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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_

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. 

April 2018 Training Recap

April 2018 Training Recap

The difference a month can make is pretty incredible. In my March training recap, I opined that all month long, I was hoping that things — running and life in general — would continue to feel like normal and that I could put all the “stroke stuff,” for lack of a better phrase, behind me. A month later, now heading into May, I am ecstatic to say that as far as I am concerned, life is — and feels — normal.

normal.

A mental shift occurred sometime this past month — fortunately — because until then, as irrational as it is, I often entered each weekend feeling a bit anxious and scared and just stewing on the fact that OMG X number of weeks ago today was the stroke. X number of weeks ago was when everything got upended. It was as though I was dreading each Sunday because it was on a Sunday that the stroke happened, as though somehow, Sunday rolling around each week again was going to put me at a greater risk for future strokes (irrational, right?). (Imagine what it must have felt like to drive back to Sacramento, on a Sunday, for a race in early April, since that was the same setting just a handful of weeks earlier when I actually had the stroke). Anyway. Sometime this past month, some sort of transition happened. I went from sorta fearing the weekends to a couple days ago, on the last Sunday of April, actually looking at a calendar and realizing oh. It has been 12 weeks, three months in a few days. Okay. I don’t want to overstate the importance of this mentality shift, but I have a hunch it’s pretty damn important for my post-stroke psychological recovery. It’s beginning to feel less like it happened and more like it was just a weird-ass, very life-like dream.

hello to downtown SJ behind us, from Sunday’s 18 miler up in the ARP foothills. It wasn’t until I was home and done with this run that I realized that for once, I hadn’t at all stewed over the otherwise mundane fact that it was a Sunday. I smell progress. (PS, people in this picture are training for marathons, Ironmans, a World Championship 50 miler and representing a country in the process, and a 100 miler! I feel like a slacker)

…that is, until I talk to insurance each week. The insurance company and I have this completely ridiculous song-and-dance routine that consists of me calling them each week, usually on Thursday, to find out the status of a bunch of outstanding claims. I am literally on a first-name basis with two different insurance reps at this point, women who are “handling” my “case” while things get “investigated” or “researched.” Eyeroll, eyeroll, eyeroll. As you can imagine, I satisfied our family deductible pretty quickly by being in ICU for a week, but because of some mistake somewhere — honestly, what I’m guessing amounts to someone’s clerical error — insurance thinks that I’m going to pay in the upwards of $15k out of pocket for costs that they are claiming were out-of-network but weren’t because of that whole emergent care detail that supersedes everything else. Yeah, nope. 

I am usually pretty excellent about compartmentalizing my life — be it family stuff, school stuff, Girl Scout stuff, stroke stuff, running stuff, whatever — but my weekly insurance call is the one time that I can’t *not* think about the fact that yeah, no, that stroke thing apparently wasn’t a dream; it actually did happen. While I luckily don’t have the physical repercussions from it, I still get to deal with insurance bullshit until The Unknown Person(s) gets their act together and fixes things. It’s so very annoying.

There was a time not that long ago when talking to insurance each week would wreck me and leave me pretty emotionally distraught; friends, let me assure you, you haven’t lived until you’ve cried on the phone with a health insurance company because you’re so enraged over someone else’s incompetence. I could go so long without thinking about or ruminating over the fact that this bad thing happened to me, but lo and behold, every week when I’d make this phone call, reality struck me in the face and reminded me that it wasn’t all a bad dream. In fact, for many weeks post-stroke, it would take the better part of the day the work up the gall to make the call to find out WTF was going on. Honestly, sometimes I’d only phone in if I were having a shitty day in the first place because talking to Those People all but promised to put me in a sour mood for the rest of the day. These days, fortunately, the tears have turned more to the direction of action (and anger, for better or worse), compelling me to stay on the phone on hold in the upwards of an hour+ if need be so someone, anyone, The Unknown Person(s), can get this crap straight. It’s amazing what we can accomplish when we’re put on hold, gang!

This whole ordeal is so, so frustrating and infuriating, but if bitching about insurance 3 months after having a stroke that could have ended me is the only thing that I’m complaining about, then I have it pretty good. It angers me to no end though that this is what we apparently have to do in the United States in the year 2018. There is so much that is so profoundly wrong with this situation.  

In other random bodily systems news, with our insurance switch in 2018 came all new providers, and included in that mix was a new GI for me. Long story short, she completely refuted my former GI’s microscopic colitis diagnosis, so in the past month, I’ve begun another battery of tests to figure out WTF is going on with my insides at any given time. So far it sounds like my intestines are about on the same level as that of a newborn; basically, my guts are just hyper little bastards that don’t ever apply the brakes when they should, amounting to a vicious eat-then-poop-eat-then-poop cycle all the time. You’re welcome. More tests throughout May should help elucidate things a bit.

filed under things I’d rather not do again: chug barium

But in the running compartment of my life — which is what we’re all here for, anyway, right? — April was really good to me. I posted just over 180 miles for the month (183), raced at the Sactown 10 miler, the Silicon Valley half, the Food Truck 5k (taking third!), and started building my long runs in earnest (on trails!) with Janet as she ramped up her MTB training. Meeting and running with Meb was as awesome as I had hoped it would be, too. Nestled in the mix of all my own running this month was my eldest daughter’s Kids’ Race at the Food Truck 5k as well as her first triathlon of 2018 this past weekend (RR forthcoming!), so suffice it to say that weekends were fairly busy, yet super gratifying, in mi casa.

from the kids’ race at the SV half weekend

 

finishing up a 16 miler in ARP and honing those ever-important “taking selfies while running” skillz

The end of April and beginning of May also marked the beginning of SF Marathon training, which is pretty exciting. I feel like I’m in a good place physically and mentally at this point and look forward to training and to seeing what I can do this cycle. Marathon training cycles can often be great teachers, and I’m just elated to begin the grind again.

 

Reading: There’s a lot of really good stuff out there right now. I really enjoyed Endure and wrote a recap of it earlier in the month. Tara Westover’s Educated was also really good but also incredibly sad and pretty disturbing, if you ask me; honestly, I was pretty pissed most of the time I read the book (but I’ll refrain from saying anything so as to avoid spoilers). I’ve gotten through most of Meb for Mortals since Meb signed a copy for me and like it a lot as a solid resource for training, though it’s not exactly something you’d read all the way through as you would a regular book. In the past couple days, I’ve also started Deena Kastor’s Let Your Mind Run, which I’ve really enjoyed and will likely recap sometime in May. Maria Shriver’s I’ve Been Thinking has been satisfactory so far, and I’ve really liked Enlightenment Now, though I think I’m going to have to renew it several times before I actually finish it.

major life points unlocked

Life: Lots of running but also lots of fun and exciting family and home stuff was the norm for April: enjoying spring break with the kids at home; getting new floors and replacing our beat-up carpeting; flying down to LA to see my childhood BFF for about 18 hours; following along from afar the craziness that was Marathon Monday; and surely more that I’m forgetting. April was the beginning of the end of the school-year, and I think it just made everything feel as though it was moving at light-speed at any given time. Experience has taught me that if I think April is fast, just wait until May…

spring break, new floors, and QT in the kitchen (once there was flooring down)

Listening: Every post-Boston podcast I’ve listened to was just awesome, particularly with Sarah Sellers, Boston’s 2nd place woman finisher. I still haven’t made it through all the post-Boston episodes, but I’ve really liked those I’ve heard so far. I love how so many non-professional runners just owned the day and ended up finishing on some of the biggest stages of their lives. That’s just an incredible storyline.

Racing: April meant the inaugural Silicon Valley half and Food Truck 5k for me and the Kids’ Run for my eldest, as well as the Sactown 10 miler for me. I was going to run another PA race, the Stow Lake 5k at the end of the month, but opted to stay home and run long instead, which I think was the right decision, even if it meant missing the fun social opportunities that race day provides. Right now, I don’t have any racing plans on the calendar for May, just good ol’ fashioned marathon training. It’ll be great. Do I write weekly training recaps, now that I’m beginning training? Or just keep it in this monthly format? Does anyone even care? Decisions…

the blue hour’s my fav.

Watching: Anytime I include this section, it just makes me realize exactly how little TV I watch or how infrequently I see movies. It’s sorta pitiful. I am, however, looking forward to Deadpool 2 (is that even what it’s called?) coming out in May, and we already have double feature date night tickets.

Writing: A fair bit here last month with all the race recapping and book reviewing, plus a healthy volume of freelance stuff. It’s all feast or famine with the latter, and it seems to be freaking Thanksgiving right now, luckily.

Anticipating: Everything. It’s that time of year.

no fun to be had in the woods. no fun at all. (PC: Saurabh, I think)

Dreading: An obnoxious and super restrictive GI test I get to have done at the end of the month. Basically, if I understand it correctly, if I have diarrhea at all in the weeks preceding the test, that could alter my results (ok, so that’s already surely strike one against me). For about 2 days before the test, I can only consume plain white rice (and a bunch of meat and poultry that I wouldn’t eat) because … something about results getting skewed otherwise … and then the day of, I think have to fast for about 12 hours prior to the test. This will be after another test I get to do that’ll have me at the doctor’s office (with my two year-old in tow) for a good 3+ hours doing various breath tests to test for … something. I’m not even sure, to be honest. Sounds pretty rad, right? I swear I’m keeping the medical establishment in business.     

May!