…aka a lesson in listening.
I decided to use this race as an experiment. I “signed up” last minute (and by that, my friend Emily gave me her bib – thank you again!) and went back and forth from trying to race, to running for fun, to somewhere in between. I decided I would go sans watch (!) and just run by feel and for fun — I wanted to really tune into how my body was feeling instead of relying on the numbers which “try” to do the same thing.
The verdict? It was insanely awesome. And look ma’ — my splits were insanely even:
I was in Wave 2 so crossed the start line at 36 minutes. I only took notice so I could figure out my finishing time – not try to calculate my splits throughout. The first half the course, from leaving the Brooklyn Museum to doing one loop of Prospect Park, was what I like to call “weave city.” I started pretty far back with a lot of people running 9-10 min/miles; I triiiied to creep up as far as I could to the beginning of Wave 2, but I was still behind what felt like thousands of people.
But because I had no watch and had no set expectations, I just had fun with it. Made it a game. If you picture a straight line, I was painting figure 8′s all over the course. Hopefully pretty ones.
But I was still listening. I remember Corey telling me during her 70.3 she’d continually ask herself, “How am I feeling? What do I need?” I tried this out at Eugene, but was in such a bad state I’d only tell myself “I am feeling like shit. And I need to stop.” Yet for this half-marathon, I gave it another go. By mile 5, my legs were a bit tired from weaving so much, but I told myself it was because of the weaving, not because of pace or lack of endurance. I said: “I’m feeling a little tired.” I need to start running in a straight line.” Other examples throughout:
I’m feeling great, I need to speed up.” (Mile 6)
“I’m feeling a little bored, I need to listen to ‘Mirrors.’” (Oh, miles 8-12 on the highway…)
I also did something very new to me: I stopped at almost every single water station. (And there were like a hundred of them?) The water stations were especially tricky — people literally would stop to grab a cup of H20 and I would nearly topple on top of them. But I found that gulping down some water made me feel better instantly (MIND BLOWN). At mile six I felt worlds better than mile 5, and decided to pick up the pace a bit to something that resembled a tempo pace.
I still made sure to only tune into how I was feeling. When I felt a little off, I took a Gu. When my legs felt a bit heavy, I focused on form and running in a straight line (I was still weaving…). I didn’t have a watch blinking in my face, so I didn’t have to worry about a pace too fast or a pace too slow . I had to worry about when I was feeling good and when I was feeling off, and how to change that.
It was so freakin freeing.
I was so pumped that at mile 12 I decided to spread my love with the camera man:
At mile 12 I once again re-evaluated how I was doing, and realized how much I still had left in the tank. This was super reassuring. I was wondering if I’d be able to find Steph along the course, and was SO STOKED to hear her cheer (lookin’ fly in her oiselle tank) right at mile 13.
To finish the course, all the runners had to climb up a small ramp to the boardwalk, yet people decided to stop and WALK. I was kinda mad; my Laura-gets-all-serious-about-running flips on at the end of races, and I once again was weaving through people up a metal ramp onto the board walk. But I made it.
I finished strong and happy — pretty much the complete opposite of Eugene. I took two gels and lots of water and gatorade, which made a huge difference, too. And the no watch thing? Crazy awesome. Never before have my splits been so even. Never have I felt so good during a race.
Now..I know I wasn’t going all out, so running harder would of made it, well, harder. But regardless… it’s a good learning lesson. Listen to your body. Don’t always stare at your watch. Fix your form, and remember to smile.
Oh, and always run half-marathons. They are so much more fun (…and shorter) than marathons.
…cause why not?
Let’s turn to the web:
Trips to Blockbuster have turned into movies on Netflix
Grocery store runs have turned into FreshDirect orders
Credit card bills, account transfers, and check deposits — one click away
And meeting and falling in love with people…online. Well shit.
For the record, I am not against online dating. I’m….just against using it myself. And it’s not only because out of the six whole OkCupid dates I’ve been on, all six were train wrecks, though let’s get some context going:
1) took me to Applebees in Times Square and ordered me their “perfect margarita”
2) spent $60 on four cocktails and then would only text me facts about cats
3) stood me up then asked if I wanted to “hang out” at his apartment at 11:30pm on a Monday
4) ended up being from my hometown and his mother was my home economics teacher
5) made out for a few hot seconds post-drinks where he said “that was awesome” and then never heard from him again
6) 98% sure is gay
The other problem with OkC is the whole ‘leading up to the actual purpose of the site’ thing (You know..meeting.) Before that comes the dreaded messages, 60% of which are creepy, 30% painfully witty, 5% spam, and the other 5% promising until you see they are 5’6 (no offense) and in law school. Why is everyone in law school?
For example, here are the first lines of a few recent messages which mainly fall into the “creepy” category:
spam/ I love adventure
Welp, I’m not
Is this English?
Dude, tone it down
Sorry I only date deities
See? Okay – and other people have had success with OkC and other online dating services…and that’s awesome. Two of my best friends recently met their now love-of-their-lives online, and another just moved many miles away to live with her once OkCupid romance. I’m not denying that it works.
But I like the narrative involved with meeting someone in the real world. There is the “playing Neil Young in a Ghanaian courtyard hours after I’ve landed in Africa,” the “shared a summer house roof where I was accidentally tanning w/o some clothes on” and “in a bar and sarcastically commented on his weird looking hat.” Those stories, among others, are what make meeting people so fascinating and fun.
Meeting people IRL isn’t any more natural (if anything, it’s weirder) but it’s more interesting and engaging. Judging someone by their body language, poise, and actual drink of choice is way more exciting than reading a profile where he can’t live without more than six things and has a witty way of saying it.
So that’s that. I also think (sorry I have so many opinions) going online is great for people who actively want to go on dates. Dates suck! First time dates when you have to give the whole who-what-where-when is so tiring and boring and forced. And then there’s the ‘willhebuymydrink’ and ‘willhekissmegoodbye’ and also you usually know within .2 seconds of meeting the dude (or gal) that it’s not worth your time and then you’re stuck there. In Applebees. Drinking “the perfect margarita” and wondering when the magic, the romance, of online dating will begin.
Read. My mom told me about a cool column in The NYTimes magazine, Lives, where she read this story: My Desperate, Stupid, Emotional Hunt for the Perfect Pants. It’s short and charming, and would make for a perfect Sunday AM read over coffee. (I read it on my Pocket app at 8:30 on a crowded subway going into Manhattan, so it lost some of its effect. But I still really enjoyed it.)
Think about. Leaving the Internet for a year. Would you do it? Cause this guy did.
Cook with. Coconut oil holy shit. I debating buying it ($5.99). But… then I thought about the times (read: all of them) when I don’t flinch buying a $6 well whiskey or $8 salad for dinner. (Until now, shit.) So I did it (yolo) and cooked sweet potatoes, onions, and black beans w/ it to make quesadillas for Meg. Since she helped me carry home my microwave from Manhattan. And all the food I cook normally tastes just like olive oil and salt.
Watch. A LAZY CAT ON A TREADMILL. This is how I felt most mornings when marathon training.
Try. Meditating every morning. I’ve been doing 10 minutes of yoga + 5 minute of “meditation” before work every AM for three or so weeks now. Unfortunately, I haven’t reached Nirvana yet, but I’m waiting patiently. Good news though: They (who is they?) also say that trying to meditate is meditating, in which case I’ve re-defined meditating to be thinking: “breathe in green, breathe out blue, expand the rib cage, will I get all my work done today, should I clean the dishes before I leave, do I have clean running clothes, stop thinking, go away thoughts, I’m stressed, I suck at meditation, breathe in acceptance, breathe out stubbornness…”
Listen to. I forgot about this song by Kimbra, but I’m a sucker for really good (and super raw) live clips. And this one does it for me. AND LOOK AT THAT GRIN!
Appreciate. Running. On my first run back after Eugene (took nine days off) I went without music or a watch, and realized how happy I was to just be able to run. I think I stopped appreciating running while I was training — I forgot how lucky I am to be healthy, injury-free, and simply able, with some sort of relative talent. Also, I love it. Lots of people hate running. (Like this guy). And that’s something to be grateful for. Both Jocelyn and Meggie wrote on similar topics, so go check em out.
Almost three years ago, I was sitting in my hometown’s library writing cover letters and wondering if I was ever going to get a job. I began reminiscing about the road trip I had just returned from, and instead of writing the next line of my resume, I googled “write a blog,” made a WordPress account, and wrote my first post. I decided I’d create a blog that recapped our trip. One post for each day, then it would be done with. If anything, blogging would give me a break from the unanswered cover letters, and let me relive what remains one of the most important and amazing experiences of my life.
I totally didn’t have twitter, nor did I really want to promote the blog. So I did the whole “hesitantly email some friends and fam the URL” and hope for the best. I even found the email (!)
When I hit Day 26, I remember I was sitting in my new bed in Maryland, which was in the basement of my best friend Danielle’s house. I also remember being pretty bummed — I had enjoyed writing about our trip, and was sad that the experience was now over.
I totally thought the blog would be a closed chapter in my digital life, signifying not only the end of our trip, but the end of writing. Yet… I wanted to keep writing. I felt like there had to be something I could contribute, even though I was no longer living out of a tent, no longer staying at raw-vegan homes in Arizona, seeing live country music in Nashville, or scrambling up red rocks in Utah.
So I kept writing. I figured that with my move to D.C., I’d have something to talk about that wasn’t just “all about me.” My fear was I’d only be writing about boring things and the blog wouldn’t serve any purpose. I wrote:
So, I decided I might try to keep this going. I think I got over my initial fear of blogs–just as long as I refrain from telling you about mundane, daily nuances, or start showing you pictures of my children on their first day of school (kidding). Those blogs are the WORST.
For me, movement has always meant progress. I paralleled travel with learning, with living life fully, and new experiences meant new opportunities — which had to be on planes, trains, and automobiles. Moreover, movement was a reason to write. If I was staying settled, what could I contribute? How could my life still be interesting?
Yet writing for the past few years while being more or less “settled” has taught me more than I ever thought. It’s a way for me to realize that life can be one really cool adventure even when I’m living in Brooklyn, even with my passport not stamped as often as I would like, my tent tucked away in the back of the closet. I’ve also become a better writer, and have become closer to finding “my voice.” And that voice has become a way for me to improve in general. I realize now that I write to become a better person – to work on the things I struggle with, to realize that life is fun and funny and not-so-serious and magical and…all that.
Two of my close friends and adventure partners-in-crime cornered me the other night over tequila. We were more or less very intoxicated, and I started going off about how I often feel misplaced in New York. But they gave me sound (albeit drunk but still awesome) advice, which was that New York can be just, if not more life-changing than a backpacking trip or a move to another coast. And that my writing is a place to ignite that excitement, to find the beauty of wanderlust not miles and oceans away, but just around the block.
And they’re right. And so I continue,
When I was a kid, I was scared of the seesaw — afraid the little boy or girl on the other side would jump down on their seat and blast me off into the sky. I also used to do gymnastics (little Laura in a leotard…) and the balance beam was my least favorite event. (It was so boring. Also, I sucked at it). And even now, balance poses are the hardest for me in yoga; my leg is always shaking, I often can’t pull my body back into half-moon.
The moral of all this? I suck at balance.
But not just literal balance. The other type of balance, too: the balance you can’t hold, or even see, or doesn’t require one leg up and your gaze at a fixed point in front of you. I’m talking balancing all the happenings in life. How to juggle work, rest, social life, love, health, sleep, exercise, game of thrones, and whatever else is going on while remaining a sane and happy human.
My problem is I try to give 150% of my heart into every area of my life. And if you add up those percentages, that means my chest pretty much explodes. But once I find that right equilibrium, I feel calm. Anxiety goes away and the pressure on my chest is lifted. When I’m balanced, I feel more energized, and life…just seems to make more sense.
And while it’s totally hard, balance is so worth working on. If anything, it’s way less terrifying than hopping on a seesaw. So here’s what I think are the hardest things to balance, but why finding that balance is so, so important:
Work – I really wish there were more than 24 hours in a day to devote to Greatist, but when I try to do even half that, I realize how quickly I can get overwhelmed. When things get crazy at HQ, we’re actually encouraged to take a day off – to reboot and reenergize before jumping back in. The importance of scaling back has helped me be more creative and productive.
Exercise – Since running and exercise have become so habitual to me, I honestly would love to do it 7 days a week. But, I know the body needs rest. And it’s not just balancing on days with off days – it’s the recovery days with the tough workouts, the runs with the yoga, the strength mixed with the speed. While training for a marathon, I was told that every workout had a purpose – even the slow days. Rest is so necessary. Targeting other muscles key. Balance intensity, add variety, and your body will stay happy.
Social – There’s never a shortage of things to do, people to see, da clubs to bop around at, so on and so forth in New York. And I’m usually down to do anything always, because I love being around people. But there is an importance behind getting bored (fuels creativity) and being alone (…also fuels creativity). Basically, being social kills creativity. KIDDING. But you catch the drift here. Make time for friends, and time for yourself.
Love – Ever been in one of those really intense relationships where your life became blurred with theirs? While that can be lovely and all that jazz, a balanced relationship (or a single life) fosters self-love and self-validation — concepts that can become blurry if you’re in one of those romantic situations where everything becomes about the other person.
Health - Aka moderation, you have to balance the good with the not-so-good to say sane. And that’s basically what Greatist is all about: making healthier choices some of the time. So have your carrots and eat your cake. Why? Because carrots are good for you. But cake is delicious.
Where do I even begin? Well, here I guess:
A PR and a BQ. I ran my heart out and left every single thing on that course. But, I also realized I still have a LOT to learn, and my emotions are a mix of being incredibly pumped and a tad bit disappointed. (I know, I knowww.)
But what’s way more important than 26.2 miles is the 72+ hours in Eugene, where I spent such an incredible weekend with really, really amazing people. Like I’ve said a million times over, the community is what makes running so special, and what makes training for and running a marathon so so worth it.
Anyhow, this is what went down.
As the race drew near, I was kind of quiet about my goals. But in my head my A goal was sub 3:30, my B goal was to BQ, and my C goal was to PR. Yet after I talked to a bunch of people who’d followed my training, I started believing/was pretty much convinced a sub 3:30 would be relatively “easy,” and I shouldn’t hold back. Soooo within 24 hours I convinced myself I was a 3:20 marathoner, and dove in head first at the starting line. Yikes.
Miles 1-4: 7:48, 7:28, 7:39, 7:43
By mile five, I knew I was going out too hard. Actually, scratch that. By mile two I knew I was pushing it. But I also knew I went out way too slow at Wineglass (8:40s!) and I decided to just take a risk and see what my body could handle. At every mile mark I wanted to pull back, but I was feeling relatively strong, and was also running with Kristina (who ran a 3:17..AMAZING) so it was fun to have a run buddy. My watch splits zonked out after mile 5 (which in hindsight was good, or else I’d see those splits get slower and slower…) and by mile 8 I had left Kristina (actually, we hit a hill and she left me…). At this point Mason jumped in to run with me/feed me nuun, while convincing me my pace wasn’t actually slowing down (were you lying??) and I was still running strong and right on schedule. But in my heart I knew I couldn’t keep up with the pace, and that the next, oh, 16 miles, were going to be a struggle.
It was a little daunting.
Still smiling here at mile 9 (thnx for the photo, Em!) though it was more like a “shiiiiit this is fast #yolo” smile:
I crossed the 13.1 mark at 1:41 (PR!!) and by then I’m pretty sure anyone who was tracking me figured I’d either a) just run the half-marathon race, or b) was going to keel over and die. I chose option c) which meant I had to hold on for dear life. For a long time.
Miles 14-20 were pretty much the hardest six miles of my life. I couldn’t lock into a rhythm, and basically hit “the wall” by mile 15 (yeah, a tad early…). I was super, super woozy, but taking chews made me nauseous and drinking water made me cramp up. I was so delirious at one point that I splashed gatorade all over my face (thought it was water…) and didn’t even care. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to pull over, how many times I looked for a twig I could trip and fall on, or how many times I said “I’d be happy with this 1:41 half, and even more happy stopping and putting a beer to my face.”
Instead, I somehow kept going. My mantra became “I am so much more than a number, I am so much more than a number” and I stopped caring about time or pace. I started listening to “We Are the Champions” on repeat (Mighty Ducks II FTW). And most importantly, I reminded myself of my training: of every early wake up call, tempo run, long run, and stride. I couldn’t let myself fall apart this easily after all of that hard work. I focused on just one foot in front of the other — just one mile at a time.
When I hit mile 20 (FINALLY), I knew something had to change. I was running the last 10K for one my closest friends. I asked her what miles she wanted me to run for her, and she simply responded “the hardest ones.” She’s insanely tough, so I knew if she could push through what crazy life can throw at you sometimes, I could at least spit out some 8:30′s. And by some crazy miracle, I did.
I felt faster, I felt better, and was able to stomach a little bit of gatorade and another chew. I felt relatively and miraculously okay until mile 25 — when the course throws you into this grassy field with no sight of the road ahead, which somehow opens up to the street, into Hayward field, the track, and the darn finish line.
I pushed as hard as a could (which was probably an 8:50 pace, let’s be serious) and thank goodness Mason ran with me again and helped me stay composed for those final 800 meters. I reached the track, and couldn’t even soak in the magic of running on it. I could barely see straight, aaand could barely keep my head up. Form fail.
I crossed the finish with my hand over my heart for Boston. My legs immediately locked up, I grabbed my medal, and I did everything in my might to stay standing. I hobbled around with Meggie (who ran a damn amazing race) and we searched for chocolate milk while spitting out post-marathon nonsense like “BQ… I’m so happy… fuck… this hurts… where..is..chocolate..shit..BQ..that was intense…unicorns.”
But I did it. It sure as hell wasn’t pretty, but I know I left everything on that course, and don’t have a single regret.
And can I run faster? Deep down I know I can. But I went out too hard, and am proud I was able to hang on for so long. And a BQ for my second marathon aint too shabby either (:
But I’m also not sure the marathon is for me. Coming from someone who ran 400′s in high school (that’s one lap around a track), 26.2 miles (105 laps if you’re curious) is a daunting distance. I actually think the 10K-13.1 mile distance is my sweet spot. That said, there is something that will always be different, always magical, always hell-bent-crazy-insanely-beautiful-soul-searching about a marathon that no shorter distance can compete with.
I also learned a lot. My two biggest struggles are pace (duh) and nutrition. I consumed 7 chews the whole race (roughly 220 calories, aka not enough) plus a few swigs of gatorade, water, and nuun (maybe 12 oz in total, if that). And that…is laughable. It’s absolutely not enough, and it’s absolutely why I felt so weak for much of the race. But I also couldn’t imagine my body being able to take anything else in without cramping up or feeling super nauseous. So I still need to experiment. Figure it out. Start out more relaxed, consume more calories, keep listening to Queen, and keep remembering to have a fucking blast. I’m just not sure the marathon is where I should do it. And I’m completely okay with that.
So will I try to sign up for Boston? Let’s be serious….probably. And will I run another marathon before next spring? There’s a decent chance. But one step at a time. For now, I’m just reveling in the fact that I spent such a wonderful weekend with a group of fantastic people. I couldn’t ask for a more special house and a more special group of other Internet friends turned IRL friends who made this weekend the best, regardless if I ran a 3:20 or a 4:20 (or I guess a 3:33).
And while Eugene maybe didn’t reignite my love for marathons, it absolutely reignited my love for running.
And after my the blisters heal, my quads feel like normal again, and I can sort out the 80,000 other things happening outside my running life, I can’t wait to get back out to the roads and see what I can accomplish.
Until the next starting line.
First off, I want to thank everyone so much for the support, encouragement, and congratulations from not only this past weekend’s marathon, but the whole training cycle. It was an incredibly fun experience as I recapped weekly runs, had weekly meltdowns, experienced weekly bliss, and tried to stay sane before finally toeing the line. And I can’t really believe it’s over.
Race recap coming super soon — just waiting to see if brightroom decides to be on my side and have some pictures where I don’t look like death on the course. But for a sneak preview/condensed version: I BQ’d, I ran a stupid race, I’m proud, I may be done with marathons forever, and I’m in love with all things west coast and running friends.
One very special gift I received before the race was from my co-worker/love of my life Giuliana. She put together these notes for me and my other friend Meg who ran the Nike Half: they are tiny, tiny letters with mantras that she and my other co-workers wrote. It came with a magnifying glass. So amazingly thoughtful.
I also had my biggest cheerleader, my mom, tweeting up a storm. She’s better at social media than me.
@lschwech and all the runners in Eugene today – best of luck!! Thinking of you on the East coastand sending God’s Speed!
— Anne Schwecherl (@Anne1204) April 28, 2013
In other news, I can safely say even if I a) ran a shitty race or b) didn’t run at all, I still would have had a blast in Oregon. I was there back in August for Hood to Coast, but mainly running on open highways in the middle of the night or half sleeping/eating M&M’s in the back of a van. This time I could see Oregon in a static state – all the GREEN, all the hippy but actually cool restaurants and shops, and all the dang good IPAs.
The other highlight of the trip was simply hanging around our house with Molly, Corey, Allison, Holly, and Steph. We nerded out and talked about running (obv) for most of it. From picking apart race strategies (7:40 too fast, 7:50 okay…) to Gu consumption every 5 miles, to speed workouts at MGP to rolling down compression sleeves and choosing throw away clothes and finding a “rhythm” by mile 10, my love for the sport was reignited. That, and we also foam rolled/stretched together. Team work makes the dream work.
So obviously, returning home was hard. There’s a lot going on in my non-running life, and you always and inevitably feel super-down after running a marathon. To cure that “pain,” my friend Emily so kindly is giving me her Brooklyn Half bib, so I can at least have something to look forward to and a reason to play at the track next week after I rest up. And to keep myself distracted from real life realities, I’ve been diving head first into:
A) Our new office. Greatist is growing (17 people WHAT) and we have a new office to show for it. It’s about 8,000 times bigger than our old office, and it’s beautiful and fun and I’m so excited. I sat in a meeting room for some calls with a view of the Empire State Building and there was a desk and a swivel chair and… I can’t even begin. This almost makes me feel like a real person. But in all seriousness – big things are happening at HQ and I’m so excited for the next few months. We acquired a tech company and now have four awesome developers on board to help build out the tech side to our amazing editorial team. Stay tuned.
B) My cat. I have an announcement: Nora is a Norman. AKA, I’m an idiot and need to go back to sexual health class 101. So I’ve re-named him Pistachio (‘Stache for short), though I’m pretty sure I’m not keeping him. The plan all along was to only foster the kitten, and while I’ll always love animals, the 5am wake up calls, the litter being spilled everywhere nightly, and my sky rocketing stress levels when all I have to do is go out and buy more cat food means it’s in my best interest to give ‘Stache to a family who can love him more that me. (He has an excellent taste in beer, so lemme know if you want him.)
C) Having a social life. I’m excited to come out of my hibernation and spend more time with friends, the great outdoors, and tequila. I’m even pumped to go on long walks to explore new parts of the city, and simply do fun things with fun people. I hit this off with tacos and beer with an old friend downtown. There’s really nothing better than guacamole.
Let’s talk college. You’re nearing the end of spring semester and are insanely busy studying for finals, writing essays, and pulling all-nighters. You just can’t wait for that moment when things settle down — when classes are over, tests are completed, and papers are handed in. But when you finally get there – summer vacation – it’s almost anti-climatic.
Compare this to training. 112 days ago I started training for a marathon. And now that the race is four days away (holyshit) and those 16 weeks are pretty much behind me, I almost feel like it didn’t happen. During 50+ mile weeks and 20+ mile long runs, I’d dream about tapering, of hydrating with beers on a Friday, and sleeping in on a Saturday. And now that I’m here, I’m in disbelief that since January I’ve been running and running and running. And now I’m just haaanging out. Resting. Waiting.
So as I spend time hangin’ and reflecting, I’ve realized a few things. To be honest, I’m not sure training for a marathon made me fall in love with running even more. I think what I loved most about training was the challenge, the improvements I saw, the camaraderie I felt, and the community I was with. (Thankfully, uh, those are a lot of awesome things!) Yet, I’m just not cut out for sticking-to-the-plan. I’m the opposite of a Type A person, and following a strict schedule forced me to almost become someone I’m not comfortable being.
I don’t know how to be insanely organized with my fitness regime, and these last 16 weeks felt a bit/very unnatural. I definitely ran when I should have been resting, definitely stopped short when I felt good. I didn’t give myself the flexibility to go by feel — I took training to be a science, and these 16 weeks an experiment of “how fast can Laura run a marathon if she actually trains.” I started to believe my training plan knew me better than I did. And it’s a piece of paper duct taped to my wall.
But either way, the training is pretty much over. And when push comes to shove (that’s such a weird phrase) I obviously don’t regret it. If nothing else, 16 weeks of training will make a person ITCH to get to the starting line. And I can safely say I’ve never been more excited to race. Tapering has been so good to me – I feel good. Rested. Ready. Pumped to crush Eugene.
And then get my life back. And run lots of 10Ks (:
This week of tapering went well – nothing exciting to note, aside from the fact that my mileage went way on down to 25 miles. I did lots of yoga, ran a bit, and did a little strength. On Saturday I went on my last ‘long’ run of 10 miles: I ran the first 7 up to the start of the Compatriots 5K, which was raising money for Boston. It was great meeting and making friends, and closing off my last double-digit run for the cause.
Greatist just celebrated our 2nd birthday. (Craaaazy town.) I cant believe how far we’ve come in such little time, and I’m even more lucky to have been along for most of the ride. Here’s a fun infographic we created that illustrates our growth, and an honest post by Derek on what he has learned as a young, startup founder. (Photo by him too, thaaanks!)
Believe I Am has a cool new initiative underway, Superwoman, that celebrates the power and strength of women. Write about a woman who inspires you, and get the chance to win fun things!
If you’re in NYC, come out tomorrow night (4/22) for a #BostonStrongNYC event. Run or walk however many miles you want — meet at 6:30 at Tavern on the Green. I’ll be there and am excited to be with my running fam.
Oiselle’s #FastFriday question this week was “What do you love about your run family?” All the answers were so wonderful I suggested they put em all together in storify. And they did!
— Laura Schwecherl (@lschwech) April 19, 2013
Ah. I’m love with this post: 21 roads to drive on before you die. I would love to trek on 11, 12, 14, 15, and 17. (Okay, and all the others…).
Every now and then I come across a blog post or essay that really sticks with me. This one, This Connected Life, is on digital connectiveness, journalism, and its impact on communities and the individual. I’ve realized that I’m fascinated by how the incredible explosion of technology affects the way we communicate, interact, enjoy, and view our selves. And my own beliefs and ideas seem pretty parallel with Katherine’s.
And cause you can’t get enough pics of Nora…..here she is playing hide-and-seek. I always win.
My sister-in-law gave me a daily calendar of all my instagram photos for Christmas. On Monday, it was a picture of one of my favorite places in New York City: the McCarren Park track. I remember taking it while I was injured last fall, and was missing running so much I went to the track to sit and watch the runners do their thing. And then I took the photo:
There’s something about simply being around the running community that’s infectious. Never have I met such a supportive, kind, and fun-loving group of people. I’ve made so many wonderful friendships — people who’ve not only run miles and drank beer with me, but pushed me to become stronger and more resilient, on and off the roads.
And they’re not just my running buds… they’re family. And the amount of posts I’ve read about Boston reminds me how writing and blogging is such a special way to not only offload emotions, but engage and support one another. And for every personal post I’ve read, the sadness and frustration tends to stem from this: “someone attacked my family.”
But just when the tragedy on Monday meant to ruin the running community, it only created an even stronger bond. Because you can’t break the running family. We’re too strong for that.
My heart goes out to all runners, and any & everyone affected by what happened in Boston. All my strength & love,