summer was to put the Olympic back on my schedule.  So Monday began the schedule (borrowing heavily from last year’s) to get me ready for the distance.  That included an 800M time trial on Thursday.

I enjoy swimming after work, and Thursday was no exception (except that I needed to jet to Book Club after. Slight overschedule).   As I arrived at the beach, I pulled on the wetsuit with a minimum of fuss (and noted that when you have a suit that fits you, there’s far less walrus-wrestling).  It was the first time I had swam in this new suit, an Xterra that I bought last year at the end of the season.  This one has sleeves (I had also bought a sleeveless, but thought the sleeves might be a good option for 68 degree water).  Turns out, the sleeves were probably overkill – AND they required quite an adjustment for me.

I set my watch and wandered into the lake, surprised at how nice the temp was.  Two guys coming out were smiling like kids who just got out of school early.  “It’s great, right?” the one guy said to me.  I nodded. “I can’t believe it’s this warm – in JUNE!”  We were so excited because, as veterans of Lake Michigan swimming, we knew it was usually mid-July before it was this warm.

Turns out, the water being warm didn’t give me superhuman strength, though.  As I got started swimming, my arms felt like lead, and I couldn’t seem to keep my hair from getting caught in the velcro in the back of my suit (even though I had a swim cap on).  My goggles were leaving bruises on my eye sockets, and I simply couldn’t find my mojo.

After 4 minutes, I stopped and stood up.  I didn’t have the heart rate monitor on, but I knew I was working too hard, and needed to slow it down.  So I channeled a little U2 and began humming on the exhale, my equivalent of the “talk test” in running.  Yes, this was a “time trial”, but I also needed to get through a half a mile.  That meant slowing down.

So slow down I did.  After awhile, the arms got a little better, and I even remembered some of the form lessons I learned last season.  I made it through a quarter mile in a molasses-like 14 minutes, turned around, and headed back. 

It was not an “A” day.  And I’ll admit, I was pretty mad at myself.  For most of those ten minutes heading back in, I was giving myself a drubbing.  “Why haven’t you been in the pool?”  “What’s so important about work that you’re not making time?” “Why not make time for THIS, the best sport for you?’  It’s been awhile since I kicked my own ass that much.  But you know what?  It didn’t help.  As I got closer to the finishing point, I was even more dejected than when I started.  And I had just swum almost a half a mile, having not been in the pool since January.  Nothing hurt, nothing was broken, and I was fine.  Yes, I was slow, but I was getting it done. 

And that’s what I started to tell myself. 

See, we all have different paces to our journeys.  I generally like to give myself credit for doing ANYTHING active, and try to stay away from the self-flaggelation.  But Thursday night, I was really mad at myself, and it was okay, too, to look inside and realize it doesn’t have to be this hard.  I can make better choices, and plan realistically, and work in working out as much as I want.  But what I really ended up telling myself was this:  I had a lot of choices on Thursday.  I could have stayed at work late.  I could have left and went straight to meet the girls at book club.  I could have skipped them both and went home and sat on the couch.  But I took the path I had planned, and I got in the lake, and I swam. 

It’s only one night, but more than ever, I was reminded of John Bingham’s great mantra: the miracle isn’t that I finished, but that I had the courage to start.  On Thursday night, having been away from the pool for awhile, and seriously, seriously wanting to quit so many times, I hung onto that statement.  I kept swimming until the beach touched my feet again, and when I got out, I was smiling.   And it wasn’t about my 30 minute time trial.  It was because against all indications to the contrary, I had prioritized that one night of moving, and felt better for it.

So I guess this week’s lesson is this:  there are days when training and being active may not be as easy, or as convenient, or as rewarding, as we might expect.  It’s the law of averages.  Hard days are part of the game.  But they’re always good for you, in ways you can’t begin to comprehend until you’ve gone through them.

So that’s it from here.  Keep training, keep dropping me lines, and keep your chin up. 

See you on the path!

A few quick notes here, and then I’m punting you over to Plus Athlete for the Little Red report!

I was lucky enough to spend this weekend in Utah, taking part in the Little Red Riding Hood Ride with fellow blogger Diane, and riding friends and all around cool women Jeannie, Kym, Karen, and others.  The weekend was a total hit, but I wanted to share a few key finds that might help you ride this summer!

First, serious props go out to my LBS (local bike shop) On The Route here in Chicago.  They packed and shipped my baby Trek without problem, and the folks in Logan who put her back together at Sunrise Cyclery rock, too.  If you’re looking for the epitome of great technicians with a flair for the helpful, these are your guys. 

Second, I had the good luck to run into the reps from Born Fit (based in Denver) who make maternity AND general fitness clothing.  They were displaying at Little Red, and shared the really good news that they’re now producing running, walking, and general fitness apparel up to a size XXL.  I can’t say this enough: their stuff is cute, it’s functional, and it works for pregnant women, so I’m pretty sure they’re going to do just find in the Plus market!  Take care to watch the size charts, but if you’re looking, I would recommend checking out their lines, especially their capris and short sleeved tops for summer.

Finally, good news from Chicago – the weather’s been so good, the lake temp is up to a balmy 65 degrees, which means this week, you should expect a report from me on triathlon training – and my first open water swim of the season.  I’ll keep you posted on whether I lose feeling (or, I should say, when.)

See you on the path!

I spoke with a rep from Danskin today, and they are not going to have new stock in, and available online, until at least July.  (They’ll call and let me know when it’s live). In the meantime, GOOD NEWS.  REI is stocking the 7″ Triathlon short in a Size XXL online ($48) , and you can order it now.   It comes in plain black, or, if you prefer a shorter inseam (5″), you can get it in a Black/Aqua combo in an XL or XXL as well.

If you are planning a later season race, I would suggest that you purchase your shorts now if you can.  These are fantastic training shorts, and they can usually fit up to a Size 20/22 (depending on where you carry your weight.)  The folks at Danskin let me know that REI is the only group carrying this stock, so if you want in, you’ll have to go to REI to get it.

I know you’re thinking “Wow, do I really have to spend $48 for a pair of shorts?”  The short answer is no, you don’t.  But your life will be much easier if you do.  You can wear these puppies in the swim, on the bike, and on the run, and you never have to change clothes. The legs have silicone grippers, so they’ll stay put.  The fabric is quick dry with flat seams, and is comparable to what you’d get with the Big Boys, Zoot and Tyr.  And the 7″ inseam is modest without being crazy long.

You may also notice that REI is stocking the Skirt Sports Tri short in an XXL as well.  My professional (er, non-professional) opinion is that the Danskin short is a better fabric, construction, and all around better short than the Skirt Sports option.  SkirtSports is trying valiantly to serve the larger market, but unfortunately, their materials and design just aren’t up to my standards.   Simply put, you’re not getting $60 worth of shorts with their design.

As for Danskin, I’m a big supporter of these shorts.  After years of trying to wear Men’s TYR shorts and looking for something with a better fit, I found these.  I wore them last year and am a Raving Fan about how well they work.  So if you need shorts, go get em.

See you on the path!

UPDATE!!!!  As of 7/7, Danskin has received their shipment!  Check here for details!

These days, I’m a little more precise.  After realizing that the “finish time” actually includes those eight minutes spent in Transition, I try to make sure I have everything organized and laid out before I ever get to the race.  It keeps me steady on race morning, and lets me settle in the night before (well, at least I can try).  So what’s the organizing principle?   Simple: there’s the Night Before. And The Morning Of.  Or something like that. 

The Night Before

The night before any race – especially your first – you might take one of two approaches.  Maybe you’re a Fly By – as in Flying By the Seat Of Your Bike Shorts – kind of guy or girl.  Maybe you think “I’ll get up in the morning and throw some stuff in a bag, and that will be that”.  And maybe that will work for you.  But for me, I like having a plan, and even more, I like having a list of things to check off.  As someone said in a meeting this week, I put the “A” in “Type A”.  Read into that what you will, but the bottom line is that I don’t like surprises on race morning. 

The Night Before then, is about prepping the race bag, and the car (if necessary) and the food, and the bike.  I designed the attached checklist to summarize the things I usually do when getting ready, and you’ll see it’s broken down into a few areas (Head, Body, Feet, Food, Bike, Car, and Timing).   It might make more sense to think about things as you’ll need them in the course of a race, in which case, you’ll have to read between the lines!

The basic thing to remember about the night before is this: if it’s your first race, you’re going to be nervous.   If it’s your twelfth race, you’re going to be over-confident.  In both cases, a checklist helps you remember the little things that will, otherwise, slip your mind.

After doing races for so long, of course, this list is built to suit ME. You might not need all this stuff. Indeed my friend Lisa, a master of efficiency, can show up with NONE of this and still kick my ass.  The other key to remember is that you don’t NEED all this stuff to race well.  All you really need is your body, some clothes that let you do your thang, and the basics: a bike, goggles, and running shoes.  In most cases, the rest is there if you need it.  So don’t get psyched out.  Just know what kind of race you’re running, and prep accordingly.

The Day Of

Race mornings can be a little bit much.  I’ve literally RUN to Transition before (Wendy’s Triathlon, forgot to put gas in the car, forgot my watch, lost my chip, and walrus-ed into a wetsuit in a not-so-attractive manner before stumbling into the start).  And I’ve been two and a half hours early for my start (every Chicago Triathlon I’ve ever done, because Transition is such a challenge and you have to be there early when there are 7,000 racers getting ready).  

But what if you’ve never done one of these? What should you expect on race morning?  Truthfully, that’s a whole other (very fun) post. But for now, you should remember the basics:  it’s like any other early-morning workout. You’re going to need your gear, and your fuel.  Make sure you have them in order, and make sure you get your stuff set out in Transition, and you’ll be fine.  I’ve added a few basic tips to the checklist (pack a fuel bag the night before; lay out your stuff in Transition on a towel so you can see it – but not a beach towel, people, a hand towel) but mostly it’s just a trigger for you to make sure you’re not missing anything.

If you do forget something, don’t hesitate to ask around.  Most seasoned athletes pack backups – backup tubes, backup goggles, backup saline.  I’ve given out all three in Transition on race morning, and always gotten them back. 

In the end, this preparation will maybe save you some time.  But it really only works if you practice your Transitions during your training session.  Yes, that means running up to your stuff, wet and out of breath, and finding out what works best for YOU.  Practice a few times (at your race site, even if you can) and you’ll find that after a few attemps, you’ll get smoother at getting out of your wetsuit, putting socks on wet feet, and running through Transition in your bike shoes. 

Here then, is your checklist – use it, save it, trash it, or change it – whatever works for you.  And in the end, just remember, it’s not this kind of preparation that determines whether you finish – it’s all that other training you’ve done – on the bike, in the pool, and on the path. 

PlusRunner Tri Checklist

See you out there.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot these last few weeks, as I just moved into a new apartment.  It’s a “walk up” which means to get to the third floor, semi-palatial estate (let’s be real, it has air conditioning, which makes it semi-palatial), I have to actually walk up 3 flights of stairs.  Every time I want to go home, that’s the requirement.  Three flights.  Every time I buy something, order something, or simply finish a day with my 15 pounds of work stuff, it’s 3 flights.  Those three flights don’t seem like much, but I couldn’t help but think of that Fit to Live concept again on Friday evening, when I returned home to find my spanking new Adirondack chair from Land’s End – parked just outside the front door and not, to my disappointment, next to my third-floor door.

As I hauled the slightly awkward box up the three flights (I did have to stop once), I found myself really irritated.  I was sweaty from the walk home from the train.  Then I was sweaty again as I hauled the box up the stairs.  The packing weight was a mere 42 pounds.  But it came in a box that was 3′ x 4′ x 1′ (at least) which meant for somewhat tough going.  Alas, I prevailed.  But I couldn’t help think “this should be easier”.

Also this weekend, I took a nice long bike ride along our lakefront path. When I returned, some 16 miles later, I needed to haul the road bike up the back stairs (in my bike cleats, which was hysterical).  The bike weighs in somewhere around 17 pounds, so you can imagine, it was easier.  But my heart was still beating faster, and my legs let me know they had been used quite a bit that day.  And in the end, I couldn’t stop asking myself the question:  “Am I fit to live?” 

The simple answer is: I don’t know.  Over the years, I’ve discovered that I have great reserves when it comes to endurance running, cycling, or swimming.  I can hike for miles, and though it’s challenging, I know I can do it. But, in direct proportion to my weight, I’ve never had any delusions of being speedy at any of these tasks.  I’ve been a long distance girl, to be sure.  And the thing with emergencies – and, with life – is that they’re not all long-distance kind of things.  

Does my failure in the world of anaerobic excellence mean that I’m not strong? Certainly not.  Could I deadlift my own weight out of, say, the Tennessee River?  (Hypothetically, this might have had to happen at one point in my past).  No, I most certainly could not.  (But I could have swam my way out of it, to be sure.) 

And what about wandering around – just simple wandering?   My friend and I were walking around Michigan Avenue a few weeks ago, one night after work.  My right foot (the one with the annoying plantar fasciitis I’ve been working to heal) was bothering me, and as we walked to dinner (me with the 20 pound computer bag on my shoulder), I was wishing I’d worn better shoes.  I was cranky and it was only the steak ahead that kept me moving.  The foot hurt, from something as simple as shopping.  Now THAT’s annoying.  And yet, it was only the pain that was a problem, not any kind of shopping endurance.    It wasn’t an anaerobic weakness that felled me there, just a pain problem.

For many of us, though, something as simple as climbing three flights of stairs instead of one flight is a big deal.  Running across a street to beat a light is tough.  Digging a hole for that new fence makes us sweat.  Shoveling a sidewalk can be annoyingly difficult.  Some of this is to be expected.  Work makes our heart race, and our bodies sweat.  And sometimes we don’t like that feeling.  So we shy away from it, and take a seat, or a ride, or pay someone else to do the hard work for us.  And in doing so, we continue down a path that involves a lot less work, and a lot less of what I call cross-training for life.

Here’s the catch, though.  We all know we have the ability to train our bodies for this kind of demand, too.  Many of you are dedicated runners and triathletes, and you have incredible reserves of strength and character.  But maybe, just maybe, you’re like me – and you take the easy way out when it comes to everyday life sometimes. 

That can change.  You can make a promise to start small – by doing your own yardwork,  or by getting friendly with your stairs.  (After four weeks in the new place, walking up three flights is so much easier than it was when I started, I’m actually kind of amazed).  And you can keep doing it by looking for simple ways to get more activity in.  Can you walk to the store, or bike?  Can you walk up the stairs to the train, instead of the escalator?  Can you, once in awhile during your run, run for a block just a bit faster than you normally would?  Yeah, you probably can.  And if you can’t do it all, today, you will, if you just start focusing on it, a little bit at a time.

So I guess my advice today is this: don’t take the easy way out.  Find the equivalent of your third-floor walkup, and test yourself on it regularly.  Accept that it’s okay to struggle with the anaerobic activities of life, but think about challenging yourself on more of it.   Work to fill in the non-endurance fitness side of your life.  Trust me, you’ll feel stronger, and healthier, and more ready for whatever comes next.

See you on the path -