On the road

So this is my last week at my current job. I didn't manage to finagle much time off between jobs, but I did get Friday off, so I'll do my 17 miler then so I'm fresh for my 6 am flight on Monday. The question will be the on-going training once I'm traveling. I know I won't get up at 2 am in order to get in a long run before a 6 am flight. I know I'll be fried after taking a red eye home and not want to run then either. Any road warriors out there? Any advice?

Genetics

I read an interesting article the other day about how it is largely genetics that determines whether or not you find exercise enjoyable. It's an interesting concept and one that I've been thinking a lot about lately, particularly over the weekend.

I met my sister in New Hampshire to climb Mt. Washington for her 16th birthday. She's my half-sister actually, and 10 years younger than I am. When she was younger we adored each other and spent a lot of time together, but in recent years we've grown apart. Part of that is my fault- I've been busy establishing a post collegiate life. I don't go to my Dad's house regularly. That's partially because I'm busy, and partially because I just don't enjoy being there anymore. My step-mom seems to reign over the house, and no matter what my Dad and I do, it isn't right. My sister is picking up that same attitude, and honestly just isn't that pleasant to be around. Most of the time she doesn't speak to me, and if she does, it is to complain.

But climbing, she was happy, and we were happy. We're both athletes, and somehow being in motion broke down the walls between us. In sneakers and light jackets we charged up the mountain, passing hikers that were far better equipped. At the summit we stood knee high in the snow, shivering, and almost getting knocked over by the wind, but grinning from ear to ear. When we got near other hikers we both instinctively kicked into a higher gear in order to pass them. When we got back down to the base, and realized our ride wasn't there, we both were eager to try another loop while we waited. We both have that drive to push ourselves. Then we got back in the car, and she returned to her sullen self, grunting responses and complaining about my choice of movies and restaurants. So I'll have to cling to those moments on the mountain.

Ellie's Inspiration

Over the weekend I went to a funeral for my grandmother's best friend, Ellie. From the moment she was born, at just 1.5 lbs, Ellie faced major obstacles. She spent her early days in the wood-stove to stay warm and drank sour milk. She grew into a thriving toddler, that befriended the little girl next door, my grandmother. That friendship endured until the day my grandmother died, despite time and distance. They saw each other when they could, and wrote long letters many times a week. This is a lesson to me, I have no friendships this close despite having so many ways to connect.

As the oldest of 6 children, Ellie went to work in a factory in order to support the family, so her brothers and sisters could go to college and peruse their dreams. Ellie went on to work as a farmer, a housekeeper, a nanny, a grocery store clerk, and finally at the age of 79 she decided to take on a new job caring for the "elderly." None of the jobs was easy or glamorous, but Ellie did all with spirit and a smile. Ellie's husband was killed in WWII, leaving her with 2 young daughters to raise. Her daughter Lindy spoke at the funeral saying "I realize now things weren't easy, but we never knew that. Mom made an adventure out of everything. We'd hop in the back of the car, sitting on buckets, because it didn't have a backseat, and drive until we got tired. Then we'd get out and have a picnic and see what we could find." Adventure was in Ellie's soul. She, her sisters, and sometimes my grandmother went on many trips, everywhere from Amish country to Las Vegas. Her sister Ruthie recalled one trip to Acadia national park where their hotel reservation was lost. So they found a local church and camped with the hippies in the basement.

Facing some major changes, I am trying to channel Ellie's spirit and look at life as an adventure. We can't choose what life throws at us, but we can change how we deal with it. Ellie would not want us to dwell on her death, she would want us to throw a party and hop in the car and head off into the unknown to see what we can find.

Thanks to the rain gods.

Well it was about 100% humidity during my run this morning, but the downpours held off until 20 minutes after I finished. Thank you to the rain gods.

The run was decent. It was my first try with the run walk method- I did 5 minutes running and 1 minute walking. I averaged under 10 minute miles, so I'm happy. I think the biggest benefit for me was metal, in that I only thought ahead to the next walk break, which is a lot easier than looking ahead to the end of run.

holding pattern

I am antsy today. It's a day where I know big decisions and big changes are ahead, but I can't do anything yet. Tonight is my final job interview, which means that after 2 months of interviewing and thinking about it, I'll finally have to make a decision. In all actuality I think I've already made the decision, but once I make the commitment, there is no turning back. And I'll actually have to go through the unpleasant task of leaving my current job.

Also, my formal training for Antarctica starts Friday with a 13 miler. Where I was already doing 9-10 mile long runs this summer, I'm skipping the first few weeks on the plan.  Now that long run is looming out there on the horizon, and I'm anxious to get it done. I want to test my fitness and see if I'm really where I think I am. After listening to the Extra Mile Podcast Experiment and reading Jeff Galloway's book cover to cover I want to try the walk breaks and see if it makes a difference.

But for today, there is nothing I can do except wait.

I'm back

Obviously I took a break from blogging for awhile and I don't really have great reason why. After the marathon my running didn't have any direction. I kept running, because I do have that compulsive need to run daily. But I didn't have any motivation, any fire. Outside of running, I've been pretty busy as well. Work is intense, as my manager and 2 other supervisors have left, and I'm left to pick up the slack. I'm currently debating leaving as well, I have 2 very good offers with consulting companies, but I just can't make up my mind. It's my natural aversion to major change, but also the hesitation about the consulting life-style. Do I really want to travel every week? It's pretty impossible to have a life. Not that I have a lot holding me back right now- no boyfriend (I won't bore you with that story), no geographic restrictions. I come home from work, do a second workout, and sit on the couch. I can do that anywhere. I vacillate hourly.

But on to the exciting news. My passion and fire for running is back. This is inspired by two things.

#1 I did the Reach the Beach Relay last weekend. After months of running alone, mostly on suburban streets I forgot what it's like to be out in the wild in the elements with the support of thousands of runners and a wonderful team. Even though I ran alone during my of my legs, I could see the blinking lights of other runners stretching out in front of. I had my team-mates stopping every couple of miles to cheer me on. I knew that thousands of other people were also out in the rain and the dark, staying awake for days straight, cooped up in stinky vans, all for the love of running.

#2 I AM OFFICIALLY RUNNING THE ANTARCTICA MARATHON IN FEBRUARY. After 4 years on the waiting list, I'm in!

Hello wall, my name is Kiersten

The first 15 miles of the marathon I felt great. I had to be there extra early because the half marathon my roommate was running started an hour earlier. So I sat in Starbucks, reading the NY Times, and munching my mini-wheats. I started with the 4:15 pace group, but it felt too slow. There were a couple other women who felt the same way, so we took off together. We ran a 9:15-9:30 pace and it felt easy. We ran through the military base and through a gauntlet of soliders. They were all hoo-raying and slapping us five. They we looped back through the center of Virgina Beach and ran down the board-walk. It was lined with people cheering. I felt like a rock-star. Then came mile 16. We headed back out of the downtown on a long straight run. It was now 10 am, and the sun was blistering. There was no shade, and we were away from the seabreeze. My poor body, acclimated to the cold after a winter of long runs in the slow and below zero temperatures started dying. At mile 18 I threw up, and then proceeded to continue to throw up and dry heave all the way to the finish. My muscles started seizing and I was dizzy. I realized I lost a goo. We still hadn't turned around and headed back towards the finish. I dropped down to running 5 minutes and walking 1. Then running 4, and then 3. Then I walked half a mile. I was still only at mile 20. My four hour marathon was gone. I felt terrible. So terrible I considered quitting. But deep down, I knew how mad at myself I would be. I could always walk to the finish. Except walking was taking FOREVER. So I started running again. 1 minute of walking, and 1 minute of running. I finished in 4:24. I collected my finishers medal, my hat, my shirt, a bottle of water, and a banana. I limped to the beach and collapsed crying. I couldn't get up. I couldn't take a sip of water or a bit of my banana without heaving. I didn't even get my free yingling. After an hour my wonderful friends drove the car as close to the finish, and I dragged myself to it, then concentrated on not throwing up in their backseat. When we got to the hotel, I fell onto the bed and slept for 2 hours. Finally 7 hours after finishing I managed to eat an Italian ice. This race broke me.

It's time!

Today was my last run before the race. A short, east 45 minute run. And at the end I was tired. Which leaves me asking, how am I going to run 21 more miles on Sunday?

Freak Out Week

I am now less than a week away from the marathon. This is probably my least favorite week ever. It's too late to get any more training in, so all I can do is question whether or not I did enough training. And I can't even go for a nice long run to calm myself down. Also, the left side of my body is not happy. My foot is still bruised and swollen from where I tripped over a giant metal spike in the dark last week. All because I had to race my boyfriend to the car so he couldn't open the door for me. (Don't ask me why??). Next my left calf is as hard and tight as a rock, despite copious amounts of stretching and foam rolling. And then my left hip doesn't seem to want to stay located when I put any amount of pressure on it. This happens sometimes. But why is it happening now?

snot rockets

Let me preface this by saying that I am not against snot rockets while running outside. In fact, I have allergies and a chronically drippy nose, so I frequently resort to the method for clearing my head. But only when outside, and only after checking to make sure I'm not going to hit anyone.

This morning at the gym, the guy next to me on the elliptical was blowing snot rockets into his hands, wiping it on his sweatshirt, and then placing his snotty hands back on the elliptical. NOT OK AT ALL.

International Women's Month

I missed International Women's Day on Monday without even noticing, which is a statement about the level of attention the day gets in this country. When I lived in Italy. March 8th was a real holiday: women stopped each other on the street, women were given flowers, women met in large groups for dinner, where they were given free drinks. At first this made me feel a little strange because I don't think that just because of my sex I should be treated specially. Yet, the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Women should celebrate themselves and the women around them. I am grateful to all the women who came before and broke the path. Without women like Susan B Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton I would not be able to vote. Without women like Katherine Switzer I wouldn't be able to run in official marathons. Without women like my Mom I wouldn't know that women can do it all (raise a family, have a career, fix a flat tire, grill a steak, drive a boat). So this is my challenge for all you women out there- what are you going to do to raise the bar?

Restoration

Ever year we I go up to Sugarloaf with my Mom and her "band." They play guitar and fiddle. It's a whole weekend of nothing but skiing, eating, and music. I wasn't feeling well (probably the result of a warm turkey sandwich I ate out of desperation on the plane home Thursday), but I didn't want to miss the weekend. Saturday, I went downhill skiing. They had gotten 36 inches of snow the weekend before and conditions were as good as they ever get. It was an intense day of skiing. I was skiing with family friends, who are avid back country skiers, and we met up with a group of their friends, one of whom was a fellow Olympian. We were skiing all the double diamonds, and we were doing them fast. By the time I hiked to my car at 4 pm I was exhausted. But the good, I've pushed myself to the absolute limit exhausted.

Sunday morning, we got up early and went cross country skiing. Normally, cross country skiing is a consolation prize for me, when I don't have the time or money to go downhill. But exhausted and still feeling sick, I found it to be exactly what I wanted. It was the perfect temperature to be comfortable, but no so warm that the snow was mushy. The sun was warm, and the trails had just been groomed. I had a waltz that we played the night before playing in my head, and I was skate skiing at an easy pace to the beat. There was no one else around. Just me, the soft woosh of my skis, fresh air in my lungs, and the trees. Perfection. Restoration.

pain in the butt

Marathon training is progressing. I've gotten in two 20 milers, and so I guess it's time to start tapering (and by tapering I mean skiing every weekend instead of long runs!). I feel pretty good. Last year, I was incredibly sore for about 4 days after 20 milers. Now, I've got my recovery down to the point where I can work-out the next day. I usually aim for a class at the gym or the elliptical to give my running specific aches and pains a day off. The only thing I'm worried about is this persistent pain. I've had IT band and hip issues before, but this is different. It's not on the side of my hip, it's right smack in the middle of the right side of my butt. I was walking around the house last night holding on to it- which I admit looked pretty strange- and I got some good teasing from the roomies. I've been stretching and foam rolling like a fiend, but nothing seems to reach this particular ache. Not a huge deal, just a pain in the butt!

Dubai

I'm in Dubai for work this, and while I love how exotic the city feels, I am not loving the running here. The "gym" at the hotel, is a crappy treadmill and a crappier elliptical. The worst part is that there is no AC, and I, being acclimated to running outside all winter, am instantly a giant sweaty mess. After 4 days, my body and mind were rebelling at the thought of another run inside.

So I decided to venture outside. The city is amazingly safe- so I wasn't worried about running outside by myself in the very early morning. However, I was worried about the traffic (it's terrible) and about the cultural appropriateness of running in shorts and a tank-top in a Muslim country. The traffic wasn't so bad- there are sidewalks everywhere. I did spend a fair amount of time waiting at stop lights, but I didn't have any close calls. The clothing was another matter. Maybe it was all in my head. The whole time I was running I felt so aware of my body. This isn't a place when men leer and cat call, like when I ran in Italy. It is a place of silent disapproval. This makes it difficult to tell if it is just me being paranoid, or if I'm truly being offending people.

I also struggle with how much I should care about this. I don't agree with the idea that women should be covered all the time. But, I am a guest here, and as a guest I should be respectful of my hosts.

Split Personality

Last week I got to indulge both sides of my personality. I spent the Monday-Thursday in Las Vegas for work. I was staying at a nice hotel, eating FANTASTIC meals, drinking fancy Starbucks lattes, and running strict interval workouts on the strip. I wore suits and makeup and sipped martinis.

Then Friday-Sunday I drove up to Utah to go skiing. I stayed in a tiny one room cabin, wore the same clothes for 3 days, ate nothing but peanut butter and jelly and Honey Bunches of Oats, and had no TV or internet. I was a ski hermit. I was the first one on lift every morning and the last one off. The skiing was glorious- fresh powder and bright sunshine. Something about the mountain in Utah even made me ski differently. Instead of bombing down the hill as fast as possible, I slowed down, I was playful. I skied in and out of the woods, dove into deep piles of powder.

It still seems strange to me that I could be so happy in two places so different.