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May 2018 training recap

May 2018 training recap

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May was just as I had anticipated it would be: full. In the absence of racing this month, I did a lot of other high-quality stuff: lots of marathon training mileage, of course (posting just shy of 200 miles, about 196 and change) but also quite rewarding and gratifying non-running stuff, too.

While I wasn’t racing, I was instead going to the land of the mouse to celebrate my eldest’s 7th birthday, hosting my in-law(s) at my home for the whole month, doing lots of prep work for my eldest’s Girl Scout bridging (sort of like a promotion from one level in GS to the next), and helping out a lot at school with all the end-of-year stuff that comes at the end of an academic year. Add to the mix lots of freelancing again, and it felt like the month ended just as quickly as it started. Somewhere in the middle, I might have blinked. Maybe. All of that combined with raising a feisty almost three year-old and yeah, the days are long and years are short or some such nonsense. It’s all a blur. At least it’s a good blur, anyway.

not running

Really, I have zero complaints with how this month fared, especially as it relates to running. I took more rest days than I planned, simply due to our time down south at the beginning of the month, but no matter. Experience has taught me that walking around for 10+ hours for a few days in a row confers comparable benefits as does running easily for 30-60 minutes each day. (I still always bring running clothes with me, in the event that an opportunity presents itself, but I sorta assume that it’s not going to happen).

I don’t exactly know how to describe it, but I think May helped me to turn a corner on all this post-stroke stuff, too. I wrote something similar back in April, but I felt it even more in the past month. The passage of time has a way of helping with these things in that regard. I’m at a point where I can safely say that I will go for days on end without thinking even a fleeting thought about it and that, more often than not, when the thoughts do arise, it’s more a statement of fact than one that precipitates a shit-ton of anxiety or a meltdown.

Case in point: when my eldest is at swim practice, I run laps around the school campus. Coincidentally, this often puts me directly across the street from the hospital where I was admitted. I think I’ve said it in this space before, but for a while, even seeing the hospital was gut-wrenching (which was also horribly inconvenient since there’s a great Baskin-Robbins nearby). Fortunately, for the most part, nowadays when I run past the hospital repeatedly on my Tuesday and Thursday night runs, I don’t feel any different a reaction upon seeing it than I do upon encountering any of the other multitudinous businesses and establishments along my way. It’s there. That happened. Move on. It’s little, but it’s big, if that makes any sense at all. I don’t want to particularly think or talk about this anymore.

post swim night mileage. she loves her little parka she got for her bday 🙂

What, no doubt, has helped facilitate these corner-turning feelings has been my running this past month (and the continued passage of time, surely). Running is great for the cardiovascular and physiological side of things, but shit, it sure does wonders for lots of other messy (mental) stuff, too. It was sometime during the past month where I began to feel my confidence returning. Showing up and doing workouts that made me literally laugh out loud — how do I run that?! — and running hard and consistently on fatigued legs, not being intimidated by the prescribed volume or intensity, helped me regain a sense of accomplishment, pride, and really — bottom line — confidence that the stroke compromised a few months ago. I totally, absolutely, wholeheartedly get that as far as strokes go, I got super duper lucky, but that said, that doesn’t change the fact that my world got turned upside down and inside out a million times over there for a while. The mental side was rough, to say the least. Running does so much for me mentally — as it does for so many of you, as well — and I’m just elated as can be that both it and the general passage of time have helped me inch beyond everything.

from a Sunday LR with Janet in the ARP foothills above SJ. Downtown SJ is about at 3 o’clock (and nearly centered)

We do this stuff to feel strong, and regaining the feeling of strength after being robbed of it (for whatever reason) is pretty powerful stuff.

That feeling — of promise, hope, opportunity, potential, second chances, however you want to label it — is indescribable.

easy ‘hood miles are the best

The month of May, and its concomitant miles, gave me plenty of opportunities to have those feelings again and all but think to myself I AM HERE (no shame in this game).   

Where I am now is as good or better a place I would have hoped to be going into my first marathon of the year. Honestly, I couldn’t have been/couldn’t be happier.

I’m not particularly interested in comparing my current fitness level to that of yesteryears, but at this point, I can say that I like how I’m feeling and that it excites me. Aside from the usual workouts during the week, the long runs on the weekend — which have often been in ARP, in Janet’s and my neck of the woods — have also been tremendously helpful. Marathon runners will often say that the most important run of the week is the LR, and I’d take it one step further and say that if you’re returning to running after time away — for injury or just due to life, in general — one of the best ways to re-enter the sport, to get strong again, to up your endurance, and a whole host of other attributes, is by doing as much of your LRs on trails as possible. They are tremendous equalizers and injury mitigators and can do such incredible stuff for your mental muscle.

This feeling that I have suggests that things seem to be clicking. Workouts and long runs (the latter with or without built-in workouts) are both fun and challenging, which can sometimes be an elusive or precarious combination. I’m just thrilled to be training to do this marathon rodeo again for the 32nd time in about 8 weeks from now.

and as we get closer to TSFM weekend, it has been fun to put on my ambassador hat and go spread the love! here, with another ambassador, Jason, up at A Runner’s Mind – Burlingame at a Thursday night fun run

It may make for boring blog fodder to say that things are going well and that I’m happy where I am, but … sorry. My head’s in the ground and will be there for a bit longer, seeing what we can unearth along the way. Bear with me.

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Revelling: New category! I’m still reeling from going down to Ventura a couple weekends ago to spectate at the Mountains to Beach marathon from Ojai to Ventura. It’s a hefty drive from SJ, about five hours +/-, but it’s a hugely popular marathon and half among Bay Area runners. It boasts something like a 700’ net drop (though punctuated with some ascents along the way), and I went down to cheer on many teammates and friends who’d be toeing the line. My friend, teammate, and coach Lisa ran the half (and did great, sub 1:26, notching our club’s master’s F record); my teammate, friend, and training partner Janet killed it in her debut marathon with a 3:26 (and got a sturdy BQ in the process); and I got to see Chicago friend Erica finish her 47th marathon (and score another BQ, too). Many more teammates and friends — like Hannah (sub-3 for her debut marathon), her fiance Phil (2nd place OA), Jenn (first sub-3), Tiffany (sub-3:15 and close to her PR, earning another high master’s level marking in our club), and Melissa (first sub-3) — just killed it out there, and it was so deeply inspiring to watch. I hung out at mile 22 (after seeing Lisa in the half around mile 11) and just had a blast cheering and cowbelling for my teammates. Entertaining Janet for her final 4 miles was also a treat. It was a good day for so many people, and I love that I got to experience a little bit of everyone’s celebration. I’m grateful my sorry ass didn’t cry because these things make me emotional. YAY RUNNING.

Wolfpack and friends pre-race dinner in Ventura. Phil (front, next to Hannah) went on to place 2nd OA at the race, and our other fella, Jonathan, went 3 flat. Such a fast group of humans, holy shit!

 

of course only Lisa looks like she’s out for a fun run when she’s running a 1:26 half. NBD (from ~mile 11)

 

A fast herd of runners – Hannah in black on the left, Jenn just steps behind the group in red, and Melissa up there, too, in blue (all sub-3 and very high placing overall).

 

Tiffany looked strong AF at mile 22! She caught me so off guard that I completely spaced on her name, haha. Sub-3:15 (3:13) and posting our second fastest master’s F record in the process.

 

Running with Janet over her last 4 miles was great. I tried to do that delicate balance of being entertaining and distracting without getting her to the point of wanting to knife me. (I still got a ride home, so I think I was at least moderately successful). This is from the last 1/2 mile or so of the course as it hugs the shore.

 

always such a treat to see Chicago Erica when she’s here! I hadn’t seen her since I was about 20 weeks pregnant with G, back in 2015. Erica did great, and it was when I was waiting for her at the finish line that I got all teary. 🙂

Reading: May had a lot of good stuff. Deena Kastor’s Let Your Mind Run (recapped here) was excellent and one that I would all but implore every runner — particularly distance runner — to read. Maria Shriver’s I’ve Been Thinking was meh, not really my style. I was genuinely surprised at how much I liked Jim Comey’s A Higher Loyalty simply because after reading Hillary’s book last year, I didn’t think I’d be able to stomach anything coming from him. (If you’re even minutely interested in politics and the shitshow that is Washington right now, I’d recommend reading it. It is fascinating and at times, tragic). Michelle McNamara’s I’ll Be Gone in the Dark about the Golden State Killer was equal parts awful and fascinating to read — how are some humans capable of doing such horrible things? — and reading it just weeks after the alleged killer was apprehended — and not long after McNamara, herself, died — was borderline creepy. Bonus creepy factor: the GSK’s slayings in SJ were relatively nearby, and I’m about 90% certain I’ve run by the homes several times. (!!!!) Finally, I finished Scott and Jenny Jurek’s North and loved it; the review is in my drafts folder and is forthcoming. The running lit world is … lit (not sorry) right now.  

Listening: No new music that I can remember in the past month, but a couple podcasts stand out to me: the longest shortest time’s interview with Cecile Richards and sounds like an MLM but OK’s special episode related to NXIVM. The former, with Richards, was really interesting and made a traffic-riddled drive bearable, and honestly, the latter, about NXIVM, was just weird AF. I have so many questions.

Watching: With my MIL staying with us for the entire month, C and I have had more date nights than we’ve had in a while (hooray!), and somewhere in the mix, we got to see a Deadpool 1 & 2 double feature. I won’t elaborate on my opinion about the new movie, in an effort to avoid spoilers, but I’ll admit we had a good time.

and that thing is still in my pencil pouch purse, unopened. I just noticed that person behind me putting her (his?) down into the t-shirt, hahaha

Anticipating: Once school ends, the girls and I will be heading to the midwest to see family for a few weeks, which will be great. While I’m there — in the thickest part of SF training — I’m planning to do a couple races, too. Change of scenery is always fun! *cough don’t get lost cough*

mother’s day 2018 = an excellent morning long run with Janet followed by most of the day in pajamas. yes, please

Writing: Lots of freelance stuff this past month but not much in this space, unfortunately. Between EOY obligations at my daughter’s school and her GS troop, my writing here suffered. I should perhaps consider committing to a post-a-day challenge or something. Maybe…

Dreading: Nothing comes to mind right now, aside from annoying insurance issues. All that BS I talked about last month is still up in the air and will be so until late July, until my “investigation” gets “finalized” er whatever (and in the interim, we started receiving collections notices, blerg). At the end of last week, I also finally had that super obnoxious test done that my GI ordered, the one that necessitated me eating only plain white rice for 24 hours before the test and then fasting for 12 hours the day of the test, all before going to the actual appointment, sitting around for more than three hours, not drinking or eating anything (and not being allowed to nap), and getting my breath analyzed every 20 minutes. Who the hell knows at this point. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

May was great, and I’m looking forward to all that June has to offer. 

yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaw 

Book Review: Deena Kastor’s _Let Your Mind Run: A Memoir of Thinking My Way to Victory_

Book Review: Deena Kastor’s _Let Your Mind Run: A Memoir of Thinking My Way to Victory_

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Everyone loves Deena Kastor; that’s pretty much a fact of life. She seems to have this superhuman quality about her that makes runners who have followed her career, or those lucky enough to know her in real life, all unanimously agree that she is just so great. By no means is this a knock to her, nor am I being insincere; I honestly feel like Deena’s just one of those rare athletes and people to whom everyone gravitates for one reason or another.

I can’t remember where I heard or read it, but the label of being “America’s distance sweetheart” about sums it up for me for Deena. This woman is the real deal, a hardcore and accomplished athlete who has kicked ass and taken names her entire running career, and yet she also seems so incredibly genuine and just — for lack of a better word — real. Plus, there was that one time when she waved to A during the SJ RNR race, when Deena was a pace group leader and ran by us, as we were course monitoring on the Alameda. The fact that she heard and acknowledged my ~4 year-old who yelled “HI DEENA!” pretty much sealed the deal that I’d forever be a Deena fangirl.

It’s probably not a surprise, then, when I first heard that Deena was releasing a memoir, I was just keen as hell to read it as soon as it came out. Let Your Mind Run: A Memoir of Thinking My Way to Victory is Deena’s recently-released book, written with Michelle Hamilton, that takes readers through her running life, beginning with her first foray with the sport as a young child and ultimately into her master’s running years, with all types of adventures and experiences along the way.

Before I read the book, which just came out in the past few months, I heard Lindsey Hein interview her for her podcast, back in late October/early November. Lindsey had her on again relatively recently, right when the book launched, and in the event that you’re pressed for time and can’t read the book anytime soon — but really, go make the time because it’s worth it — both of Lindsey’s interviews with her give a great idea of what Deena’s book is all about.

Of course, because it’s essentially her running life story, Let Your Mind Run gives readers a fairly linear understanding of how she progressed from being a kid who ran pretty fast in southern California to becoming one of the best American distance runners, ever. That can potentially make for fairly dry reading though, right? This type of writing can become akin to essentially reading someone’s resume. Fortunately for us, Deena punctuates all of her running exploits with the behind-the-scenes action and commentary that led her to that very moment. Her writing is accessible and honest and — something that I appreciate — owning of the hard work she put in day after day to get where she wanted to go. She doesn’t self-deprecate because she doesn’t need to. There isn’t any distracting hubris that readers have to sift through, either. She knew she was talented, evidenced by the many victories she pulled fairly effortlessly early on, but eventually, she realized that her talent was only going to get her so far; now, she’d actually have to begin working: and hard.  

I noticed that she had dedicated her book to Coach, whom I initially assumed was her husband, Andrew, with whom she has worked for years. I didn’t know anything about the actual coach, Coach Vigil, the man who took a huge bet on her and who arguably helped shape her into such a formidable powerhouse of running. I don’t want to ruin her story, but imagine you deciding today that you want to become one of the best runners in the world, though you don’t really have the marks or history to prove that you’re a shoe-in or capable. Regardless, you woman up and phone the expert on the subject who — for some reason that you may never know nor understand — decides to take you on.

What phenomenal trust from the get-go, right?

Coach Vigil helped get Deena into powerhouse shape by enabling her to take on everything from the super short distances to the marathon. Reading about the many ways her relationship with her coach shaped her running — not just the physical side of her running but perhaps even more importantly, the mental side of it — was such an excellent reminder of the importance that coaches have with their athletes. Similarly, Deena talks a lot about the role of her teammates in her training — exclusively guys, initially — and the ways in which working with others who were better, faster, stronger, fitter, whatever more than she helped to contribute to her growth as an athlete. In the sports psych, running lit, and general “business motivation” genres, there’s so much written about the power of team, and reading a world-class professional runner’s ruminations on the subject is yet another excellent reminder of how important it is to potentially catapulting one’s athleticism to the next level.

One of my biggest takeaways from Deena’s book is the almost palpable sense of gratitude that has seemingly permeated her running from day one. Sure, she absolutely has had bad workouts and subpar races — she’s one of us, after all! — but even when her running wasn’t going as she had envisioned it would, she still seemed to radiate a sense of gratefulness for her abilities to do what she’s doing in the first place and for all the people with whom she had surrounded herself. You might say that it’s revisionist history at its finest, that surely she wasn’t feeling all that grateful when she literally broke herself mid-marathon in Beijing, and I get it. However, I’d argue that reading one of the world’s best marathoners keep perspective on the subject — “I caught my tone. Well, no, wait a second, I’m not a victim here. This is a big deal, but maybe a big deal has a big lesson to teach. I shifted. Why? Why did this happen? It was the better question than ‘Why me?’” — is really powerful stuff.

So often, we runners get in our heads about everything. We take things so seriously, and I’d argue that we do so needlessly. Even the most recreational amongst us make our running so life-or-death serious that we track everything — splits, volume, rest intervals, calories consumed, calories burned, number of hours spent sleeping, and who knows what else minutiae — that you’d think we’re doing this stuff because our mortgage is on the line. So often we get so freaking trees-driven that it’s not even that we can’t see the forest; it’s like we’ve burned it down and left a conflagration in its place. In doing so, we tend to lose the joy that initially brought us to the sport, and suddenly our “I get to go train for a marathon” statements turn into “I have to go train for a marathon.”

You can argue that it’s semantics, but I’d counter that our word choice can have an outsized effect on our moods, feelings, sense of obligation and responsibility, everything related to this hobby that we’re doing for fun, emphasis needed. When we talk about our running in the same way that we talk about needing to clean the toilets or take out the trash, suffice it to say that the loving feeling has flown the coop.

I don’t recall a particular experience or dramatic breakdown that Deena had that made her mentality shift toward running. That said, it seems like her vast experiences in the sport, especially as she climbed the rungs to become one of the best runners in the world, gave her plenty of opportunities to pretty profoundly internalize running’s role in her life and her attitude toward it. Particularly when she was coming back from poor race performances (wherein her mortgage really was on the line) and/or possibly career-ending or season-shortening injuries, she was in a position to evaluate everything and make future choices accordingly. In this respect, it was especially interesting to read about her transition into pregnant running, postpartum running, and master’s running and to see how her goals and training changed as her life fundamentally changed, too. Again: hearing from a professional about this stuff is so refreshing.

There has been so much written recently in sports psych and the running lit worlds about mental toughness, grit, and resilience, and Deena’s book blends that genre with sports memoir in a way that’s memorable and accessible. “Define yourself” is something that I’ll always attribute to Deena — listen to Lindsey’s interviews and read the book for the backstory there — and it’s from Deena’s many poignant passages that I repeatedly found myself nodding along in agreement through her book.

I’ve read before that one of the hardest parts of writing a book, aside from the obvious, is the end. What are the last lessons, the last bit of sagacious wisdom, you as an author wish to confer on your throngs of adoring readers? Out of everything I could have quoted, I think her closing sentiments encapsulate what it means to let one’s mind run and how all of us can “think our way to victory,” in whatever environment we find ourselves. She writes:

“It became a game to hunt down the struggle, to get to the point where negativity bubbled and I had to be more resilient, more creative, more optimistic, and more grateful to emerge stronger from it. Every day I got out there so I could apply the mental habits to life more readily. Staying composed in an anxious pack let me keep my wits in L.A. traffic. I could handle a broken foot in the Olympics, and a broken yolk in the skillet. Patience in a long run gave me patience when Piper’s flute playing got a bit loud. Seeing all the lessons along the way added to my motivation. I had learned disappointment was rooted in the desire to improve and that under the grief, there was deep love. Resiliency opens doors, and compassion and gratitude can dissolve tension, and enrich any moment. What more can I understand? I ran on to see what discovery and life lesson would emerge from the miles ahead.” (278)

Many runners will claim that running, and in particular, long distance running, is as much a mental endeavor as it is physical. Deena Kastor’s Let Your Mind Run shows how that symbiotic relationship can play out and how those lessons we learn in the many miles we post — the lessons about ourselves, about our world, about our relationships, and just about everything else —  can permeate the rest of our lives in meaningful, long-lasting ways and that we really do become better for it and because of it.