Just One Marathon

All In But Not All There

I’m a good wife. So when The Runner I Married settled down in front of the television recently to watch his beloved Toronto Blue Jays trounce the Boston Red Sox (he only likes to watch if they win), I joined him. For me, baseball is like a really long episode of “What Not To Wear”. The polyester suits, the questionable facial hair choices, the leather belts (on sports wear, really?) – it’s a highly enjoyable fashion train wreck. Though he has never mentioned it, I’m sure TRIM enjoys my insightful commentary.

Between innings, a new Adidas ad aired, part of their well publicized “All In” campaign. And that gave me a whole new avenue for criticism. If you haven’t seen it, here it is:

I’m not sure what you notice about this ad, but I’ll tell you what struck me. Where are the women athletes? Oh sure, there’s lovely Katy Perry doing her thing. And perhaps one female athlete squeezed in there (I had to watch the ad a few times on Youtube to find her).* But all the other athletes in the ad are male – basketball players, skateboarders, boxers, soccer players.**

Here in the real world, I know lots of women. Many of them are athletes, but hardly any of them are famous pop singers. At running events, they are not standing on the sidelines shaking their booty. They are standing at the start line, ready to compete. They buy sports gear, and lots of it. Some of it is probably Adidas. So I have to ask you, Adidas, what world are you living in?

* To be fair, there’s a longer ad that features more women. You can see it here. But the balance is still skewed towards the Y chromosome. And most people would likely see the 30-second ad.

** And one final footnote: Adidas is not alone in more plentiful – and more empowering – portrayals of male athletes versus female athletes. Don’t even get me started on Sports Illustrated and its swimsuit edition.

Snow: I'm Sick of It

Looking back on this blog, I notice that every January or February, I write a post about how sick and tired I am of winter running. Some people might call that repetitive. I call it a tradition. Here is this year's edition:

In Ottawa, it’s not cool to say you don’t like snow. In fact, one way to show your sporty-hipness in this city is to express great joy every time the flakes start to fly, and to be bitterly disappointed if the snow doesn’t amount to much. That’s because much of Ottawa embraces winter sports – skiing, skating, snowshoeing, dog-sledding, and eating beaver tails on the Rideau canal.

Even The Runner I Married has joined the hoards. Last year, he bought a pair of light-weight, aluminium running snowshoes. Yup, you read that right. Running snowshoes. They are billed as an alternative to running on icy pavement and look something like this:

 
Apparently, he turns heads when he comes bounding along a trail wearing them. And they are an incredible cardio workout that is easy on the legs and knees.

I, on the other hand, do not acknowledge the existence of winter sports. Instead, I take what is essentially a spring and fall sport – running – and do it all year long. That means that in August, when I’m sweating it out a long run in 30 degree C weather, I yearn for cold, crisp winter weather. And in the winter, I realize just how stupid that kind of thinking is. Because it sucks to get out of a nice warm bed in a nice warm house to spend time in sub-zero conditions doing an activity that is painful and tiring. Plus, it requires a lot of clothing -- though I'm never sure of the exact right layerage. Too much, and I can feel the sweat running down my face and then freezing on my cheeks. Not enough, and I just get the freezing part. 

But the really, really bad part of running in winter is the snow. Snow makes sidewalks disappear and the small ribbon of remaining curb become dangerously slippery. It gets in your shoes. It causes snow plows to appear, not before your run, but during it. These days, when I reach a clear patch of pavement, I want to kneel down and kiss its salty, gravel-strewn surface. 

Sure, it looks pretty, drifting from the sky and blanketing the trees in white. But to this runner, snow is just not cool.

There's No Crying in Running

Imagine you decide to bake a cake. You’ve picked the right recipe, cleaned the kitchen, carved out some time from your busy schedule, found the baking pans, bought the ingredients and mixed them up. As you put it in the perfectly-preheated oven you think: this is going to be amazing. Then 20 minutes later, the power fails.

 

That’s how it feels to me when I end up walking it in after a long run. It feels like a waste of effort – like I’m stuck with a half-baked cake. I sometimes loathe the thought of heading out the door for a run, but I absolutely hate starting a run and not being able to finish. It’s incredibly frustrating.

 

In fact, on my last failed long run, I felt my eyes welling up with tears as I walked it in. I was so tired and discouraged. I felt like a failure. Then I felt silly. Because running is a hobby, done for fitness and fun. It’s nothing to cry about.

 

And that got me thinking about the scene in “A League of Their Own” where Tom Hanks, playing the manager of a women’s baseball team, tells one of the players, “There’s no crying in baseball!” Which started me laughing. Which made me look like a crazy person. So basically, everything was back to normal.

 

Enjoy!  

 

 

 

Discomfort: A Simple Equation

One long run in hot weather + a sleeveless running top = a wicked case of pit burn.

Pit burn is my term for heat rash under the armpits. Don't worry, I won't post pictures. It lasts for days, and while it's certainly not the worst pain in the world, that hasn't stopped me from complaining incessantly and showing my armpits to anyone who will look (and even a few people who won't).

Luckily for the viewing public, I've been on vacation this week, so there haven't been a lot of opportunities to flash my pits. This year we are `stay-cationing` -- just hanging around, doing stuff locally, taking short trips and remembering how much our kitchen reno cost. The stay-cation has been great for my running routine. Tomorrow, The Runner I Married and I will run a 5K race. While I'm not fool-hardy enough to set 25 minutes as my goal, I'm definitely aiming to break 26 minutes. We'll see.

Imaginary Problems

Good news! My crappy running performance is already paying off – in life lessons. For the last couple of days, I’ve been really disheartened about the fact that I’m so much slower than I was last fall. That feeling has not helped my mental outlook or running abilities.

 

So I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve realized that I can divide my worries into two categories: real problems and imaginary problems. Here’s the breakdown, for example, when I consider my recent running effort:

 

Imaginary problems:

- I’m not a “real runner” if I’m not going fast.

- Completing the half-marathon or any other running event somehow won’t be as much of an accomplishment if I finish one or two minutes slower.

- I’ll never get my speed back.

- I think I might be a lazy slacker.

 

Real problems:

- I’m not feeling as energetic as I once did on my runs. I often feel tired, sluggish and out of breath

- I’m not running as many kilometres as I used to run because work and school are much more demanding.

 

Some of my imaginary problems might end up being real problems – I might never get my speed back. But dwelling on my “imaginary” problems does me no good at all. It just turns running into a big source of guilt and frustration, which is the opposite of what running normally does for me.

 

The “real” problems I have can be addressed. To feel more energetic, I can make an effort to get more rest, get my iron levels checked, pay more attention to my eating habits, or just count on the healing powers of time as I gradually recover from a recent cold. As for running more kilometres, I can either work really hard to carve out more running time, or just accept the fact that I’m giving what I can right now. 

 

Also, listing my real problems reminds me of all the real problems I don’t have. For example, I’m not injured, I am perfectly able to complete the required distances, and I am recovering really quickly from my long runs. 

 

And a big reality check here: in the grand scheme of things, running a little slower is not any kind of problem – real or imaginary. For that, I am grateful.

All of the Above

Here’s a multiple choice question for you. You have packed up your gym bag in preparation for a run or a workout during your lunch break. Which of the following would you rather forget?

 

A. A towel. (Giving you the option of air-drying – not really viable if you’ve got to put on panty-hose or another similarly body-hugging garment afterwards – or using those nasty rash-producing brown paper towels from the bathroom dispenser.)

B. Running socks. (This is the worst piece of running gear to forget, because it simply does not provide an adequate excuse to skip your run. You must run anyways, shoving your bare feet into what are probably the smelliest two items you possess. If you have to forget running gear, forget the shoes – a definitive run-stopper.)

C. Your Garmin. (If you go for a run in the forest, and there’s no Garmin to record it, did you really run at all?)

D. Post-run clean underwear. (A situation which forces you to decide on whether to forgo the extra layer between your naughty bits and the elements during your run, or go about your post-run business in a skivvie-deprived state … a problem you can’t really share with anyone except your friends in the blog world, because telling people you’re not wearing underpants at an afternoon meeting likely qualifies as harassment. There’s a reason they’re called “unmentionables”.)

Me, I can’t decide. So I’ll probably just go on forgetting one or the other every couple of weeks until I come up with the correct answer. Dammit.

...And Then What?

"Beginning Monday 19 May, you will enter the final phase of your pre-race taper. Some of you will feel very heavy, and your usual sunny disposition won’t be quite so sunny. Warn those close to you and be aware that your mood may be off. This is a normal reaction to the reduction in your training mileage.” – Words of wisdom from Tom, our marathon clinic leader

Why wait until Monday? Despite being early into a gradual two-week reduction of miles, I’m already feeling a bit blue. The reason – and I feel stupid admitting this – is that this marathon training roller coaster will soon be over. Yes, there have been cold mornings, sore muscles and bloody toes. But there’s also been the excitement of preparing to do something I never thought I’d do. What will I do without the constant planning, worry and underlying excitement of preparing for race day? What’s next? 

My post-marathon plan-of-record is to quit and never run again. But who am I kidding? I’ve gotten used to this fit new body I’ve been building. I like feeling strong and powerful. And I love having a goal that excites me.

Nonetheless, another marathon is out of the question right now. I have already put too many other things on hold to do this. Plus, I am really, really, really starting to bore my friends and family, who have endured (with remarkable patience) endless one-sided conversations that must sound something like this: “Blah, blah, blah MARATHON, blah, blah, blah, BLISTERS, blah, blah, blah, GROIN PULL.” Um, sorry guys. And thanks.

So now I feel downright panicky about not having another motivating running goal on the horizon – something that will get my butt out the door on hot (and eventually) cold days. Something to visualize while I’m out there on the 10th kilometre of a 20+K run.

It feels like there’s a big, empty void, looming just beyond race day. Is this normal? And how do I make the feeling go away?

Can't Stand the Heat

Variety is the spice of life. So, every week, I like to come up with a different excuse for my slow running pace.

This week’s excuse: it’s too warm.

This is a radical departure from my slow-running rationalizations for the past few months (too much snow or ice, poor pavement conditions, high winds), which all pretty much boil down to the same thing: it’s too cold.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the warm weather and I’m thoroughly enjoying dry pavement and sunlight early in the morning and late into the evenings. But while my spirit is revelling in the spring weather, this northern runner’s body is taking a little while to adjust.

Still, as problems go, it’s a pretty nice one to have. So I’m not complaining – much.