Unattached

Welp, it has been a year since graduation. And here is what I have learned:

If there was an American Idol for runners I would stand in line, sign up, and pray. I can even see the possible titles now- "The Next American Pre", or "The Skinny", or "Survivor: Olympic Trials Edition", or something of the sort. Maybe Oprah could do a special on...shoot.

There would be rounds, tests, trials, underdogs, front runners, hometown favorites, judges, and, of course, fan voting. Competitors would be tested and judged on consistency, talent, guts, race savvy, teamwork, potential, heart, and that little bit of crazy that all runners have. The runners would get the chance to train at incredible facilities, with the best coaches, and full support teams ready to help them. This would all lead up to races and challenges as individuals and teams to see what the athletes could do given a chance.

I am not saying this would be the next summer hit show, but it would have plenty of drama, work, sweat, tears, and chances to shine. Really. It is a way to work on some of the biggest problems for the sport of track and field- lack of a fan base, lack of support, and the way potential athletes struggle after college.

Selling out you say?

You must not know American distance running. If that is selling out, then it would mean we finally have something to sell to America. Right now, the deal is very little for very few. A lot of good runners don't even stand a chance. Local heroes. PR junkies. Dreamers. Hard workers. The "unattached". The fairly fleet of feet. Doing the best we can with what we have.

It is a hard dream. One that I was half heartedly pursuing. Still loved running. I just had no idea how to keep going. Then, I smiled at the end of my race.

Remembering why

The training was getting hard and I didn't feel like anyone was giving me a chance. For a track girl, it sure is hard to watch all of the great track meets that have been happening this year and not really step on the track myself. The hardest part about trusting in your training is not always knowing where your fitness is, especially in a place you like to perform. And just hoping that you can put something together at the right time. I knew there would be a difference between training in college and training now, but this is pretty different.

Only a mile, leaves you with a smile

Running becomes more of a battle when you are working more than one job and trying to squeeze in the training. You just hope you can get back to where you were in college. Then what happens when you keep improving? Your own legs getting your hopes up. All the work you are trying to squeeze in just to maintain, and all the things telling you that you won't succeed? You know you are going to have to fight to feel good. Well, the fight is back. It came with a smile, a mile, and those awkward legs of mine. A pair of new shoes always helps. Fighting for that someday, one day, maybe chance that someone sees a little more. Or that your legs finally get you there. If no one else sees it, hopefully I can get my legs to take me there anyway...

Someday I hope someone takes a chance. It is a dream I will carry around for a long time. Unattached is tough, but the road is fun and there is always something new to do (and usually plenty of company). I'll just keep smiling, until something makes my smile bigger.

:)

This Little Light of Mine

The fireflies.

They found me in the middle of Texas.

I didn't think it was possible to see them anywhere but my Nana Pat and Papa's house in Iowa. Never did I think they would find me in Alamo Heights. Never did I think I would need a firefly to save me. Never did the underpass on Devine Road seem so magical. The dirt still smelled like the rain storm that just dumped through. Sherlock and I were running down the road at dusk.

Then, that little tiny light flashed. There were three small unforgettable bulbed bugs right in front of me. One of the most beautiful moments I have seen in Texas. Everything was simple. Green hung in the air. Ooooonn. Off. Ooooonn. Off. Ooooonn. Off. Everything else was just frozen, painless, and fuzzy in the background. My life slowed way down in an instant.

My fireflies reminded me of the way I wish I could always live my life. Slow. People laugh when I say I take everything but running slow, but it is the truth. Everything in Texas has seemed to be accelerating since i got here. I miss my speed. And by that I mean I miss my slow. I miss the days that felt like weeks and the moments where I got to just take everything in.

Never has a year passed by so quickly for me. I am no longer the just-graduated. In fact, I just had my first dinner, in a long time, where I really sat down and enjoyed it . (What helped was that the meal was just so incredibly good- sorry I am such a terrible cook Derick!) Does this mean I need yoga? That is what people have been telling me, and I see how that may seem. But reality? I just need some mountains. An ocean. Some sort of aged forest. And birds. Lots of them. An ocean isn't that much to ask, is it? I also need to not be the center of my own world again. That is when my life hits turbo drive and becomes less fun.

Did you know the human ear is tuned to hear best right around the same frequency of most bird song? My sanity lies in feathers and the clear sound of song. Good thing I bought a Groupon to the Mitchell Lake Audubon Center. Time to grab my bins, a sandwich, my hiking boots, and some sunscreen. Hello heaven.

I am getting that urge to go live outside again. It doesn't take long for your life to slow down when you stand next to a forest of trees that took hundreds of years to grow. I need something with rhythm, besides my own footsteps. Ooooonn, Off. That is how you slow your life down. All it takes is one little light to tell you. And one little vacation. Work, do you mind? :)

Green may mean "go" but in a "go slow" sort of way :) Welcome back to my life fireflies.

And Beyond

Listen up.

The mental aspect of running is tough. So much so that we sometimes don't give ourselves a fighting chance to do anything great.

In all honesty I think this should be the quote or theme of SCAC 2011/life:

"Beyond the very extreme of fatigue and distress, we may find amounts of ease and power we never dreamed ourselves to own; sources of strength never taxed at all because we never push through the obstruction" -William James

This sums up running for me. It sums up my goals, why I run, who I want it to help make me, and the reason I like to help other people get better at it. Notice the quote says nothing about winning. Nothing about glory. The quote is about an individual. Does it compare what two runners are doing? NOPE. Does it even sound that promising? NO, it sounds hard. Does it tell you how to qualify for the Olympics or win races? Hell no. It actually tells you to find your point of exhaustion. Wait, what?

Like I said, listen up-

There is a "beyond". Beyond the fatigue. Beyond the toughest work out you have under your belt. Beyond your worst day. Beyond your all-nighters. Beyond you hardest race. Beyond what you think will break you.

Beyond what does break you.

You want proof?

You are still standing. (Well sitting, but imagine with me here)

Actually, standing and reading.

That requires both physical effort and mental effort.

Running takes physical and mental effort.

So, in your past you have had what you thought was your toughest day. But, here you are. Standing, reading, and, hopefully, realizing that you will probably have a tougher day in your future.

Beyond.

Did you quit? Never run another step? No further work outs? Nope. You kept running.

That was physical. You fixed that all by yourself. But to get to the true beyond? I believe you need to fix the mental aspect too. And because some like structure, I thought I would try some steps to get you there:

1.) Sit your skinny runner butt down on a chair with your running shoes on your lap

2.) Put a mirror in front of you

3.) Stare yourself down for a minute- like an animal preparing for epic battle

4.) Open the line of communication- aka begin talking to yourself or visualization

5.) Follow some sort of conversation that convinces yourself to perform well even when you are tired, blown to shreds, cracked, sleep-deprived, under trained, over trained, heart broken, lost, stumbling, and crazy

6.) CONVINCE YOURSELF

7.) Convince your feet

8.) Convince your muscles

9.) Convince your shoes

10.) Convince your heart

Now, steps 1-3 really don't matter and steps 7-10 really follow your lead once you get to step 6. So really it is not that much to do.

I have SCAC fever and as SCAC T&F 2011 approaches I knew I wanted to remind people how to get through it. Most people do more than one event at conference. They deal with crazy conditions, tactical races, and pressure. So, my little SCAC athletes, please do not let the nerves and stress of the whole season tire you out before you even reach the line that day. You have one week to realize everything you have done in preparation for this meet.

You believe you should be tired after a hard work out. Tired after lots of weeks of racing. Exhausted with school. Stressed about life. Did your legs tell you all that? Did your muscles not do what you asked them to do? Or did you tell yourself you should feel tired. Should feel stressed.

All those things that the quote above doesn't mention? Well those happen when you break down barriers. The biggest barrier being your mental self and mental toughness. I don't care if you are a 12 year old kid who thinks he can win the Boston Marathon- with enough mental toughness you can get pretty darn close.* Those races I told my self that I was going to win, I usually ended up losing. The races where I ate my words, my miles, my workouts, my core, and my barriers were usually the ones I succeeded in.

*(I just watched a movie, Saint Ralph, about just that. Very weird but motivational movie if you have some down time as you are searching for "beyond")

Forget that you are telling yourself you are tired and watch what happens. By all means, take full care of yourself and make yourself comfortable.

But strap yourself in and drive towards that moment you know will be tough and experience beyond.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

See you on the oval.

O SCAC, My SCAC

O Conference, my Conference- our trip is nearly done!
These spikes have weather'd every track, the prize sought nearly won.
The line is near, the gun I hear, the people all cheering.
We all converge with jerseys worn, our stares bold and daring:
But O track! track! track!
O the moments in my head,
Where on the line my heart will lie,
My feet no longer tread.

O Conference, my Conference- rise up and bid farewell!
Rise up- for one team has nearly left- for a little we can dwell.
For your hist'ry and golden stripes- for you the line is calling.
For you they call, the gun will start, the final laps awaiting.
Here Conference, dear SCAC!
This team you pushed ahead;
It is some dream that on the track,
The names won't be read.

My Conference knows the answer, the chance happens once more.
The SCAC still has four tigers, and will until one final meet score.
Teams gather towards epic Memphis, a final showdown there.
From trip to track the feet will meet, winning by maybe a hair.
Shoot, O gun, and cheer, O teams!
Thus we hurdle the dead,
Again, fighting for the trophy;
Whose hunger will be fed?

In Defense of the Oval

I have been reading quite a few articles on a certain subject lately. Simply put, people are discussing the difficulty of training post-college. Where should and where can graduated athletes go to continue training? It has been a question that has been on my mind a lot. For a runner like me, with no flashy sponsors, no housing provided, and no top of the line facilities begging me to come train on them, where do I go?

Obviously, if I want to keep training, then I go where I can. I am lucky to have the Trinity Track to train on and a coach who will get up early with me. But, I pay a gym membership to lift. I don't have massage therapists on speed dial. I really miss my wonderful trails to I used to have. I even struggle to find a legitimate way to get in an ice bath, which used to be a core aspect of my training.

But if there is one thing I thought for sure was sacred, it was the track. My zone. The place where the distance is all there, just waiting to happen.

Everything was just right this morning, too. So little wind. And it had been a little while since a longer work out had happened. The horsepower was there.

I wish I could say the biggest power came from my legs, but there was this enormous mower that I had to fight for the track. I was in the middle of my first 2k and a few utility guys rolled up in their golf cart and started moving things off of the grass and into lane 1 and 2. Some steeple barriers, a bench or two, and some kind of fencing material. It was a runner's frogger nightmare. I kept waiting for the track to break in half and make me ford a stream to get to my next split. As I tried to keep my cool, the mower came in. Engines roaring and grass flying. That man was on a mission to make sure every blade of grass was the same length. He went back and forth but always seemed to end up on the same length of the backstretch when I came around. Each time he came to the end of the strip he was mowing he would go on to the track to turn around. I don't mind going into lane two, but this was ridiculous. The track is the one place that I have where I am not supposed to fight fuel powered machines. Yet, we battled.

Of course I finished the work out. Derick helped move things out of lane one. The mower never actually got that close and I probably fought my allergies harder than anything else this morning. But, despite the lack of drama, I still had this sense of violation when I left for my cool down. I know the groundsmen were trying to do the same thing I was by taking care of business early to escape the heat, but where was the respect for the track?

So, now I go on and fight for the oval. My work outs have taken on new meaning. No longer do I stride around the curves in order to get a simple work out in. I have become the protector of the mondo. While I probably wont chain myself to the starting line or try to sabotage the mower gears, I will carry with me the belief that the track deserves respect for everything it is. Those red lanes have let me keep training, in spite of all the things that go against my success. An open, lighted, well maintained track is available for my use. And anyone else who desires to find their own distance. People have started with less.

I have 8 lanes willing to show me the right direction and help my mind find its way through the tough parts. All other sports have it, the sacred spot. The one place where magic happens. Remember that the spring brings us the chance to show the magic of our sport.

Rise to the defense of the oval... 

Puddle Jumping

The air was humid. Like right before a rain in Arizona and during the first week back from summer in Indiana. But it was Texas. It was semi-early. And it wasn't raining, sadly.

I woke up and hoped my feet remembered what to do. Hoped my heart knew how to make my blood flow. Hoped my lungs knew how to catch my breath. And really hoped my muscles remembered how to work. I really hoped they remembered what to do. Because my fingers remembered how to lace my shoes and it felt like someone had teleported me to the starting line. And sometimes my head can get a bit fuzzy.

Who knew that coming back could be so nerve-wrecking?

I saw this kid, #304, sitting and tying his shoes by the line and I just knew he was going to make me feel old today. Work had talked me into doing the race anyway and I thought I could just treat it like my Saturday work out. But now my feet were getting that itch. Like they didn't care what the pace was as long as it was deserving of a pair of wings. My pre-race routine was calling my name.

Shake my arms. Stretch my hips. Swing my legs. Pit stop. Check my number. Loose my warm-ups. Attach my chip. Pit stop. Take my inhaler. Set my mind. Remember my strategy. Today the goal was negative splits. Or some sort of split. Any kind of split. While everything was coming back to me, I didn't really know if my legs would actually remember how to race.

The gun went off a few minutes late, but it didn't really matter. This wasn't nationals. But my legs were excited anyway. From the gun it was me and Mr. 304. A little man in green blew by us after the first 200m and I thought, "really?" this is supposed to be a fun day. So Mr. 304 and I took off stride for stride after him. All of 200m later and it was back to a 2 person race. I was actually really surprised that I was keeping up with this kid. First off he was a guy. Second he had guy legs. Third he had guy lungs. You get the picture. But every time he would start to pull away, I would edge right back up to him. I think it bothers me when people test me like that. But I thought it was better than what the little man in green did. Then, we hit the turns.

It was a short out and back course with quite a few turns that didn't look that bad on paper, but running them turned out to be a fun thing. Track, cross country, or something had prepared me for the turns that day. I just rolled right through and watched little gaps start to form between my stride and 304. Now that felt good. As hard as the race was getting for me, I liked rocking the curves. Mile 1 split: 5:40.

Afterwards, my boss said the guy's face was priceless. He saw the pair of us roll around the turn around and he was gasping. I offered that I was too, or at least I really felt like it, but my boss denied me, "you looked like you could have been running through a field of flowers." Mile 2 split: some where in the upper 5:40's.

That's when I felt the separation build and I took off after the lead cart. I even smiled crossing the finish line. My legs had remembered what to do! I tried to explain to my boss and some of my friends at the finish line after the race the reason why I didn't look so tired or like I joined the struggle bus circus in the race. I was just as tired, just as worn out, and in need of as much oxygen as everyone else. But, college is full of sharks. And if you look like a dying minnow out there, you will be eaten. So, while I may not have always been the fastest going in, I sometimes could pull things off by trying really hard to not look breakable. Non-edible. Mile 3 split: 5:35.

Thank god my body remembered how to do that a bit and my lungs didn't make me sound like I was ready to quit a 3-pack a day habit. To me, it gave me the hope that my dreams of still competing well are not too far out of reach. I had gotten my feet wet. I could see the large pool I was aiming towards, but I also saw the fins swarming in the water. Knowing I am not ready to dive into those shark infested waters, it is time for some puddle enjoyment. Puddle jumping. :)

Final Road 5K time: 17:37 at the Rattler Run 5k. March 26, 2011

Won one for the girls... I am a long way from feeling great, but I am closer to feeling good. More races to come...

SB2011

Minus the Spring Break part.

In Texas, everyone is just finishing up their week of vacation and let me tell you, don't go to Walmart for a quick grocery run on Sunday. People are there buying the whole store!

My mini-SB2011 happened on Saturday after quite a long week. Everybody at work except for me and my boss asked for the week off. So we ploughed through the work week together!

The store was busy and it really helped the week go by pretty quickly. But it also meant it was a pretty tiring week. My first day off was Friday and it was so nice! But I was feeling the effects of the past week very much.

My run on Friday was less of a run as it was me trying to push the world off the bottom of my feet. My leg muscles stopped working at about half a mile in and my feet became my heroes. Thank goodness I have forced them mile after mile in the previous years because that was the only way they finished the run Friday. They were little machines. Well, big machines. But they didn't have the rest of me to support them. So I got through the run Friday and tried a mini-work out on Saturday, which ended up being mini. And it was still my feet that got me through it. My muscles were just pretty useless this week. All because I did not fuel them correctly. Luckily I got back to my regular schedule this week. And the little pep in my step is slowly returning.

It reminded me of why the little things matter so much. You can push yourself as much as you want. Run yourself into the ground. So easy to do. Time to learn from it all. Take my feet a few more steps. And stay thankful that they still really know how to do their job.