Someone Else's Race

Three weeks from today, right now, I'll be celebrating the finish of my 9th marathon in Albuquerque, NM.

Yesterday, I ran a 5K.

If there's anything I've told the people who've asked me about getting in to running over the years, it's that you can't expect to see fast results.  Unless you're genetically predisposed to an elite-level endurance and lithe, lean body (and kind of if you're a guy- they really are divinely "made" to run since they're supposed to be hunting for dinner) it might take a minute or two to see some progress in running.  You can add to your 'handicap' if you're starting out at a less than optimal running weight, if you've had kids (things change all up in there thanks to those little boogers), and if you lead a lifestyle that is naturally more sedentary than you'd care for.  You can also expect to see little or no progress if your commitment level is mediocre or less- running is fickle.  Three days of good workouts can be completely erased by two weeks of "too busy".  Once again, unless you're one of the lucky ones who can throw on some shoes and crank out an Ultra while barely breaking a sweat, deciding to have some running goals is largely dependent on your level of commitment.  Not unlike getting a puppy.

That's why people quit before they really get to see what their bodies are capable of.

What I found out, early in my own running, was that progress seemed elusive.

I remember slogging along on a treadmill, barely able to keep a 12 minute mile pace for five minutes, just wishing for the day that I could run three miles without stopping.  I even wrote that down on a list of goals I found in some old journals I went through a couple of weeks ago.  I remember feeling completely spent after the first 10K I did, and how disappointed I was that I walked a good portion of it.  I remember, at the end of my first marathon, how I questioned my own sanity and why anyone would knowingly subject themselves to so much pain and misery and was completely baffled by my immediate urge to do it again, and to do it better.

A couple of weeks ago, I got a note from my coach that there were going to be some coaching changes due to her schedule and current commitments.  I was a little miffed but also impressed that my coach's training group Mind Right Multisport discussed my training program and goals and paired me up with a new coach.  Funny thing, though.  He lives in New England.  Don't know him, he doesn't know me.

In my introductory conversation with him, I thought I heard an undertone of "you can't do this", sort of based on his questions and comments and what he had seen so far of my training.  "Yes, I know I'm slow," I told him.  I know I'm "slow" now.  I also told him that yes, Boston is the goal.  But that I have a realistic view of the goal.  If we spend a year or two working on ME, and I do everything I can to move the needle, and we get close but never make it- I'll be okay.  That I'm well aware that not everyone can get there.  I am okay with his doubt, because I am confident that I will know when I have hit my "arete", my elite.  I will know when I have given everything that I can give, and if it's not enough, then that's that.  But I'm not even close.

Yesterday was also the first time I was nervous toeing the line.  I'd tossed and turned all night, thinking about the way progress works for me in running.  It's a long dance of better and worse, and then one day my body decides it's capable of leveling up.  I know when I reach a new level that I'll be there for a while, slogging out the miles, until I see another big improvement.  This happened before I left New Mexico.  I was an 12-minute-mile runner for a VERY long time, and any longer distance included walking.  Then one day, 10s where in my wheelhouse and walking was out.  Before I left NM, I was easy with a 9:30 pace, really proud of that progress, could hold it for 7 or 8 miles pretty easily, and knew I still wasn't at my peak.  I ran my best 5K in 27:15 during this time.

So yesterday, I had convinced myself that a mark of my progress in training would be that I could PR in a 5K. I planned the race in my head, working out a 9:15, 8:50, 8:25 for a 26 minute finish. But I got nervous, and I got to talking with the lady next to me, and I took a position in the pack toward the front.  (Which I never, ever do.)  She was shooting for a 25 or 26, and I told myself that if I stuck with her I'd hit a PR.  My starting pace was 6:40.  I do not run 6:40.  I was sub-8 for almost 5 minutes and logged the first mile at 8:19.  I knew I was in trouble, and I was pissed at myself for forgetting everything I know about pacing yourself.  My next mile was 9:28 and my last, 10:06 for a finish time of 28:49.

The lesson was: do what you know.  Don't expect to run 7 minute miles when your body only knows how to run 9 minute miles.  Don't expect more than you are currently capable of.

I had a good text conversation with my coach about it, basically letting him know that I blew it.

I think I could've done it the way I planned, but I got ahead of myself and I let someone else's race become my race.  That's the biggest mistake a runner can make- in fact one of the biggest mistakes we make in a lot of ways.  What I love about running is the metaphor it becomes for life.  We have to use our own brains, depend on our own hearts, run on our own two feet.  Don't let someone else's race become yours.

Weird Science

This Tuesday marks four weeks of my Paleo/LCHF/Keto "diet".  I'm going to fondly refer to it heretofore as my Primal Instinct Lifestyle of Eating. Or PILE.

Here's whats happened so far.

I've lost about 7 pounds.  1.5 inches around my waist and 1 inch around my hips.  1 inch around my thigh- gone!

Two weeks ago, I was subjected to a workout with my running coach on a high school track.  She had us doing ladders.  Last week, on Monday, we did 15x200m at better than 5k pace.  In the past, workouts like these KILLED me.  Usually, somewhere in the middle, my muscles ache and my brain rebels and my body backs off.  I was surprised when, in the middle of the first workout I mentioned, I did a whole-body mental check and realized I was fine.  I was better than fine, in fact.  I was hot, because LOUISIANAINJULY=HELL but really, my legs had plenty left.  My chest heaved with the effort I was putting forth but I could feel energy circulating in my body and propelling me forward.

 The second workout- 15 reps- I honestly felt like I was getting slower with each rep.  Every time I finished one, I half expected to feel the protest from my body I've felt before.  That feeling that one more step, one more rep will be too much.  It never came.  And I impressed myself when I examined my Garmin and found that all of my reps were similar- every 200 was run in around 50 seconds.  For those of you who don't know, 200 meters is half the track.  One full lap is a quarter mile.  So 15 sets of 50-second 200s amounts to about 1.9 miles ran at about a 7:30 pace.  Which may be just another day at the track for some athletes, but that's really good for me.  My rest laps did get longer, but GOOD LAWD, it was hot out there.

So what does this have to do with PILE?

I've been doing the research, and reading all the pros and cons of being a meat-and-fat eater.

I really have come to realize that I can't subscribe to any one notion on what works and what doesn't except for that our bodies and metabolisms and propensity for change are all VASTLY DIFFERENT.  You're a vegan athlete?  Awesome.  You want to build a macro plan that fits your goals? Cool.  You want to drink your nutrition and workout to videos? Fantastic.  You're built to burn fat and you're possibly allergic to carbs... well, okay!

If I have learned anything the last three weeks it is that I have always done a pretty good job of being in touch with my body and what it's telling me.  What I have not been good at is giving it what it is asking for.  In the last three weeks, I have had some times of tiredness and fatigue- remarkably noted only after nights that I drank wine.  Supposed to not be a big deal on PILE to have some red vino, but I did notice a difference.  Does that mean I'll quit indulging?  Hell to the no.  I'm happy to understand how it affects me.  On days I kept a 75% or more fat with 20% protein and 5% or less of carbs mix, I have felt more awake, focused and capable than ever.

I realize the body needs carbs to function in some capacity for endurance activity. The benefit I can see for what I have done the last few weeks is that I can incorporate good quality carbs when I actually will need them. But the body doesn't need sugar in its most diabolical forms- sports drinks and preservatives and complicated breads.

I keep going back to McDougal's account of the Cretan adventures where mere mortals lived off of only the things available around them from farm animals and game and fish.  They were healthy, agile and capable of great feats of endurance.  Knowing what I know now about how my body doesn't like me at all if I deprive it of meat, that I have a natural aversion to vegetables and a natural love of all things fatty and nutty, I have to surmise that maybe a person's ancestry and where they come from has a large part to play in what kind of diet will work for them.  I think it goes beyond the three body types and is really linked to who we are, primally.  I'm not a scientist, or a dietician, or elite athlete.  But I think I'm on to something.

Mixed Messages

A girl can lose her mind trying to figure out the best way to pair training with diet for the most favorable outcome possible.  I hope that, if you have an opinion on the subject, that you share it. Because in this arena, I am truly interested in personal experiences.

I have tried the vegetarian way.  I'm not good at that though, because... BACON. But really, the couple of times in my life that I have tried to follow plant-based raw regimens, I have experienced some of the worst side-effects in my life, even after what should be the initial shock-your-system detox or whatever.  It seems that when I rely on plant based protein, I feel hungry all the time, I feel like I am going to black out when I stand up or bend down to pick something up, and in general I just feel weak.

Conversely, as my diet over the last few years has improved considerably but included mostly protein, I started to worry as I also experienced fatigue that I wasn't including enough good-source carbs.  I notice very easily when I am lacking protein- I get shaky and feel headachy and irritable.  It only seemed like carbs came in to play the longer my runs got-  I started drinking BCAA and eating more bananas but began to think that I wasn't eating enough carbs for the amount of running I was doing.

It seems there are plenty of people who function highly as athlete and never eat anything with a face. I don't have any political or ecological reasons for being interested in vegatarianism- I believe that animals are on the food chain and we are at the top, and God meant it that way. Sorry.  Just makes more sense to me.  And, BACON.

So years ago I subscribed to the Maffetone Method, it made sense- for a long time now I've been pretty processed-sugar-free.  I hadn't really thought much more about this philosophy until I read Natural Born Heroes by Christopher McDougal. I actually remembered why I eat the way I do and had an a-ha moment when I realized that the heart rate training my coach is doing with me originated here too.  Maffetone's research says that we react poorly to carbs, which is the same science behind Atkins, Paleo and Bulletproof coffee.  Interestingly, McDougal recounts in his book, in between scenes about the greatest wartime kidnapping shenanigans to ever take place, how he met with not only Maffetone, and tried the method himself, but he also caught up with Dr. Timothy Noakes.   Noakes wrote the running bible back in the 80's that seemed to fuel the big-corporation intervention of sugary electrolyte drinks into the endurance sports, touting carbs as the magic ingredient all athletes couldn't live without.  But he changed his tune, and now supports Banting which is pretty much protein and fat rich, low carb living.

So, what's a girl to do?

I may be the textbook study on this.  Flashback about three years ago.  I got really good at high protein, good fat, low carb.  Then I moved. (Cortisol levels through the roof maybe?). I felt tired, lethargic almost.  I blamed my new environment on my lack of energy. I drank more than I had been, and ate more fried food (bad fat?). I had a year of adjustment.  During the adjustment, I crash dieted, because that's my default mode when I feel like life is controlling me instead of me, it.

Now I am here.  Clear headed, and with a running coach.  I got back on track with my diet with Amanda, who put me on macro tracking and refilled what had previously been an empty furnace- if metabolism is akin to a fire stove oven, then all I had left four months ago were ashes and absolutely no fuel and definitely no fire. I trusted her advice and began to feel stronger, more energetic, alive and able.  We gave the furnace something burn, and now it's time to relight the fire. Now, I am just looking for the optimal fuel for my life to keep that fire burning as long and as hot as possible.

I have decided to try Maffetone's 14 day test, starting Tuesday, July 5.  It isn't about dieting, it's about finding out how different foods affect my performance.  After all, I am obsessed with the idea of finding out what my brain and body's version of Elite is.  Wish me luck!

When $&!# gets real....

I hired a running coach.

I am terrified.

Here's the deal. Up to this very moment in my life, that little "I want to run Boston" seed that was planted years ago was growing somewhat silently, slowly, in the dark.  I've watered it fairly consistently, fed it some fertilizer occasionally, have let it spend a few seasons in drought.

It's there, but honestly no one would ever notice if I just quit.  Changed my mind.  Let it die.

A big part of me has always been completely convinced that I would never see this through.  After all, I'm your starter. Your driver.  The person with great ideas, visionary dreams, and fizzles out when the reality doesn't manifest fast enough.  I happily leave details to other people. I never finished building the kit Victorian dollhouse my dad bought for me when I was ten, even though I could see it in all it's teeny tiny glory with lights and plumbing.  If a book doesn't catch my undivided attention in the first two pages, it can sit in book purgatory on a shelf for years before I pick it up and try again with enough conviction to let it try to win me over.  I have left countless things unfinished in my life, often looking for the next thing that seems interesting.  Obviously, I get bored.  I'm happy to report that in my 15 plus years of becoming a professional, I've learned a bit how to follow though and definitely have gotten better at it.  But it isn't easy for me.

So I spent a lot of time this weekend contemplating the fact that I HIRED A RUNNING COACH.

What is it about this particular journey that I haven't given up already?  Because if you asked my history, it would say I've been there, done that, and I should be done with this by now.

But I'm not, and it's fear.

We talk a lot in my line of work about fear being a motivator.  I'm afraid of living and dying and never figuring out what I'm really capable of.  The run doesn't take away this fear- it fuels it.

This past weekend, we met my parents in Chattanooga to get my kids back from their first summer vacation trip.  My daughter desperately wanted to go Ziplining at Ruby Falls.  There was a ropes course and four Ziplines.  We recently experienced Ziplining over some tired gators at Gators and friends a few months ago, and working up the courage to climb those towers and let go was exhilarating and nerve-wrecking.  We had a great time but I won't even lie and say I wasn't afraid.

As we had a guide explain the ropes course at Ruby Falls to us, I secretly wanted my daughter to change her mind.  Because I had never done a ropes course, and Ziplining still kind of scared me, and well, I would have been fine just checking out the underground waterfall.

She was all about it though, and my husband and son were in.... Which if you know my husband.... Wow.  The fact that he was willing to go- now there was no way I could back out.

They put us through a short safety course and then we set out with a guide.  There were several ropes obstacles, everything from tight-rope walking to moving bridges to swinging poles to skitter across.  It was unlike anything I have experienced before and I realized, through that experience, how much growth occurs when we put one foot in front of the other, regardless of fear.

I think they call that courage.

There were SO many times that I have wanted to stop running.  There were several times on that ropes course that I wanted to be rescued, to come down, to just say, "Let's be done with this."  But I didn't.

The desire to find out just how mentally tough I can be outweighs my desire to feel comfortable and safe, and that is why I run.  I found myself on that ropes course, almost meditating as I concentrated on every footstep, aware of my weight and my muscles and my balance, fully present inside my body.  This only happens when I run.  I realize I will never be "elite".  But I am ready to see what my body and mind's version of elite is, and I won't quit until I'm satisfied.  Hiring a coach is paramount to reporting your annual sales goals to your manager, to doing ropes courses and trying not to appear afraid because your 13 year old daughter doesn't seem afraid.  It's taking the commitment to the next level. It's taking a risk by trusting someone who I don't really know with my dream.  It's looking fear in the face and saying, "I'm not going to quit."  I can't wait to see where this goes.

It's not about the Run.... wait, no. It is.

Let me just start by saying that Marie Kondo is a little batsh*t crazy.  Which is okay in my book, because I like crazy.  I picked this book up at Barnes and Noble one day when I was feeling lonely and probably PMSing, and was amused that someone *actually* could write a book about tidying up.

I was intrigued.  So I brought the book home and did what anyone would do- put it in a pile of "stuff to do later" in an obscure catch-all corner in my house.

One day a couple months ago, I picked it up and thumbed through it.  I immediately got the gist of Marie Kondo magic, but was more interested in the psychological aspect of tidying up than the physical one.  I always believe that books will come to you when you need them the most, sort of like "when the student is ready, the teacher appears" kind of thing.

I have been feeling, for a while now- that even though I've moved and the landscape has changed drastically- that I'm holding on desperately to some old ghosts.  That sometimes, I don't feel like I moved on, I feel like I ran away.  And either way, some things followed me.

That small voice that has never steered me wrong has been nudging me for a while now to clean out the cobwebs- emotionally, physically, mentally.  Lately, I started making the connection- what if that feeling that I'm stuck in mud and not progressing in running has more to do with some emotional baggage I'm carrying around than it does the ten pounds I've gained since we moved?

And what should I do about that?  Because, for all intents and purposes, the run has always been the therapy.

SO, I speed-read the book, decided that this weekend I would begin the process of letting go of anything and everything that doesn't serve me, isn't meaningful and isn't necessary.

SO, this.

After I took step one and cleaned my closet out of every shred of everything that was in there, I wanted to just move and leave it all behind.  If there is a better metaphor for taking stock of your state of being mentally, I don't know what it is.  And I don't know why I so mistakenly thought this process would take two hours.  It took TWO DAYS.

Marie tells you to keep or toss based on joy.  I'm not really good at following rules, so I made up my own. For something to stay, it had to be an item I felt comfortable in.  It had to be useful.  Some things went because I evaluated a memory associated with that item and realized I wanted to let it go. Some things, like my old prom dress- which was the ONE thing I tried on during this task- held a great memory but really no longer has any tangible value.

 

The fact that I fit into the junior's size 7 was enough of a win that I don't need to hold on to that thing forever.

Most things were an easy decision.  Some items, though- man.  No wonder we're a mess.  The mental fixation we have on things, and moreover the reasons we keep things around- they don't make any sense.  My goal here was to bring sense to chaos, to begin to organize my life- not exactly in the Steve-Jobs-All-I-Wear-Is-Jeans-And-A-Black-Shirt kind of craziness, but more like, I-should-totally-develop-the-habit-of-being-more-organized-so-I-can-at-least-find-my-shoes so that I can develop a better routine.

I took breaks about once an hour or so and looked for other corners of my universe to organize and apply my rules to.  I rearranged my furniture, organized my laundry room (while doing laundry, which, if you know me, isn't normal!), and really just started taking stock of all the things around me and deciding that if things don't have a home in my home, they should belong to someone else.

Somewhat adhering to the Kondization method of doing things, I got rid of about 20 books.  That was harder for me, because I love my books.

In the end, I ended up with this:


I don't know that I've ever, in my life, "mindfully" cleaned.  Usually, cleaning is done as a last ditch effort with a time crunch when someone's coming over or I just can't stand it anymore, or I'm mad about something and the mad maid shows up.  Cleaning- tidying up- has always been a necessary thing to do, a chore- something I do not want to do and feel forced into- not a task I take upon myself in order to help me grow and to prune my life.  It is very true that the way we are living on the outside is a manifestation of what's going on on the inside.  I think it's imperative that we get the two things aligned, and now more than ever I am willing to do the work to clean EVERYTHING up... and get rid of all the junk in my trunk for good.

Today was pretty cool.  I know it's a process.  I know I have more running clothes than anyone probably needs, even after letting go of a lot...

I feel very accomplished.  Now it's time for a bubble bath and a glass of wine, and in the morning- a good run.  The book I'm reading now:

I love Brendon Burchard.  Check him out.

On Just Doing It

I've been doing what I do, professionally, for sixteen years.

I've not been all that great at keeping score throughout those years.

Over and over again, regardless of the company or the management or the pep talk- there is always something to be said about keeping score.  Sports teams do it.  Education systems do it.  The entertainment industry does it.  The best in my industry do it, faithfully.

There's always someone keeping score- and furthermore- keeping statistics.  How many yards? How many words? How many people watch and listen and buy?

When you think about it, all of the things we love the most are carefully weighed and measured.

But for whatever reason, some people in some industries, namely sales- some people have a hard time keeping score.  I have a hard time keeping score, and this translated into my new Macro IIFYM way of eating.

It's natural, when the score is good, to want to write it down and show it to someone.  It's also natural, when the score is bad, to rationalize all the reasons it's dumb and pointless to keep score and hide from the people who might be looking, especially when you're in a position that makes you doubt that anyone is really looking.

If the last four weeks have taught me anything, it taught me that I wished much, much earlier in my life, I valued keeping score even when the score was hateful.  That if anything, I'd learned earlier the motivation that comes from really, truly caring about the score.

This macro thing- this part of the journey- I won't say I'm obsessive about it but I will say that meaningfully keeping score for four weeks, good, bad or ugly, has created an unintended habit of awareness.

I am now fully aware that there's more protein in cow's milk than almond milk and that you can get high quality lactose-free, fat-free milk that tastes great.  I'm aware that if I get close to 50 grams of protein first thing in the morning, I'm not hungry all day long- but I'm aware I need to stoke the fire so I focus on getting another 30 grams within two or three hours after my first meal.  If I do this, then naturally I find that my last two full meals of the day provide the balance I need of macros almost naturally.  I find that paying attention more makes me crave things that aren't beneficial less. Keeping score has made it so I don't ransack my kitchen at 9:30 PM looking for 65 grams of fat-free protein, which literally amounts to eating a tub of fat-free cottage cheese and downing a protein shake.  Not really the best move for a good night's sleep.

I've always known that keeping score is vital to progress and success, and anytime I have focused on keeping score, I've improved my results.  I also know that I stop keeping score when failure is looming.  When, for whatever reason, the score isn't going to favor me.  Maybe it's a fear of facing the things I'm not doing, or a die-hard willingness to be lazy instead of productive, or an all-out serious denial of the truth.

Because the truth is that we can always do more.

I used to make fun of press conferences that are held after major sporting events.  Like, why do you think you lost this game?  Clearly, the answer is always that you didn't do something as well as the other team did.

Now, I think I understand the question a little bit more.  It's not just that the losing team lost, it's about what went wrong.  And if we don't pay attention to what what wrong, we can't make it right.  And we have no chance of even knowing what's going wrong if we don't keep score, or if the score is a fabrication made up to appease someone who may or may not be paying attention, rather than for our own assessment.

I wish I had understood this earlier, and that I had become a raging fan of self-statistic-keeping earlier.   In all things- I understand now, more than ever, that every little thing counts- not just the score.  The practice that came before the game.  The hours of good sleep logged, the steps taken, the time spent just trying to be better.  The moments spent in silence, reading or in prayer or just being. Every rep, every mile, every drop of sweat. The moments of joy, the moments spent ugly-crying... they all matter, and they all become part of the score.

Confessions of a Recovering Mindless Grazer

Don't lie.

You know you've been there.

You're doing something around the house, perhaps taking a load of laundry from a bedroom to the laundry room.  Maybe picking up the random things your teenagers leave lying around the house- shoes, water bottles, empty Lunchables...  and the next thing you know, you're standing in front of an open refrigerator looking for something to eat.

In my case, I'm not even hungry.  I'm not really bored, and I'm not stressed.  And these days, I generally go for something "healthy"- greek yogurt or an apple.  I think there's just some weird disconnect in my brain that may or may not be related to a primitive need to survive- if food is available, I feel compelled to consume it. Grazing is making IIFYM that much more difficult on me.

I'm the girl that will snag a french fry or three from her daughters plate.  I will take a handful of Cheerios the kids left out before I shut the box and stash it back in the pantry all while yelling at no one in particular to put the cereal back where it belongs.  Then I will stand in the pantry and stare, like if I just hang out long enough a genie with a bag of Oreos will show up.  When he doesn't, I notice a near-empty bag of black bean chips.  Doesn't seem prudent to keep it, and would be wasteful to toss it, so I might as well eat the three chips and handful of crumbs at the bottom before throwing the bag away.

I don't keep much junk food in the house, and over the years I have progressed from Girl-Scout-Cookie-binge-eating diet-coke junkie into a mindful grazing animal, but a grazer nonetheless.

Which makes keeping score that much more difficult.  On a scale of 1 to Root Canal, keeping score for me is like major dental work.  The past month, I have gotten good at understanding what I need and why I need it in terms of nutrition, and I've even gotten good at not hating myself while I'm eating an extra plate of food specifically designed to reach my macro goals that may or may not include strange amounts of fat-free cottage cheese and sweet potatoes.  I've even gotten really good at staying accountable and adding those fries-here and cheerios-there into my log.

What I am not good at is planning.

I am really over plugging all of my triumphs and transgressions into MyFitnessPal only to find that I am way over on fat grams and no where near my protein goal.  Even if the fat was "all good".

So what is a girl to do?

Well, last night I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning reading articles about runners and running and people who cheat to get into Boston.  I read a piece from my old hometown local newspaper where two teachers I knew, both older than me, made it in to Boston this year.  And I had this thought.

I've been progressing toward my goal.  I have been doing the right things, I have been getting serious about training.  I would even say that I have been quite committed.

But I haven't been relentless.  And I haven't planned like someone who really wants it.

I know what I need to do and that I need to map out a plan and stick to it.  I need to map out my macros BEFORE the day I'm in, so that I have a plan.  So that I can get closer to them early instead of trying desperately to catch up on them at 9PM.  I need to make the effort to find the hills that, now that I have become familiar with my new surroundings, I know exist.  I need to go to bed earlier.  I need to drink less wine and drink WAY more water.  I need to preempt the mindless grazing by having measured and counted snacks available when my brain and stomach wage war over my goals.

I preach and teach all day long to people who are new in my industry that planning, preparation and keeping score are the foundations to their success.  It's time to practice what I preach.