i've fallen (sick in bed) and can't get up!

dear sneakers,

forgive me for i have been sick. i have to have had to miss one too many GTS and am now starting to panic. i missed only a 6-7 miler (emphasis on only), and a bootcamp but i also have not picked you up since last wed. i know you sit there, in the corner, gathering dust, lonely, wondering what is it you did wrong, while i look at you waiting for the day i can lace you up again.

you see, if you remember correctly the agoura hills disaster when i ran while i was recovering from bronchitis - it was not a good run. i'm trying to avoid running while sick, injured or whatnot. i'm trying to take advice from coaches this time. and when you are sniffling and coughing and it is 50 and VERY windy it is my understanding it not to be such a good idea to go run. even if it's with you my dear beloved sneakers.

i want you to know that i miss you dearly and await anxiously the return of our time together. i think of it often.

until next time.

much love.

::mo

to interval or not to interval...

that is the question.

now what exactly is a running interval. well. my running watch counts down for 5 minutes and then beeps and that's when i know i'm supposed to walk for 1 minute. so in theory you run for 5 minutes and walk for 1, or run for 4 and walk for 1 or whatever combination you want. there is no set rule. it's whatever works for your body. (right coach?) the key is to walk before you are tired to give your body a chance to recover and always be fresh.

now. i'm used to running 5-1's. the only time i run straight through is when i run on a treadmill (yawn with me here) and i has to be because of the momentum of the machine itself that helps me. right? last night as we gathered at the engineer's gate at 90th and 5th in central park i set my watch for my usual 5-1's and waited to go. aaaaaaand we're off.

i start talking to my mentor gill who is awesome and telling her about my crappy day, then lindsay is next to me and we start laughing it off and before i know it 2 intervals have passed and i'm still running. the 10 minute warmup passed and i'm still running. the 30min workout passed and we're all still running, i can barely hear my watch beeping as i'm not paying attention to it anymore, just enjoying the smell of the park, the chit chat of the conversation, the sound of my feet pounding the pavement and by this point i don't even care anymore. the 10 min cooldown comes around and of course it's just when i feel warmed up.

as i rejoin the group i look down at my nike+ to stop it and suddenly realize i just ran 3.92miles without my oh-so-loved intervals. i didn't even take a walk break. did i just have a great run? can i do this everytime? am i looking at intervals as a crutch or are they are a great training tool? can i really run more than 5 miles without them? i'm not really sure right now. all i know is that i CAN run 4miles without them. and it felt awesome. it will be one of those runs i will always remember.

for now i'll always have my intervals beeping for when i need them. but i don't think there is anything wrong in pushing myself to run without them. i'm positive i'll need them for that 20miler!

for gramma

my gramma passed away on aug 31. she was a breast cancer survivor. so i was sitting in my apartment when i came across the komen race for the cure 5k race and i started thinking... since i moved to nyc i became a treadmill junkie but for gramma i could try to race a few dollars and go hit the pavement right? oh and not to mention wear pink. yeah... pink.

so on sunday september 13 i joined over 25,ooo people at the starting line on 71st and central park west wearing proudly my bib, warming up, listening to major bloomberg, uma thurman, judge judy and other speak, proudly about the cause. i felt good. it felt good. i can't begin to explain the butterflies i felt as i warmed up, looking down at my sneakers, looking up at the starting line clock, at the mass of people in front of me, behind me, thinking back to the marathon i had ran almost a year ago for another great cause.

and then the gun went off. i was running the race alone this time but i was not alone. i didn't feel alone in central park, especially since my friends dan and kathryn yelled at me in support just as i passed the starting line able to spot me in the sea of pink thanks to my neon yellow visor. we ran up central park west and down strawberry fields. it was hot, a bit humid (hell, a bit too humid for my taste) but i didn't care. people were walking, laughing, talking, running, and i felt good. i was racing again after giving it up for so long. for no particular reason i had hung up my sneakers. i suddenly remembered how much i loved running.

mile 3 came so fast i didn't even notice. i was just getting warmed up when the race was over. that's what i don't particularly enjoy about 5k's. it takes me 2-3 miles to get warmed up. my legs start to go in automatic and my mind starts to go in 'run mode' and then i have to stop. but that sunday i was crossing a finish line hands high up in the air for gramma i could care less. i ran for her. i ran hard for her. i ran for cancer yet again and it felt great. i love you gramma. i miss you so much.

oh, did i mention that i shaved 1 min of my usual pace? i ran in 40:29 / 11:40pace. :) hey, it was a race after all!

aaaaaaaaaaaaand i'm back!

dear blog,

i am sorry i have abandoned you but i was busy. this 'i was busy' is not an excuse. you see, i was busy moving cross country to a new city, new york city, and finding my way back to my sneakers in the meantime. but i did. i am happy to report that i have found my way back to my sneakers thanks to central park and they took me to a very special place: TNT. so now i'm back (no, not from outer space), wearing purple once again, ready to tell you all about my adventures in run-land in nyc!

with all my love.

::maria

Westside Team in Training - Featured Alumni - Maria

Featured Alumni - Maria
Name: Maria del Pilar Toro-Ortiz
Team: Westside Marathon (Greater LA)
Number of TNT Seasons: 1.5
Last TNT Event: Rock n’ Roll San Diego

Why did you join TNT?
My cousin Jorge passed away of brain cancer when he was 45 (6 years ago) I started running on my own, found TNT by accident one day and decided to join. I had never spoken about Jorge until I saw the courage and love that my fellow teammates, mentors and coaches had about about their experiences. It was then that I knew what had brought me to the team. There is very little that can be done for brain cancers but there is so much hope for blood cancers. I wanted hope.

What was your best fundraiser?
I had a lot of success with letters, more so than emails. There is something about that paper reminder that made it easier for people, and especially large companies, to write a check and mail it back. I also coordinated a ‘turtle-a-thon’ with a friend from the triathlon team. We had a good turnout for the turtle races and were able to finish our fundraising.

Most memorable TNT moment?
When I ran 20 miles. I sat down, took off my sneakers and as I was nursing my tired feet I thought: “OMG I just ran 20 miles!”. Coach Chris just looked at me and smiled (after he gawked at my blisters!) If I could run 20miles, I could do this. And if I can do this, Anyone can. It gave me a surprising moment of clarity and hope.

What would you have done differently during the season if you could start over?
Aside from learning to love the GU from the beginning, figuring out which socks work, discovering about toe taping and finding out about bodyglide earlier, I guess nothing. It was an experience that I would love to re-live from the beginning, blisters and all!

Do you have any other words of wisdom for our participants?
Some of my best friends up to date are participants and mentors. I was never shy to reach out but getting to know them made the experience all the more memorable. This group has some of the most happy, kindhearted, wonderful and selfless people that you will ever meet. Reach out, they will be your friends for a lifetime.
If you want to hear more about my experience, you can email me at maria.toroortiz@gmail.com. I’m always connected!

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gone...swimmin'?

Yes. I have hung up my sneakers for a speedo (!)

As I’m attempting to kick across a couple of last yards and dying, short of breath with my legs so tired behind me and my arms exhausted grasping tightly the kickboard I wonder what was the brilliant idea that made me want to hang up my sneakers in the first place? And then I remember…swimmer’s lungs, running pace…oh, and it feels yummy in the water!

My triathlete friend Amy is so graceful in the water. You see her yellow swimcap glide the water as she swims yard after yard. Her arms slice the water as they go in, apparently slow, one at a time, gracefully strong, powerfully determined. When I go with her to the pool and I get tired of drowning or just butchering my stroke, I stand at the end of the pool and look at her technique and just wish I could swim so effortlessly, and then go run 8:30’s (and not call what I do jogging).

What did I do? I discovered that the Santa Monica Swim Center has ‘fitness classes’ so I signed up (since I’m a SM resident and the discount doesn’t hurt) and yesterday showed up early to my first lesson. I tried to share a lane with someone and kicked for 20mins or so while anxiously awaiting my first lesson, my first step into Michael phelps, running, triathlete worthy land. Little did I know that yes, there are 4 strokes, yes, they go in order and yes, I would need to learn them all. Oh well. Onward! Upward!

Lesson 1. The backstroke

I.must.not.drown.

The coach called it the ‘piddle-paddle’. He went on and on about how to kick from the hips, bending the knees, how to be more efficient etc. lesson learned no. 1, because I favor 1 leg over another, I can’t kick and travel in a straight line. It must have been quite amusing for the lifeguard to watch me zigzag all over the ‘shared’ lane. Eh, something to work on. Kicking alone? (aside from my diagonal tendencies) one thing. Kicking and ‘touching-arms-to-ears’. That’s a whole ‘nother story. Sounds easy enough but as is my problem with swimming, i.must.not.drown, and I haven’t mastered that. So after butchering the 2-armed stroke and swallowing a lot of water I made it back. Diagonally.

Now for the classic 1-armed stroke. As I pull of the wall I’m thinking, “piddle paddle, oh wait! Chin up, oh water, shit, I need non-mirrored goggles. Was that the first or the second dive board? What’s that? Oh the lane. Must move right. I’m a mess. And then I have to turn around and do it all over again. Must practice. Must DEFINETLY practice. Wait, did someone say this was the easiest stroke? I miss running.”

i'm sorry sneakers you know i love you.

this may seem like an oxymoron but i love to hate my running shoes and hate to love them at the same time. i love you, sneakers, when i have a good run. and i had a good one on the, omg, treadmill the other day.

i didn't feel like a hamster, i didn't feel like a robot, i didn't feel like i was going everywhere and nowhere at the same time. i had just gotten off of the elliptical and decided to walk on the treamill for half an hour or so. i was feeling light and airy with a quick jump in my step so i started to trot, and proceeded to run. As i had my interval watch with me i pressed the magic button that says 'run for 4, walk for 1' and started slowly, one step in front of the other, a different bounce in my step because i'm running. comfortably i should add, nowhere i should also add.

as i talk to my running friend and we debate the pros and cons of running on a treadmill i feel a certain sense of accomplishment because i can run nowhere and feel somewhere, feel like i'm someone just because my feet pound at a certain cadence, one in front of the other. "I'd kill to run the jfk reservoir" i comment. she responds "i feel the same way about the UCLA perimeter".

i guess what it all comes down to is that my running shoes are my best friends. my only friend in times of pain, pleasure, good runs, bad runs, treadmill runs, and walks. the only one who will understand why i love to hate them and hate to love them. i'm sorry sneakers, you know i'll always be faithful. can you ever forgive me?

i'm sorry sneakers you know i hate you.

I have a love hate relationship with you. You blister my feet, socks make my feet hot, and lately I have to stare at you for what seems like hours before I actually get my feet in you to go out for a ‘run’. I hate you sneakers enabling me to run. Today I hate you. Tomorrow? I’m not sure. But today I hated you all through my run.

i left my lungs at home.

I’m listening to my breathing. My feet pound the pavement. My eyes are focused ahead but the brim of my visor is slightly in my sight. I am focused, struggling but focused, as I set out on my 3rd run in more than 6 months. A drop of sweat rolls down the side of my face as I suddenly hear the 5 warning beeps signaling a minute of rest. “God bless that walk break!” I think. My watch is on my left hand. The same hand that became an excuse when it was covered by a black fiberglass cast and provoked me to stop. Running. Period.

As I struggle with my breathing I am mad at myself. I am mad that I could abandon something that I loved so much just like that. It was a process. I took my sneakers out of the closet, I stared at them for a week, I put them on and walked around and after much discussion with a friend of mine decided to start doing and stop thinking. Maybe my perfectly manicured feet dread the blisters that are coming. Maybe I knew the struggle that it would be when I started back. Whatever the reason it was harder to start this time than the first time I picked up running as a result of mere curiosity.

I think I left a lung at home. Nah, I’m sure I left a lung at home. The other one is struggling with me as a fellow runner with a beautiful stride breezes past me and I’m jealous of the ease with which he runs.

handling stuff.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. A loooong time. And it's also been a long time since i ran. I was reading my last post; I was all giddy and excited about joining the team and running again. But life happens when you least expect it and ‘handles’ stuff for you.

You see, I apparently fell down somewhere and had a hairline fracture on my scaphoid (that little bone between the thumb and the wrist) and acute tendonitis. All that comes with a hot black cast for 8-10 weeks. They were fresh out of gold lame.

So in a fiberglass cast I show up one Sunday with a note from my doctor saying that I can’t run. The vibrations are not good for healing and the cast gets all icky and soggy and it will defeat the purpose of immobilization. Great, there went my season. But it was a professional decision as I work with my hands.

I stopped running. I also stopped writing. For a while I told myself, only until the cast comes of. That was in October. Today is April and I just came back from a 30min run with half a lung intact. I am SO out of running shape its not even funny. Its easy to stop, not so to start again but I finally got my sneakers out of the closet and after staring at them for about a week or so put them on and pounded the pavement.

It looks so easy, effortless and why am I panting and I haven’t even ran a mile yet? I wonder as fellow runners breeze past me on a windy afternoon in Santa Monica. Well, not running for more than 6 months will do that to you. I guess I have to remember that running gave me pace, hope, clarity, and above all, patience.

What next? Pan out a schedule so I can train for a race. Whatever race. I need something on the calendar to keep me running. If not I’ll feel like I’m on a treadmill going nowhere.

smart running butterflies

i am proud to report that i have signed up to train for my second marathon with the leukemia and lymphoma society. i’m with team in training again. practices every sunday at 7am. proud farmer’s tan lines sore muscles + worthwhile blisters here we come!

i'm sitting here watching the olympic men's marathon in awe of men who run 26.2 miles in 2 hours and change in record heat as i stare at my beat up sneakers in the corner, all ready for practice no. 3 tomorrow. 2 hours. i can probably run what, 10 miles, 12 in that time? lol. it is amazing how these men and women make it look so easy. it is NOT easy. fun? depends on your approach. i'm not sure haulin' butt at a 5min pace would make me very happy but then again i'm not going for gold. it doesn't make me less impressed. personally i haven't been able to conquer the heat and humidity. it slows me down like i'm hauling a ton of bricks and worst of all psychs me out. but that's a topic for another day.

as i sit here and watch an olympic marathon record being set, i reflect on the beginning of this season. present to you week 1, practice 1, mile 1 SEASON 2!!! all is great right! WRONG. I should know better by now but i guess anticipation took over and after ignoring cold symptoms i went out to run. stubborn stubborn maria. you should have stayed in bed.

last season, after about 6 weeks of ignoring my awesome mentors i finally paid attention to them and began listening to my body. in therory by season 2 you should be a 'smarter' runner. so 2 sundays ago when i started getting goosebumps i walked it out. after all, it was week 1 of a long season. needless to say bronchitis hit the next week so i missed week 2. bummer.

what's happening now? butterflies folks. tons and tons of butterflies. the kind that flutter around in your stomach (because, between you and me i'm deathly afraid of the real ones - don't ask). i’m an alumni and you could say i know the drill. i have done this once before and know about blisters and chaffing and bodyglide and the mystery of socks etc but i’m still nervous. like butterflies in my stomach that won't let me sleep nervous and folks i rarely get nervous about most anything. i’m nervous about fundraising, nervous about that first interval where my body would rather be walking, nervous about conquering hills, conquering heat; the little things i never checked off my list.

i guess last season i jumped into TNT like i do most new things, with both feet in, with all my energy, planned ahead, WAY ahead, got injured, exhausted, and forgot that little thing called life that sometimes just has a different agenda for you. after the SD RNR you could say i became a wallflower (if you can believe that i’m capable of doing that) and settled into my old yoga habits.

i’m approaching this season differently, i’m not sure if i’m less excited or just more calm. i’m not sure if i’m a ‘smart’ runner or a cautious one now. I do know that if i sign up for a race 6 months ahead and something happens? No biggie. Its life. It happens.

so tomorrow i’ll go back to my sacred sunday morning routine, complete with Gatorade, space food, sun block and whole grain, whole wheat banana pancakes and i promise to approach this season 1 step at a time, 1 interval at a time 1 mile at a time, 1 sunday at a time. its about time those yoga lessons started sinking in.

am i a smarter runner? i’m not sure. i do have a ton of lessons learned stuffed away in those tiny pockets in my shorts that don’t fit id cards or keys. what i’m sure of is that i’m still a runner.

GO TEAM!

sorry sneakers, i know you miss me.

(insert 50 run-less days here)

i dream of running.

sometimes i have what i like to call ‘technicolor’ dreams. they don’t come often, but when they do they are just plain weird. last night was no exception. i dreamt of running. i even came up with a new fundraiser idea in my dream. creepy? perhaps.

in my dream we were going to some training place or other. i’m not really sure where or why. that’s another thing that happens in my dreams. they are bits and pieces that don’t necessarily fit together. i remember the group left ahead of me and i had to catch up. so i started running. but unlike the last time i ran it was effortless, smooth, enjoyable, and i caught up.

i have ran 2 times since the marathon. i’ve decided to alternate strength training with cardio so i enrolled in these ‘fusion core’ pseudo yoga classes that leave me aching like the first time i ran anything past 4 miles. death by yoga i call it. my master plan is alternate those classes with my once comfortable 3x a week running schedule. little detail? i haven’t done the ‘running’ part. the scorching heat is a great excuse.

in my dream i was smiling, enjoying it and running because i love to run. i believe after getting so nervous for the big race and approaching it as this ‘beast’ i lost track of why i run, for who i run. i also forgot that running is not always easy, depending on how you approach it.

then as i was browsing through my latest issue of runner’s world that i found an ad for pearl izumi. it went like this.

RUN EASY IS AN OXYMORON. what is it about running that scares people so much? why do people feel that they have to put friendly modifiers into running so everyone can feel good about it? well, here is the ugly truth. everyone shouldn’t feel good about running. it’s hard. it hurts. running requires sacrifice and heart and guts. any attempt to water it down with feel-good adjectives is a slap to the face to those of us who still hold running sacred. in fact, if you are running easy, odds are you are not running at all. you’re jogging. so do us a favor, don’t run easy. run hard. run like an animal.

that was a wake up call.

i then sat down and thought about when i ran through blisters, and pain, and didn’t care that it destroyed my feet or challenged my heart. since i started running with TNT every time i laced up my sneakers i felt this urge to run. i looked down at my achy legs and dirty sneakers and felt great. i can run through the pain. i did run through the pain. and i loved every minute of it.

so as for that dream of running easy? it was a dream. dreams are free. dreams are great. dreams are just that. dreams. was it a window to a future reality? i hope so. i hope to run easy for 5 miles and then push myself and run hard for another 5. actually, i hope to to never again run easy for 10 minutes and then get out and give it my all. i hope to never jog again. i hope to run, and every time i do come back tired and achy and proud that i ran. i hope that i never find a reason to stop running.

so as i’m lacing up my sneakers, tying my hair in a ponytail and having that last sip of gatorade as i prepare to walk out the door i suddenly remember why i want to start running. again.

gone runnin’. be back in 5(miles).

marathon virgin [no more]

10 days. it has been a full 10 days after my first marathon. i stared at my packed suitcase for about, oh, 6 days, cleaned around it, stared at my medal + memorabilia. i could not bring myself to unpack, to put away a weekend’s worth of dirty laundry + stinky socks that meant that 18 weeks of training were over and i had lost my [marathon] virginity somewhere along balboa park at 630am on june 1, 2008 when the gun went off.

when i came back from san diego (after the rock n' roll marathon) i hung my singlet with the race bib still attached to it behind the bathroom door and would stare at it every time i would go in and out of the bathroom. let’s say more than once a day. but again, the suitcase kept staring at me and i just kept staring at the cursor not being able to type the ‘final’ blog. my friend ashley whom i managed to miss on the sidelines immortalized me in the internet with a blog (that i have ‘borrowed’ the name from) and then i decided that if i have the balls to run 26.2 i can write about it. damn it.

is it everything i expected it to be? well, like every new experience you ask around, are anxious, exited, nervous, nauseous, tingly, (smallpox?), and in the end it is nothing like what everyone said it would be. it hurts. you cry. you sweat. and then you are finally done and are left with an empty feeling. and then you want to do it all over again. every day. yes ash. i am talking about running.

it wasn’t my best race. but it was my best race. does it make sense? probably not. but by this time you are used to me not making much sense at all. and by this time you know that i’m used to waking up at the crack of dawn to run. but 3am? that was a new one. we were asleep for about 20s. there was no way to escape the adrenaline. it was everywhere. my hands were shaking as i was wrapping my (now infamous) toes before i put my sneakers in. i tried to record every moment with a picture but to a certain degree it becomes surreal and you are like a bystander watching a movie. i was putting on my purple jersey. we were all in purple. there were 21,000 people lying on the grass stretching, singing, sleeping, chatting, writing idiotic things on their arms like "the finish line is that way" (of course, that was me), and doing a number of things at 5am and i was one of them, but today, june 11, it seems almost unreal.

the gun went off. all of us at ‘corral’ 18 start running and as soon as i realized how easy it was to get lost in the sea of purple, i was running alone. in the beginning this would have been daunting but there were so many runners, cheerleaders, bands, the course was new that i was just busy looking around to be preoccupied with who i was. we would eventually end up in the same place, right? so around mile 4 or 5 my attention shifts to this guy on a megaphone screaming something along the lines of “relax your shoulders, look at the horizon” and just as i relax my gait and move my gaze up for a second…. i am no longer within the view of anyone’s horizon. it seems i tripped on one of those road reflectors – palm + knee down on the asphalt. so like any woman who faceplants, you get up as quickly as you can, hope not too many people noticed, and just keep going. by mile 10-ish i stopped at the medics quickly because it was starting to bother me. something. a pain deep in my butt. i had a pain in the butt. i’ve dealt with a shitload of psychological crap with running. never an actual physical pain.

as i’m walking out i see another fellow tnt Westside teammate limping along and the look of relief in her face is just as grand as the feeling of comfort i feel when i see a familiar face. slowly but surely we pair along and walk along, limp along, walk along together. the rest of the way.

i cannot begin to describe the slew of emotions that went through the two of us. we went from chatting about who are you, where do you work, boy stories, horror stories, to bursting out in tears, to not talking at all, to talking in one word sentences “ice pack. massage. shower. pool. beer. MEDAL.”, to a complete analysis of Eleven Minutes and then to complete silence again smiling to the amazing strangers screaming our names (ironed on our jerseys, of course!). she cried. i listened and tried to distract her with some rational thought. or as rational as you get after 6 hours on your feet all the while we kept going and pushed away the number of caring tnt coaches (oh that awesome elvis coach! thanks!) that wanted us to stop and stretch and see the medics. we couldn’t stop. there was no way that we were going to be able to keep going if we stopped so we kept going. slowly but surely, mile by mile.

as we walked into the military base for that last quarter mile i cried. i don’t know why. perhaps it was that fake saturn finish line, perhaps it was because i was tired, perhaps it was the ‘pain in the butt’ that had gotten worse, perhaps by that time my body was just telling me to flock off, perhaps it was because i was hot and sweaty and had traveled 26 miles and was almost there, but not quite.

as i limped across the finish line “with the gait of a hunchback” i looked up at the cameras with some horridly goofy look and produced something that could be described as a cross between a smile, a laugh and a grin. before i had time to take it all in a medic was picking me up to ice my knees. as i sat (more like hunched) there and peeled off my socks staring at my blistered feet while enjoying the numbing feeling of the melting ice it suddenly hit me- something was missing. i looked up, looked at heidi, laughed and said “now where the hell is my medal!?”

run. VICTORIOUSLY!

t-3 for the big monster and its that perfect chilly sunday for the big 20. twenty miles. the number alone seems daunting.

i discovered this week that i have to run because i run, and i have been pouring over books about sports psychology trying to see how i can overcome that ‘subversive’ voice. it sounds so easy to say ‘think positive’ but when you have blisters on your feet or your muscles ache you want to find every reason to quit (and i am NOT talking about ‘the wall’). i found a chapter in this book titled The non-runner’s Marathon Trainer that explains that what you say to your brain is like a command and it makes sense. when you say ‘i’m not good with names’ you are programming your names to not be good with names. one suggestion the book made was to attach 'but it doesn't matter' to whatever is happening. aka. i'm about to toss my cookies at mile 10 - but it doesn't matter.

i basically ran solo all the way, which is not what usually happens but i was on my own rhythm that day. the bridge of the song 'nothingsevergonnastandingmyway' by wilco was stuck in my head and it kept playing over and over. i could not remember the rest of the lyrics but apparently that was enough to reprogram my brain.

i wasn't even thinking about it when we started running, i was actually distracted when the group ran off! so i just put one leg in front of the other and started going, and kept going. it was chilly, and overcast, pretty much perfect running weather, but i barely noticed; i was zoned out. for the first time i was running in my own reality. i was running because i run.

around mile 10-ish i almost tossed my cookies. my body was fine, my breathing was fine. i felt great, except for the fact that my stomach was woozy all over. in retrospect i think it was my first GU with gatorade instead of with h2o that started it all (blame the newbie). i can’t really explain it all. but while in other situations it would have psyched me out for some reason this day i kept going. i think i was thinking of my form, of ‘shuffling’ my feet, of where my arms were, staring at the grass. nothing brilliant was going through my head. i just wanted to make it to the gravel. i like running on the gravel. it makes me feel one with the earth when i hear my feet hit the gravel. it’s like my personal soundtrack. when i started feeling woozy the song in my head came back. i made a pit stop, splashed water on my face, took a longer walk break and kept going.

the last 4 miles i was in automatic pilot. it was my legs just kept going. i didn’t feel them. i would stare down at them and see these sneakers just going slow but steady, and not feel connected to them. i can’t really explain the sensation. when it was time for my walk break i stopped running and my legs felt like jell-o; like when you get of a bike and still feel the motion. i just wanted to ‘bring it home’. 2 miles, water stop; 2 more? the cars. i just went for it.

those last 2miles was where it hit me. i was hungry since i hadn't eaten anything in almost 2 hours. i started to feel the blisters, feel the pain in my legs and then finally, i knew what i like to call ‘the promised land’ was just around the corner. it is that spot that i run to. from water stop to water stop? mile to mile? wherever it is. i break it down and it makes it all better. this promised land? the grassy knoll where i would get to lie down, take off my sneakers and air my blisters out.

through the blisters, through the pain, through the stomach ache i ran. VICTORIOUSLY!

HOLY CRAP I RAN 20 MILES!

will run for rage.

will run for food

will run for life

will run for anger

will run for health

will run for pain

will run for cancer

will run for fun

will run for wrath

something happened last thursday. let’s just say that everything happened and nothing was right. i have been struggling for the last weeks to regain my focus. to remember why i am running and to keep the demons out of my head.

everything fell apart on thursday. it could have been any day of the week. but it was one of those days; one of those days that you just want to scream into a pillow, and i laced up my sneakers and decided to run. in the literal sense of the word.

since i started to run with team in training we don’t run solo. we don’t run with ipods. we chat about life, love and the pursuit of happy(ness) when we run. when i laced up my sneakers that day and went out for a run i was alone with my interval watch and my thoughts.

my head can be my worst enemy, but the storm of emotions that pound the pavement with me can be even worse. the concept of ‘running it out’ doesn’t work for me. the passionate surge i was trying to let go of just kept getting in the way of me and my stride and that was not what i had intended. i kept rehearsing sentences in my head, thoughts kept streaming in and out like a falling stock ticker and it was just plain hard. it was, indeed, a bad run.

i can’t run for anger, i can’t run for pain, i can’t run for sorrow. i can run for a cause, but i have to run for me. i have to run because i run.

will run for me.

[raw]toesday

let’s just start by saying i’m taking a ‘mandatory vacation’ and leave it at that, and therefore have the opportunity to sit here with 2 ice packs on my knees and keep my raw toes up.

tmi you say? well i’m sorry for the visual but my toes are raw. and my knees are sore. and i could not sleep last night from the aches in my body. good aches? perhaps. so what do you do when you can barely walk, much less run, and have too much time on your hands? you get tired of daytime tv, listen to music, check your facebook constantly and attack the stack of running books that have been staring at you for 3 months that you just did not have time for.

they are all basically the same in essence. gear, training, do’s and don’ts, nutrition blah blah blah. hey and don’t get me wrong, i’m not disrespecting them but i guess i was looking for answers. perhaps i’m looking in the wrong places.

i was chatting with a friend of mine and told her i had a bad run. she did not understand. like me she thought that you trained in a progressive, consistent and linear manner and that you would improve in the same manner. i was looking for a reason as to why i had a bad run. as to why i had more than one bad run. as to why i have been having a month of bad runs. i still am.

i guess the last time i remember running and smiling and breezing through it was late march for that infamous ‘big 1-0 before the big 3-0’. i had been running consistently and been in front of the pack. my breathing was great, my pace was steady, and i could hold a conversation. the next day after that i went down with the flu and nothing has been the same since. health crap, work crap, life crap. it all came down. did it affect me? probably. but it did much more. it stopped me. i believe there was at some point a valid physical exhaustion but then that became my crutch. one thing is listening to your body, another is using it as an excuse. i was trying to ‘run it out’ but i couldn’t. i was getting to the runs stressed, worried, anxious. i don’t remember completing a run, (much less successfully) until yesterday (and that is still debatable).

what goes through my head when i run? what psyches me out? first of all the first 2 or 3 miles are the hardest for me until my body warms up. and that is a given. if i can make it past mile 3 i’m good. heat psyches me out. when i overheat to the point where my skin hurts, feeling thirsty (and don’t say – just drink water. its just weird, its like i can’t satisfy it), and falling to the back of the group. those ‘little things’ take me out of my zone. please remember i am not a competitive runner. and i am by NO means fast. but my ‘zone’ is the place i can keep my cadence, my breathing, transform the aches on my legs to ‘numbness’ so i just keep going, ignore the blisters on my feet, and most importantly find my ‘happy place’.

running shoes bring out a storm of emotions that unfortunately don’t come with an instruction manual. i have had moments when i’m just staring at the houses we are running by, am just quiet and listening to the others chit chat, am thinking of the latest boy drama, am freaking out about the latest pimple on my forehead or how tight my jeans were this morning, thinking about quitting and running a half because i’m not good enough, maybe re-enacting a conversation in my head, thinking about wtf i’m doing in cali when i was in nyc a year ago, oh, and my personal favorite, the temper tantrum i threw at mile 11 on my 17mile makeup run where i just stopped, said ‘i don’t want to run’ and kicked the fence. i mean, this coming from someone who is not a morning person and will wake up at 530 in the morning to go run 10 miles.

there is no telling what goes through my head. but the ‘suk it up and keep running’ mantra doesn’t seem to be working lately and THAT is my problem. after my nasty run on sunday someone on the team approached me and suggested that maybe i should run the half. that thought had NEVER crossed my mind before. but needless to say on monday around mile 9 i started to consider it and i started to break down. i hadn’t finished a run in what like 3 weeks? coach’s answer.

Can I be blunt? Let's tell your head to f*k off. You are capable of anything and if your head gets in the way, call me anytime. Be proud whether you run the half or the full but do NOT think for a second that you can't do the full.

so i’m sitting here with my ‘war wounds’ thanking javier for being more stubborn than i am, thanking the coach for recognizing that the static in my brain is screwing with me, searching for answers that i probably wont find, reading about formulas that are not for everyone and hoping that when i kicked the fence on monday i kicked that roadblock that made me forget why i run.

in the meantime? i’m in the market for some toe socks.

battling the pink robots.

temper tantrum @mile 11? check. blister on every toe? check. 75 y/o dude in a tiger speedo, man boobs + a fishing hat when we hit the pool? check. 17 mile run? check.

i can honestly say that i was not proud of myself this sunday when we had our scheduled 17mile run on THE hottest recorded day in santa monica. it was a straight 5 mile run uphill and the heat was unbearable. i ran probably like 3-ih and just walked. i felt like hell when i got to the water stop and walked around 8 more.

today i woke up angry at myself and met with my friend at 6am to try it again. even though i had THE shittiest run EVER today, complete with a temper tantrum at mile 11, almost peeing myself at mile 14, THE most horrible blisters i have ever seen (one on every toe and the whole underside of my feet with 2 HUGE ones) that prevent me from walking like a normal person right now, chafing, and a 75 y/o dude in a tiger speedo, man boobs + a floppy hat when we hit the pool i RAN 17 MILES.

i had to do it. i had to get it out of my head and check the box. i had had a pretty decent season up until after the 10mile run. then shit started to fall apart at work, i got the nasty flu that beat the crap out of me and made me so weak and all climaxed with my ‘mandatory vacation’.

today i can barely move but i hope that this will help me get over the static in my head. i still don't know if im going to run the full or the half. but my head is my biggest hurdle. not the blisters on my feet, or the pain in my legs. its all in my head. and if i want to mentor people at any point i have to get over it.

there is this thing runners (i refuse to call myself one until i cross ‘the’ finish line) called The Wall. what is it? “it is a legendary thing. Usually encountered around mile 20, it's the point where the flesh weakens, the spirit sags and the will drains away into a little puddle on the ground. Legs turn to melting Jell-O and breath comes in short, gasping gulps. In all of sports, there is probably nothing as feared, or misunderstood, as this inner barrier where the unprepared run out of steam and can go no further.”

in my world, my wall became my head. the static in my brain that just wouldn’t let me hear anything else, let me go any further, storm me with powerful emotions and worlds like can’t, won’t, NO. my mind just goes to strange places. sometimes i may be running and think of nothing at all, then think of the events of the day, then think of the a beautiful flowers here and there, then i feel the blisters, or the heat, or i start struggling with my breathing and its all downhill from there on. i don’t think anyone ever explained to me that when i started training my head would hurt as much as my legs (which oddly enough haven’t bothered me as much, the blisters are a killer though). the road blocks in my head have been far worse than any blister, sun burn, chafe, and body ache.

my sports nirvana? the promised land. aka the gate to where we started + the promise of that awesomely cold pool that waited for us when we managed to get back. that got me through the last 6 miles. that and Javier’s stubbornness. instant sports nirvana? i wish it came in the form of a salt pill.

it's an uphill battle.

it has been awhile since i typed away here and many things have happened, miles ran, bad runs had, and yes, hills ran and conquered.

enter the agoura hills 10k (o4.o5) operative word being hills. and the concept of dressing up for a race. NOT halloween.
my 2 partners in crime (beth + lauren) had been thinking about this for awhile and decided that a geeky theme with a sexy twist would do the trick. but there are a few things to consider.

1. chafing. yes. tmi perhaps?
2. heat. running with something polyester-y or long sleeved or some other form or way is a no-no. especially for 6.2 miles. (did i mention uphill??)
3. runnable. you cant just dress up as cookie monster and haul ass. it has to be remotely runnable in a certain aspect.
4. outrageous. of course.
5. what does that leave? ghostbusters. yup. you heard it. complete with original name patches, an army green ensemble, knee high black socks + yes, a radioactive watchamacallit pak.

what does all this outrageousness do? it got me through the hills.
my friends and i had this awesome sleep over, put our 'outfits' together, carbo loaded, + duct taped the life out of 1L soda bottles, radioactive labels + plumbing pipe to make the paks. it was an awesome night. complete with jokes, laughs, stories + ya know, all that girly stuff. and then we got lost. and then we were late. and then we were running up one mothafriggin hill just to get to the starting line. and before we caught our breaths the gun had gone off. peachy.

i hadn't even made it to the first water stop when i had to stop. this was probably 2 weeks after that horrid flu that beat the crap out of me. and i stopped and i walked. for a while. then i picked it up again. the long slow incline did not kill me. it was my body screaming at me, running alone + of course, the smell of manure. you have GOT to love the smell of manure.

at some point i met back with beth and lauren and that was the beginning of the fun part. 4 nasty vertical hills that just wouldn’t stop. and of course, what goes up, must come down so after going up 4 hills you had to run down one of the steepest ones i have seen. greet for sledding. running? not so much. and my favorite? “its all downhill from here on!” uhuh. except for that last 2 hills? oh whatever. i was almost done. i just kept on going.

i was on the last stretch. probably that last .2 and i could not see the finish line. the best thing is that everyone was walking around and chillin’ and i was running, alone, in the middle of the street, with a ghostbuster’s costume. so i crossed. i made it. and i thought i was getting a finisher’s medal. medals were for ½ marathoners.

i’m sorry. but we all deserved a medal for that day. i wear my cheap t-shirt with the agoura hills 10k logo proudly.

now enter Palos Verdes on o4.2o. i got lost for about an hour so by the time i got there i barely had time to stretch, had a new pair of sneakers and just had to GO. it was a cool day, perfect temperature and a great run. i was in a good zone that day. for some reason i didn’t think about it that much and / or think about the distance (15miles) and just went with it. slow and steady. i was doing fine. or good i guess. much better than i had in the previous weeks. there were gorgeous houses, a fantastic view, and a nice soft dirt path to help your knees. but out of the blue i started hurting, around 9.5 miles. a lot. we were supposed to turn around and go back up for the last 5 but i just stopped.

now. there is such a thing as listening to your body and another thing as using that as an excuse. agoura hills was hell but i finished it and there were like 8 times where i just wanted to sit down and just cry. (well, not that bad b/c every time i saw the photographer i stopped, rearranged myself and tried to look like i was having a blast!) there comes a point where i start to hurt and i loose my form. i have heard a million times that i this were easy everyone would do it. so if i start to hurt and loose my form does that mean i should stop at mile 10 when we are supposed to run 15? today i say no. in retrospect i’m confident that it would have hurt me and i would have been waddling but i could have done it.

so should i listen to my body? yes. should i use it as an excuse? no. would i go back to PV and complete the 15? eh. debatable.

there is only one way to run, but there are so many reasons to run.

every week we get an email from our coach with practice dates, updates, tips etc, but he also includes the most beautiful and inspiring stories, messages, quotes to keep us going. this week's was especially moving and i felt i had to respond. i'm not confident about disclosing his personal correspondence to us but i will post my response. he is one of those individuals that you meet and never forget. everyone should have the chance to meet someone like that.
_______________________________________________
coach::

i must admit 2 things. well 3. 1. we all know that i'm a glutton for pain so my Sunday's are sacred and there is nothing more that i look forward to than waking up at the crack of dawn, scratching off the sleepies and going running. 2. i really look forward to your emails because not only are they instructive, they are probably one of the most truthful, raw and uncensored stream of consciousness that i have ever read. the fact that you just pour your heart out for 100 or so people and don't care just to push them across the finish line i find more than inspiring. 3. every time i want to quit i find yet another reason to suk it up and keep on running. jorge my cousin, jen my friend's brother, javier's mami (who is like a brother to me now), and the soul you pour into your emails give me a new reason every week. i only wish i had half the nerve.

after each Sunday run i go home and write in my blog. trying to sum up what i'm learning. hoping that the people that can't have this experience can somehow live it through me.

i stand by my statement : 'tnt challenged where i stand, helped re-discover who i am and ponder where i'm going. my sunday mornings are now sacred'

thank you for making this (somewhat shitty tuesday) much more meaningful. and the experience as a whole.

2 more quotes for you. one from my honored teammate, jen polo

"I am many things in life and they all will shape what's next. When I ride I don't look behind me, only ahead because that's the only place I want to go." jen polo, honored teammate, TNT http://womenwhoride.typepad.com/jen/

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us"- Marianne Williamson

::maria

'hillin' it.

i seriously wonder what is it about standing at the foot of a hill staring at it that messes with your mind? perhaps its the same concept as 'the number' 26.2 miles. but that is an 'adult' thing. that is a 'think before you act' thing. did we even think about this concept when we were kids and got up for 3 steps and fell down? or when we put on those roller blades and scratched the crap out of our knees and elbows? i firmly believe that 'i can't', is a phrase that a child should never learn. a bit of that fearlessness could come in handy once in a while. but then again, i'm not sure it goes well with patience and that alone takes a lifetime to master.

i got hilled today. again.

don't get me wrong, its not like i get to the base of the hill defeated. no hill is going to beat me. and you can call that arrogant or conceited or whatever you want. but i attribute that affirmative statement to my resilient nature. the training starts as usual. a warm up run around .75 mile and then sprint up the hill and full loop. the problem is not the first part of the hill. you could say that it is divided in two. once you cross the street and start the second part of the second hill it feels like someone slammed on the breaks. and someone slammed on the breaks on me and on my chest.

i made it through 5 reps. 2 full loops and the 'walk of shame'. i walked one hill. i could not bear it. and it still beat the crap of my lungs (and my ass). but i went back up. again. and again. with the stubborn nature my mother always complained i got from my father, the same stubborn nature that has gotten me in trouble in the past, and the same one that has helped me get through many an obstacle in my young 30 years.
on one of those loops 2 of my teammates ran with me. the ace man stopped at the top of the hill, hung out, and jogged it out. it made me remember that there is no 'i' in running. there is no 'i' in team. and in 9 weeks i can now sum up the following things about training for a marathon:

• stubborn and patience do not go together.
  
• there is such a thing as an interval watch
• not all socks are made the same. and running ones apparently have L + R on them
  
• absurdly expensive (but necessary) sneakers are crucial
  
• there is a weird variety of space food that you need/should eat mid run
  
• there is a weird-looking deodorant stick-like thing called body glide for chafing. (don't ask)
• i like running in the rain
  
• there is no 'i' in running. there is no 'i' in team. there is a big WE in 'team'. we have each other's back
  
• I.HATE.HILLS

so the hill beat me today. i will beat the hill one of these days. you wait and see hill. you just wait.

breathing it out

so if you poke around here once in a while you know that i was sick last week and that i'm not a fan of the nyquil high. i could not run for 1 week but (and yes you can roll your eyes here) could not stop thinking about it. i missed it. so when tuesday rolled around, i jumped in for our usual tuesday runs. it was my first time back and i (lesson learned) decided that if i needed to fall back i would. i started running with the group, on pace and slowly fell back, but not too far behind, to a point where the conversation became just more background noise in the city. a this point the sun was setting so i just kept going, listening to my steps, regulating my breath and taking it all in.

there is only one way to go running but there are so many ways to run. that tuesday i went back to listening. to myself, to my body, to my feet pounding the pavement, to the smell of the grass, of the landscape as we were running through the neighborhood streets. i could hear my friends talking but i couldn't at the same time and i tried to focus on my pacing, and my breath and what my chest was telling me.

i remembered that it takes me about 2 miles to get warmed up. that when i'm doing great my breath and my pace are timed. that when i'm not doing good i clench my fists and stress my shoulders, that sometimes i catch my reflection in a display window and i'm leaned forward and i correct my posture (blame 10 years hunched over a design table), and that after a week in bed my breath starts to get really heavy and i am in a place now that i know that i have to stop.
the problem with a 'bad' run is that since you are so focused on you you don't get to appreciate where you are running. or take that time to 'take out your frustrations on the pavement'. i remember a couple of weeks ago when we did the 10 miler. it was a gorgeous (but granted very windy) day. i had a great running day and when i was not chatting along with whomever was next to me i was able to just let my mind wander off at the scenery, hear the water splashing on the black granite facade on that house that i love (just 1 interval from the water stop by the way), listen to the sand blow as we run to the end of the jetty and back, and my favorite, the 'dwelling challenged' character that plays the grand piano in the middle of the boardwalk.

like i've said before. it takes 2 months to get in shape and 3 days to get out of shape. i just have to go back to pounding the asphalt. but knowing full well that there will be good run days and bad run days. i need to put up with the aches and pains and remember that this is no longer about me. this is for jorge, for jen, for mami, for coach, for marcia and for thousands more.
on the bad run days?
i just need to breathe.

i've fallen (sick in bed) and i can't run!

1. the only bad thing about getting the flu is Nyquil.
2. the best thing about Nyquil? 180 proof I can safely say that it is the only thing that tastes exactly like it looks like. red. and green. but then again i was high as a mofo kite so i’m not to be trusted.
3. Nyquil. its like someone whacked me in the back of the head with a blunt object. i sleep soooo profound that i wake up hurting from not moving and with my pillow soaked from the slobbering. (yah, not sexy)
4. daytime tv suks. if i had to watch one more episode of real housewives of wherever i was ready to shoot myself. and i’m kind of embarrassed to say that i had seen the re-runs of the re-runs of csi, law and order and the like.
5. there is only so much Oregon trail you can play on facebook before you kill everyone or eat everyone from boredom, madness or the side effects of the ‘non drowsy’ Dayquil.
6. did i mention there is nothing on daytime tv? tk gawd for netflix. and on demand, and your dvd stash. but there is only so much tv you can take until the claustrophobia starts to set in.
7. even though the kitchen is 10’ away it feels like 10 miles away. besides, there is only so much chicken soup, oatmeal and alka seltzer you can stomach.
8. survival tip: blackberry, Gatorade + vitamin h2o. i’m still debating whether the Nyquil high was worth it.
9. i could barely walk. but yet i wanted to run. i missed running. a lot. i missed the tuesday run, the wed hill training, friday / sat runs + the sunday taper. that’s a lot of running. i got winded getting to the bathroom but yes. stubborn ass maria wanted to go runnin’.
10. i started runnin’ this tuesday. it takes 2 months to get in shape and 3 days to get out of shape. being able to breathe would be nice so i could run ya know…
    

lesson learned? breathe in, breathe out and remember that slow and steady wins the race. eh, finishes the race.

big 10 before the big 30!

2 big events happened this week. 1. we 'recommitted' to the race and raise. we signed paperwork, entrance paperwork to the race, filled out 'in case of emergency' stuff, asked around for roomates and guests to the pasta party and victory party and filled in the size of our racing jersey. wow. but that's not the scariest part. we had to put down our credit card number because we are committed to raise our minimum and / or above. if we can't find donations we are responsible for the minimum on our own. so that was kind of scary. i also hand addressed 95 letters as a 'friendly reminder'. hey- some people receive 50 emails before 10am (sometimes myself included) and maybe killing trees can help our cause here.

it took me forever to write that letter. to put the words on paper. to say that jorge (my cousin) passed away 4 years ago and would have turned 50 this thursday. that cancer suks. but that people beat it. that people fight it every day and look ahead because there is nowhere else they'd rather look to. he was taken from us in 7 months from brain cancer. nothing u can do. but leukemia research can help save brain cancer patient's lives too. and that gives me hope for someone else's cousin. that's why we 'bug' so much.

we have all been very active in putting the word out there, sending out emails, sending out reminders, sending out letters. people have great intentions, but it takes time. and patience. something that has taken me 6 weeks of training and almost 30 years to learn. and i'm nowhere where i need to be.
pacing yourself. very very important. listening to your body. very very important. listening to advice. CRUCIAL. i'm really glad that i have been listening. or at least making an attempt (contrary to popular opinion i DO listen)
it HAD to be the candy. the green ones. or the green hat. (kick as* cheers! hat!). or the oranges with salt (long story). definetly the m&m's. and the lemon shot blocks.
today we moved into the double digits. oooh! the big 10 miles. and more importantly, right before my big 30! the weather was perfect, the pace was great, and i was not thinking ahead to the water stop or mile 3 or 6 or the end or the marathon, i was finally able to embrace the scenery and take it all in. the run went by incredibly fast. we ran from shutters to the venice pier, down the alphabet streets, to the end of the jetty, back up again to the pier, back on the boardwalk past shutters, up the 'hill' at the in front of the infamous ferris wheel, up on ocean to california, and down again on ocean to pico and main. even the nasty hill at the santa monica pier didn't kill me. the sand mounds sorta did. well my feet anyhow. there were mounds of sand everywhere and we all got sand in our shoes (and i got sand in my socks) so when i took my socks off after the run i discovered 2 very lovely blood blisters and a few more. (lovely, i know).
aside from that i was chatting with the girls that were running with me, laughing at the eccentricities on the venice boardwalk, (you have no clue. i lived in nyc and i though i'd seen stuff) and sighing at the idea of a cold one at the sight of a HUGE stella ad. we were eating the whole time. or the pit stops seemed closer. but the m&m's and pretzels and gatorade were everywhere it seemed. and ooooh! m&m's. sooo good! but its kind of hard when you think about it, runnin' and chewing and you don't have that much time to swallow stuff. but it sure as hell makes a difference b/c by mile 3 my yummy oatmeal bowl w banana was long gone. but its those little things you have to think about when you go above 5 miles. hydration + food. mid run. it does require some coordination. (do not insert the walking + chewing gum joke here. it does not apply thankyouverymuch!)
so all in all after the 3rd water stop, eating more salt + munching on more m&m's we were on our way back with only 1 mile to go. i still remember the first time i ran that route - it was a 4 miler and i was sweating like that dude on (wait that will gross you out). so today we got back, strolled in, ate yet again! (bagels this time) and then voluntarily got swabbed for a potential bone marrow donor match. AFTER completing a 10 mile run. on a sunday morning. before my coffee + celebrated blueberry pancakes.

ps- the blood blisters on my feet because of the sand? totally worth it!

the land of eight!

i previously mentioned that i had a not so hot salty / fainty experience last sunday. so what happens when my runnin' buddy tells me that she's going to run the sunday 8 miler on wednesday (because she is going out of town)? well naturally i go along. its a perfect night for runnin' and javier, lindsey, beth (we are the group 5 FAB 3!) stephanie and (sorry! cant remember!) trot along and around the howard hughes center. chatting about everthing, not looking at the interval watch for once and attacking the ocassional hill, broken concrete, crazy driver + sketchy dark street. it was a GREAT run.

beth and i were chattin' and we think we broke the 'psychological' wall that at least hits me around the 3 miles. i was not feeling tired or anxious and it came to a point that my legs were just like jello and just kept going (and going and going...).
...and then we went and did the strength training session and passed out. naturally.
so TODAY, sunday, a foggy morning at marina del rey was our scheduled 8 mile run. fab runnin' partner joins us and since i had my very very notable lesson learned last week i'm sporting my hydration belt. with munchies. and gatorade. today i'm running for the coach. he runs for everyone and takes care of all of us and has an uncanny ability to make people loose bets and then stand up in front of 100 people and do THE most ridiculously funny things (that perhaps are not that amusing at any other time except a sunday at 8am). he made me laugh and cry in the same sentence. i cant remember the last time i heard someone speak with such love and devotion about their father. made me wish i knew mine. maybe a little.
we managed to run at the front of the pack (ind you this is group 5, 1130 mile paces-LSD days? long slow distance days?). wait, let me backtrack. we managed to wake up after a fundraising crawl, get to the run, AND those who were at the head of the pack shave 6mins from wed's run. YAY!
i realized something today as i was running along the beach. 1. if i don't focus on the end i can do this, 2. if i forget about the big race, i can do this. 3. i have so many reasons to do this. so i WILL do this.

8 miles is the furthest ive run in my entire life with my 8.5 size sneakers at my 29 years of age.
i turn 30 in 2 weeks. 10 miles by then? mimosas with them waffles! but as always, an 8y-o at heart.

wait, so i just ran 8 miles in 1:36?
LETS GO GET ME SOME WAFFLES!!!!

1 min walk break

Hi Team!

I bet you are wondering how I am doing, because I get asked that A LOT. I always say one thing. I always say, “I’m good.” Then Mom says I should ask “ How are you doing?”. Sometimes, I forget to ask that.

Mom says it is important to ask a lot of times and like all the time, how people are doing. She says the only…okay,… here comes a bad word…the only (whispering) STUPID question is the one that I don’t ask. So, I ask her a lot of things, because otherwise I would just be acting stupid and, duh, I am not.

Sometimes I ask my Mom why I got leukemia. Sometimes I ask her why God would make me have leukemia. Sometimes, okay alot of times, I ask her for toys and sometimes I ask her what something means on tv, because I don’t understand all of that stuff. Sometimes she knows the answer and a lot of times she doesn’t know the answer but she always knows where to look it up.

Mom says you guys have to ask people to give you money so that I can get better. I know that it takes a lot of money, like a bijillion dollars, to make me better because I was just taking a pill that cost $200 a day and I sometimes have to take 8 or 10 pills like that.

I also know that some of the coolest doctors want to play video games with me in the hospital when I ask them and they can’t because they are in a basement doing experiments and reading and learning how to help me. They do this stuff every single day in the morning and then they see all of us sick kids all afternoon. Every time we stay late at the hospital, they are always still there. I think that is why they wear clothes that look like pajamas, because I don’t think they ever sleep.

One time I even saw one of the very quiet rooms in the basement where they do all their work. I asked them to show me and they did. Lots of times I ask to vacuum my own blood into the tubes and send it in the coolest rocket launcher thingy to the lab and they always let me. It’s fun to ask things, because sometimes you get it!

I think it is okay if you ask people for money to help me get rid of this (stupid) leukemia. I think that people will think you are stupid, like if you don’t ask. I think all they can say is “No way”, like my Mom sometimes does, like if I want a Teen video game or caffeine or too much chocolate. So if they say no, you can just go do something else. Maybe ask someone else, if you really want it. I sometimes do that. Sometimes I even ask Mom again and again for the same thing. You could try that too, but sometimes it might not work. But you won’t die from asking.

If you ask someone for some money for kids like me, because it costs so much to take care of us, then you can see what people can pay. Kids give me pennies all the time and it is A LOT of money when we add up all those baggies of money. Some kids give me their whole entire piggy bank or all of their birthday presents. That is so cool. Ok, so if you ask kids, maybe they shouldn’t give you their whole entire birthday money, like my brother, Ryan, is getting ready to have a birthday and he wouldn’t like that. But, he says he would give me “some” money to get well. That's good too, besides, I know he would give me alot to get well so he can start picking on me again. He is too nice to me now.

Ok, then the next thing I would ask is “So, HOW MUCH would you give?” Maybe it would be a little bit, like pennies, that add up or maybe it would be a whole lot. Someone might even have a $100 bill in their wallet and they would take it out and give it to you. Most people have penny jars or quarters laying around their house and maybe they would give it to you. You can also get money from cans and water bottles. You just have to ask people to save them for you. It’s a dirty job, but like Mike Rowe says, ‘somebody’s gotta do it” or we won’t get well. I would also ask people if they have a toy or something that you could sell on Ebay to get money. Sometimes we know people who do that for us.

I would ask for money for this leukemia. I think it is okay. I think it is (whispering) stupid if you don’t ask, because someone might have a lot of money to help me and you might never know it if you don’t ask them. I know ALL (for emphasis)about this leukemia and if you asked me I sure would give you money.

OK, this is so long, so …goodbye. (Spongebob is on tv) If you run by my house, let me know and I will look for you. Just don’t come here and ask me for money right now, because I don’t have any right now. But, when I do, you can have it. You just have to remember to ask me for it and I will give it to you.

That was easy. Bye.

Evan Hutchison

(Written by Evan, typed by Mom and set to the favorite Evan song of the day)

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pass the salt, please?

these past 2 week i have heard the most heartbreaking and inspiring stories of how my fellow runners that are now my friends are taking on their personal 'trail runs'.
on week 5 i ran for javier's mom. and lord knows i'm a stubborn ass and he says i don't listen but what he doesn't know that i do. sometimes. ;) and although i feel that i should be taking care of him he takes care of me. he takes care of everyone around him. his heart is that big. my friend's heart is that big.
that joyful morning run we were asked to meet at the santa monica mts for a 'trail run'. (westridge trail) sounds enjoyable enough right? riiiiiiight. a few things to take into account. no. 1 no water stops. no. 2, enter the hydration belt (or lack thereof). no. 3, while there are no physical lions + tigers or bears (oh my!) there is that little thing called a 4 mile hill (that of course we have to come down from). so while the hill didn't beat me my body screamed at me and told me to listen to it. listen to it. about a mile in on our way back (probably 5 miles into the 7 mile run) i started to get REALLY thirsty and hungry. and i was HOT. (and no, not in the adorable omg i am so cute). like i couldn't bear what i was wearing hot. i started to fall behind from the group and coach christie caught up with me and gave me some gatorade form or other and chatted with me to try to get my mind off of how my body was fighting with me to shut down.

i got to the end of the run to the water stop and just sat on the floor, turned white and could barely hold on to an orange slice. javier gave me a salt pill (yes, who knew?!) and i just sat there, ate half a protein bar that coach allison gave me and chugged water until i could stand up. they think i don't listen but what they don't know is that a. i had no idea and b. i will never EVER forget that one.
lessons learned?
1. EAT A FULL BREAKFAST
2. HYDRATE
3. HYDRATE
4. HYDRATE
5. TNT folks ALWAYS take care of each other.
6. and my personal favorite. this will NOT beat me. SUK IT UP + KEEP ON RUNNIN!

all in all it was an amazing experience. the view, the challenge, the lessons. i would go back and run it. and finish it proudly for me, for josephine, for javier. with my nifty hydration belt full of shot blocks + gatorade, and a pretzel or 2.

why do you run?

there is only one way to run. but there can be thousands of possible reasons to run. everyone has a purpose. but not everyone has a goal. and that is perfectly alright.

i started running for the sake of running and looking forward to running made me smile. it has been quite a revealing experience in many a ways. my body is responding in many ways and learning to 'listen' to it is not as easy as you would think. especially when ive always been a stubborn ass. i.e. i'm sitting at home nursing a fever after a most wonderful weekend of running 8.5 miles. i did not have the best of runs on sunday in the rain and instead of listening to my body i get mad at it. lesson learned.

i push to much. try to hard. try to find the answers when the answers should just come to me. patience is not one of my virtues. and in a 5-mile run when you are pounding the pavement for an hour i need to learn to breathe and go back to why i started running. and have fun in the process.

i am sitting here with a fever reading 'the complete book of running for women' and kicking myself because a lot of the things that i wasn't supposed to do i did between december and january. needless to say i got injured. i was running every day, not intervals, 2.5 miles trying to do it in 20 minutes flat. afterwards i would weight train and my diet was not exactly appropriate for the amount of exercise. so one day i got on the treadmill and my upper thigh started hurting. A LOT. i guess that was my body finally crashing. i went to therapy and was out for 5 weeks. lesson learned. big one.

i will miss today's run and probably tomorrow's strength and conditioning session. it most probably is for the best. running is good for the body, the heart and the soul, but so is being curled up in bed with your favorite flannels.

why do i run? i run with team in training and i run for a cause i believe in. but i also i have until my legs give out to figure it out.

runnin' in the rain!

week 3

when i think of a rainy sunday morning i think of a warm cozy bed, some A+ snugglin' and banana pancakes (insert jack johnson song here). the smell of wet grass and the not-so-amusing sea of black umbrellas along the nyc sidewalks also comes to mind.
waking up and running 5 miles on a sunday morning in the rain? that's a new one.
so this was week 3 and as y'all know by know we run in 1 mile increments so this week it was the big 5. and to top that off in the yum-o gray cloudy rainy day. yes it was gonna be a challenge but its not so much the physical elements you have to battle during the training i'm discovering. first there is my stupid thigh that a. i can't tell if i'm just sore because i ran a 5K yesterday plus the 5miles today , b. its hurtin' because of the elements or c. its just hurting because there are muscles waking up from underneath the (let's call it) 'thunderness'. aside from all that its your brain that gets to ya.
when im running with a group and chatting and the 'what do you do', 'how long have you lived here', 'where do you live', and get all of those particulars out of the way its a breeze. when we were running back from the water stop bree started jumping on all the puddles. and i ran along a whole bunch more. i can't remember the last time i jumped on a puddle. made me smile and feel l ike a kid again. the whole my-socks-are-soaked-and-my-feet-feel-like-lead? not so hot.
i dont know if it was today, i don't know if it was just me, i don't know if it was the weather and i don't know if it was that i fell back and had no-one to distract me but my head started playing games with me. i found myself running alone in this crappy weather and instead of finding my center and that little happy place where i find joy in runnin' i was huffin' + puffin'. my thoughts then traveled to the race. and i wondered wtf was i gonna do if this is only rep 10 of 4+1's of week 3 blah blah blah. it then hit me. it was a combination of something coach said last week and javier said on tuesday's run. i have to relax my hands and arms and just stroll along. and then i also remembered maybe why my feet were draggin'. maybe because my socks were wet from jumping through the puddles! yes. like a 4 year old.
so my lesson learned today? i have to stop sweating the small stuff. 3, 4, 5 miles, who cares? i run for many reasons and right now i have a goal. if i have to jump on a puddle once in a while to crack a smile and forget about the fact that my whole body is aching pancakes, i just might go find me that puddle! (and then sprint for the pancakes!)

i'm gonna go get me some PANCAKES!

so we have already established that waking up at 600am on a sunday morning to go train is nuts. but then add that to waking up at 600am on saturday ALSO but to race. enter here my first official race.
yes people, i had never raced in my entire life. i'm a volleyball player by training. to recap i woke up on a random day in november and decided to be a runner. i don't think i've earned the title... yet, but 1 race down... 3 more to go before the BIG day.
so our training schedule 'requires' us to run 30 mins 3x a week on our own (which today's run kinda counts towards it). on tuesday i went running with javier, marcela and other folks from the team around pico and olympic, u know, to get out of the gym for once. it suddenly hit me that i was one of those folks that you see running on the sidewalk at night or at noon or at the crack of dawn. (only it was 7pm NOT 7am - im a snoozer). but that was me. running. outside. in public.

i had a GREAT run on tuesday and as i was chatting away with the folks we started talking about races and such and the disney half marathon came up, we had gotten an email from coach about the agoura hills 10k and it hit me that i had signed up for the playa del rey 5k way back in january. i got back home and as gungho as i am i signed up for all. and decided i was going to race on saturday after all. hey, why not! its ONLY 3.2 miles!

and we are off! and after my freakout the first time i ran with TNT i know that i need to pace myself. i'm doing 7-1's today and don't feel so hot. but hey. i suk it up. its awesome seeing how some people just breeze through this and others hang out back like me. hey, i'm taking my sweet ass time here. i do have to run 5 miles tomorrow. but then im passing the tents + the water spot and there is yuki so i suk it up again + smile for the camera cuz i RULE. and then i realize there's 3/4 of a mile left. HA. GO MO!

so here i am today, kinda tired and thinking about today and the 10k, 26.2, half marathon and all the other fun times ahead of me. i hung out today with my friend amy who is doing a triathlon. she is insane. am i crazy? oh gawd yes. i think we have established that previously. but at least i'm not doing a triathlon.... yet ;)

ps- best part of runnin? the banana pancakes after!