. . . I have made new friends.

This post is dedicated to my running SOLE mate . . . Nicole Schutte.  Nicole was an intern at ACS and sadly (maybe only for me and Helen!) went back to school on Wednesday.  On her first day, she was a timid college student anxiously awaiting a semester of free labor.  PS  She worked way to hard for free!  The first conversation I remember having with Nicole was about running.  It came up that I was running a half marathon as she too is a runner . . . much more avid and dedicated than I!  She was running a race the same weekend as my half . . . bummer!  I thought I would have a buddy!

Turns out . . . I did . . . and do!  Our conversations frequently ventured to the topic of running and like me, she understands running to be more than cardio exercise and putting one foot in front of the other.  After two ACL replacements, she isa runner even though doctors told her she shouldn't run.  A resident of Maine, she lived in Boston for the summer and frequently took to the streets in the wee hours of morning to squeeze in a daily run. 

Another early memory I have of Nicole Schutte is our initial training when we had to draw our personal story.  Turns out, she is a much better doodler than I!  We had to draw out something other's didn't know about us and she drew an awesome stick figure crossing a finish line.  She told our team, "I am a runner!"  I envied those words a little . . . at that point I didn't qualify myself as such. 

As the months went on Nicole became much more than an intern.  She was the most avid supporter of my running blog and helped me come up with ideas, talk out wacky connections, and understood my overanalytic self.  We compared notes, aches, pains, mileage, and sweat.  She inspired me, encouraged me, and believed in me.  For that, I am forever grateful!  At ACS, I found my SOLE mate and this summer marks the time that we both were inducted to the 13.1 club!  Watch out, our medals are pretty bad ass!

What Nicole probably does not know is that she was really the first new "friend" I met since moving here.  Sounds way third grade, right?!  But really . . . until Nicole and I began chatting about running, college, work, and life I really only interacted with family and Cooper.  This is not to say or suggest that those people aren't wonderful and I don't thoroughly enjoy the time I spend with them, but it was nice to feel like I was finally settling in here in Mass and able to connect with and meet new people!

I am eternally grateful that I had such a rock star intern, and now have an amazing friend!  While I am beyond bummed that Nicole is back in South Carolina for school, I am excited for a new vacation spot and an upcoming private tour of Maine!  On her last day, Nicole gave me a book titled, "To Be a Runner".  I am in love so far . . . here is why . . .

Martin Dugard says these things about running (mind you I am on page 3 of this book . . . that's right . . . I have only read the prologue!!!)

To be a runner is to learn continual life lessons . . . The very act of surpassing
personal limits in training and racing will bend the mind and body toward
a higher purpose . . . settling for mediocrity - settling for good enough - becomes
less and less of an option.  And with so many people in the world all too happy
to bask in mediocrity - settling instead of pushing - those who learn to be the
best version of themselves know the secret to a full life (Dugard, 2011, p. xv).

So Miss Nicole, thank you for embarking on my running journey with me.  More importantly, thanks for being a dear friend, supporter, and encourager.  Funny that the journey of running is really the journey of life!  I am so glad to have found a SOLE mate in you!  BECAUSE I RUN, I have made new friends and I am so glad that you are one of them!  Is it October 2nd yet?!  <3

. . . I embrace hidden messages.

Hidden message #1:  MY PLAYLIST 

One of my new favorite things to do is have friends and family pick my playlist before a race.  It's a good reminder that while my feet run the course, I am not alone.  Yesterday's play list worked out quite well!  See for yourself . . .

Track 1: Faster - Matt Nathanson (Funny that I started out to this song, as it came from my dear friend Aly.  She was the first person in grad school who I told about my dad and I later learned that her dad also died from cancer.  It was so fitting to begin my 13.1 miles with her in my head and on my heart.  I know there are two proud papas smiling down from heaven!)

Track 4-ish: New Shoes - Paolo Nutini (Sent to me from Uncle Bobby . . . like me, she loves the "Soundtracks of Life".  This song began (literally!!!) as I ran right into a HUGE puddle after spending so much time trying to dodge them.  It was pouring yesterday and I was trying to salvage my shoes as long as possible.  No luck there!)

5K mark-ish: Reach - S Club 7 (My new and dear friend Helen (my carpool buddy!!) sent this song and it was first time I snapped out of zone and actually heard something . . . I don't think she knows the significance of this stanza but it was much needed and so appreciated)

Follow your hearts desire
Reach for the stars
And when that rainbow's shining over you
That's when your dreams will all come true

Finishing track: I'll Meet You There - Owl City (The closing stanza is how I ended and it could not be more perfect . . .  a nice reminder that while I would not give my dad a high five at the finish, he was still there beaming!)

                                                                You could be anywhere                                                                   I'll meet you there                                                               You could be anywhere                                         Open your eyes and see everything you can be                                                                    I'll meet you there  Hidden message #2: SILENCE Mile 10ish:  I had put my dad's band's CD on my playlist, but since I played it on random there was no telling when it would be on.  I was getting frustrated because I felt like I would hear his voice when I needed it.  I was yelling at him in my head . . . screaming in fact.  "Dad, where the hell are you?!  I am almost done and I have felt/seen very little of you!!!"  My Ipod stopped.  Not at the end of a song.  Not a skip in the track.  It just stopped for a good five seconds and then carried on again.  Sometimes silence says everything.  My sister's favorite quote of my dad's . . . "The beauty of the unspoken thought."  Hidden message #3: JENNIE I started the race talking to a girl a little older than me who lost her mom to squamous cell carcinoma on June 8, 2011.  She too was a DetermiNation runner and the top fundraiser of our team raising over $5000.00!!!  Jennie was the first person I have ever talked to that knows what tongue cancer is, let alone known someone who has had it.  While I wish the fate of our parents was different, it was an honor and privilege meeting her.  Hidden message #4: VANISHING PAINThroughout my training program, I have had some knee issues.  Hills and stairs have caused some intense pain and around mile 9 this pain came on full force.  I thought about each ribbon on my shirt, each chemo drip that each ribbon represented, every radiation treatment, every hair lost, every tear shed, every broken heart, every *%^@!& cancer cell that took the lives of so many and suddenly, while cruising through a water station, my knee pain vanished and has not reappeared since.  What an army of angels I had with me!  Hidden message #5: MY JERSEYMy dad's picture.  Initially, I screenprinted this as a reminder that my dad was rooting me on, cheering for me.  As I approached the Seekonk River and was choked up by its beauty, I realized that my dad was also cheering on every person behind me.  This added to my sense of pride.  He knew, as he often did, that I had done what I needed to to prepare.  He was not worried about me, but instead focused his attention on the other people around me that may have needed a little push.  There is proof folks, his spirit lives on!

   Hidden message #6: THE NOT-SO-HIDDEN MESSAGE

 After sitting in HORRIBLE traffic today, my carpool buddy (HELEN!) and I decided to take our usual bad traffic detour.  For some reason, my GPS took us through Westwood, rather than Dedham Center.  I now know why.  A double rainbow over Westwood High School.  We drove toward this rainbow for a good 20 minutes.  Helen commented several times that she had never seen a rainbow so big and so bright.  My sister, my cousin, Cooper, my grandma, and many others admired this very rainbow.  A perfect conclusion to a wonderful weekend.  Icing on the cake.  Fire in my heart.  A smile across my face.  My dad is proud.  

. . . I am a runner and I am proud.



Well, I officially completed a half marathon.  As I have savored this accomplishment for most of today, I have come to realize that I have achieved something far greater than 13.1 miles.  As many of you know, my desire and drive to run yesterday was inspired by my dad.  He was the one person who believed I could do anything in the world . . . besides sing!  When I had completely given up, it was his voice on the phone, in the back of my head, screaming up the stairs that told me that I could accomplish anything I set my mind on.

Achieving anything, large or small, made my dad so proud.  Nothing made him happier than watching his three kids succeed.  Whether it was getting a good grade on a test, becoming friends with a new kid in town, getting a job, going to college, holding the door for someone, my dad swelled with pride when he watched his kids do good things.  Not only did he feel this way, he communicated these feelings each and every day.  I heard how proud my dad was of my literally five times a day.  Seems excessive, but it was always so genuine.  I lived for those words . . . "Elise, I am proud to be your dad."  Nothing made me happier and nothing made me push harder, faster, stronger.

Since my dad has died, pride is one feeling I had not yet felt.  For example, when I finished grad school I didn't know how to be proud of what I accomplished.  It just felt like finishing grad school was a reminder of who I didn't have in the audience, who would never read my thesis, who would be absent in family pictures.  I was mad.  There was a part of me that just didn't want to celebrate at all because ignoring it made it seem like I didn't have to face that my dad would not be present.

There have been little things along the way that I have struggled to feel proud of . . . moving across the country, starting a new job, taking risks on things that are important, standing up for what I believe in, asking for help when I need it.  Part of me wants to feel proud, but to even try reminds me how big my dad shaped hole is.  I am blessed to be surrounded by dozens of people who challenge, support, and love me.  These very people tell me they are proud quite often, but it just doesn't settle the same way.

Things changed yesterday.  As I ran along the streets of Providence, RI there was only one word to describe how I felt . . . proud.  For awhile, I could not even name the feeling that enveloped me.  At one point, I kept telling myself that it felt as though a beast was unleashed from within.  I did not know what came over me.  I just zoned out and ran.  I weaved in and out of people, my mind was free and clear, I savored every rain drop that landed on me (and there were MANY!), I just let loose.  I let go.  I just lived.  I savored.  I enjoyed.  I just was.

At one point (I can picture it exactly, but can't tell you where I was) it hit me.  I was so proud.  Upon this realization, I did not know what to do, so I just cried . . . some things will never change about me!  I was proud of the 200+ miles I ran training.  I was proud that I followed through on such a large commitment.  I was proud that my body was able and ready to take on such a feat.  I was proud that I didn't let the rain, the delayed start, the massive amounts of people, or any other obstacle stand in the way of what I set out to do.

As I concluded mile 11 and embarked on mile 12, I was overcome with emotion.  I saw the mile marker and got incredibly emotional.  It was then that I realized I was really going to finish the race.  I was ten minutes away from being a "half marathoner".  I was proud even though my dad's voice wasn't in my hear, his arms weren't hugging me, and his smile was not in a crowd of people reassuring me that I did well.  I was proud because I knew I earned my own pride, and more importantly, his.  I was proud because I decided to do something, I did it, and I did it well.  I was proud because I was finally able to feel my dad's pride within.  I was proud because he has been proud all along.

As I neared the finish, I was also proud because I am a runner.  I truly am.  Prior to yesterday's race, people often asked, "Oh, you're a runner?"  My response was always, "No, I just run."  I don't know why I could never fully embrace this identity.  I know runners.  They run rain or shine.  They are outfitted with matching shorts and shirts.  Their sneakers are always clean.  They apparently crave a "runner's high".  They get cranky when they can't "get a run in".  Their calves nicely toned.  Me . . . I just run.

Not anymore folks!  I am a runner.  And not because I have an extensive wardrobe of Reebok gear, run in the rain, or have new shoes.  I am a runner BECAUSE I RUN.  I am a runner because I enjoy the open road, the challenge of going faster, longer.  I am a runner because I have proved myself wrong.  Because I am a runner, I am proud.  I am proud of my first half marathon.  I am proud to be connected to and loved by so many amazing people.  I am proud that the runner in me raised nearly $2500.00 for an organization I love and believe in.  I am proud that each mile I ran was one step closer toward an end of cancer.  I am proud that I chose to run and be empowered by a period of my life that is still hard, overwhelming, and quite honestly sucks.  BECAUSE I RUN, I can transform tragedy to triumph.  BECAUSE I RUN, I have ignited the spark I have missed most from my dad . . . pride.  BECAUSE I RUN, I am one stinkin proud runner.

. . . my dad is with me.

Here is the jersey . . . all ready to be ribboned and run in!

. . . I have control.

I had the privilege of attending a luncheon today with the other DetermiNation team members for the Providence Rock N' Roll.  One of my team members is a cancer survivor himself . . . a year out of treatment in fact.  Like me dad, he too had head and neck cancer.  When training for a marathon he noticed a lump in his neck after recovering from a cold.  He went to his doctor who at first assumed lymphoma.  The next day he was diagnosed with Stage 4 aggressive cancer.  After intense treatment, including both radiation and chemotherapy, a feeding tube, and surgery he spoke in front of me today cancer free.

When undergoing treatment, he made the commitment to run three marathons within his first year of being cancer free.  He did that, and will be running a half in addition tomorrow.  As he told his story, he said that running was the only thing felt he had control over after being diagnosed with cancer.  While he couldn't begin logging miles immediately after treatment, he could commit to walk a block, and then two, and then run a block.  He said that in the midst of chaos, he felt he still had something that no one else could control. 

A big light bulb went off for me in this luncheon.  I was a mix of emotions as I still get angry when I encounter cancer survivors, especially those who had similar diagnoses as my dad.  I am admittedly selfish for these thoughts and while I would NEVER wish cancer upon anyone in the entire world, my first question when I meet someone like this gentleman is, "Why couldn't my dad have the same fate?  Why isn't he here to run with me tomorrow?  Why can't I be running in celebration, rather than memory and honor?"  You would think that after two years such thoughts would subside . . . for me they have not.

Anyway, back the light bulb . . . control.  I have found it funny that it has only been in the last few months that I have committed to running and stuck with it.  Now I know why.  In the last two years, I have been anything but in control of so many aspects of my life.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer, I went to grad school where I often felt at the mercy of others thoughts and ideas, my dad passed away, I moved across the country, I started a new job, etc.  A lot of change!  And often I feel as though I am in the middle of a tornado desperately seeking out something to hold onto.  In the end, I have to accept that a huge part of me thought I could control my dad's fate.  Two years later I am still trying to accept that I couldn't then, I can't now, and my lack to do so does not mean I didn't fight like hell and he didn't give it all he had.  I guess it's just hard to accept that you can fight that hard, hope that much, be that faithful, and still lose.

In the midst of such chaos and change, running is an anchor.  It provides time in my day that is only mine.  No matter how overwhelmed I feel, stressed out I am, or how much I want to give up, the streets I run remain consistent, predictable, and constant.  When I set out on a run, no one else gets to make requests, demands, suggestions, etc.  It's all mine.  I choose when to run, where to run, and how far to run.  I choose to further my mileage.  I choose to better my time.  It's all mine.  With my running shoes on my feet, it doesn't matter that my student loans are due, or that my job is not yet permanent, or that I miss home, or that I ate a cupcake for lunch, or that my sister and I are struggling through a disagreement.  Instead, it's a time for me to soak up the sun, lengthen my stride, and focus only on whether to do three miles or five, run easy or do intervals. 

During my lunch today it hit me . . . I don't necessarily LOVE running.  Instead, I love forgetting, escaping, and finding a place that it is all my own.  I can find that nowhere other than in my running shoes.  If you can believe it, it beats a bubble bath - not by much - I think it's only because my runs are longer than it takes for hot water to get cold! 

BECAUSE I RUN, I have control.  I have control over my choices, my decisions, and my perspective.  Running helps me remember the many things I don't have control over, but can enjoy anyway . . . the sun in sky, the rain in the clouds, the humidity in the air.  Running reengages my mind to savor the things that make me happy , and ignore the things that don't.  Running reminds me that bills will always be there, life will always be tough, challenges ebb and flow, and happiness is always up to you.  BECAUSE I RUN, I control my happiness and what it takes to achieve it, live it, and enjoy it.  When I run, I control putting one foot in front of the other, and often, that is enough to make me realize that everything will be okay.

There are clubs you can’t belong to, neighborhoods you won’t live in, schools you can’t get into, but the roads are always open. – JUST DO IT

. . . I am strong.

"Running is a big question mark that's there each and every day. It asks you, 'Are you going to be a wimp or are you going to be strong today?'"
- Peter Maher, Canadian marathon runner



. . . I am more connected and deeply rooted.

As noted in my previous post, this week has brought several breakthroughs both in my training and my life.  With each day of training checked off the list I feel like I am more in tune with my body, my emotions, my thoughts, my desires, my dreams, and myself than ever before. 

I distinctly remember lying in my bed talking to a girlfriend on the phone in February 2007 when I suggested that maybe, just maybe we try to run a half marathon.  The Horsetooth Half in Fort Collins was that April and it seemed like a really good idea!  Until I started "training"...which I may have done for twenty minutes between then and when April came and went.

Looking back now, I find that I give up on myself so easily.  One bad run, I throw in the towel.  A B on a report card, I question my intelligence.  A chocolate bar that tastes delicious, I give up on eating healthy.  I am not quite sure where or why I learned to be so hard on myself, but over the last week I am beginning to understand the tone of my mom's chuckles when I call her to tell her my life is crumbling yet again.  I can hear her sigh as I sobbed to my dad when I got a B in AP Government.  And I now truly understand she has never lacked empathy when she has said to get the frick over it when a perceived catastrophe threatens my well being.  She has always seen me for who I am, rather than who I see myself to be and I understand now that she tried to help me reconnect with my center as I felt like I was spiraling out of control.  She never fed into my frenzy.  My dad didn't either, but he met me at my level.  He always made me feel sane, and sometimes justified, even though I was probably anything but. 

Since my dad died two years ago, I have struggled with claiming and defining my center because for 22 years of my life I was blessed to have someone tell me how proud they were, how amazing I was, and how many great things were awaiting me each and everyday.  Without that constant affirmation over the last two years, I was beginning to question how meaningful my life really was, if I was capable of doing such great things, and I was constantly yearning and searching for someone to tell me they were proud of me.  Essentially, I was looking in the mirror and saying, "What's the big deal about Elise Clement?  What makes her unique?"  For a long time, these questions remained unanswered as my dad's voice was not there to fill in the blanks.

The funny thing now is that other people (family, friends, stranger) have been taking stabs at these questions and now I am learning that their answers pale in comparison and not the same as when my dad would say the very same thing.  When my dad said he was proud, I believed him, and in turn, I too was proud.  No one in my life has that power.  It doesn't mean I don't want to make others proud, and don't value the times when I impress, inspire, or make a difference in the lives of others.  Instead, there is just something (well many actually!) about my dad and the way he saw me that made me feel invincible.  To make my dad proud was the conquer the world.

Over the last two years, I have had to cope and deal with a void that seems to grow with each passing hour, day, month, year.  I have had to learn how to make myself proud without the benefit of having my dad, or anyone else for that matter, affirm these feelings by phone, in person, or via email.  I have simply had to just know.  And it sucks.  And is very hard.  As a result, I have become much more connected with myself, what's important to me, and what I hope to accomplish in the future.  In order to get there, I had to shed some baggage and approach myself as a vulnerable, scared, and nervous individual.  Sounds weird, right?!  Well, turns out I am my own worst enemy, my most cynical critic, and I give up on my long before anyone else does.  

Since shedding my old motto, digging deeper into my heart, and having some honest conversations, I have turned over a new leaf this week.  I now remember where my roots are, in addition to the nutrients they need to grow and flourish (healthy playlist, anyone?!). 

My head was in an entirely new place today as I set out to run my longest run I have ever attempted.  In preparation, I got the praise, affirmation, and reassurance I needed . . . through song.

Exhibit A (heard when pulling up to Lakeshore Drive - my dad's old house - to start my run:

"Think good thoughts, think good thoughts,

Imagine what the world would be if we we we we would just think good thoughts,

Stop the bad from feeding.

I won't let my negativity turn me into my enemy,

Promise to myself that I won't let it get the best of me,

That's how I want to be."

Such an amazing message that speaks to the power of positivity and mind set.  Much of what I have struggle with recently is in my head.  And when negativity's flood gates open in my head, I am Elise's Most Wanted.

Exhibit B (song number 2 that came on while running down the street my dad grew up on): 

"I am the red in the rose, the flowers on the blankets on your bedroom floor.
And I am the gray in the ghost that hides with your clothes behind your closet door...

You can go anywhere you wish cause I'll be there, wherever you are." 

Cue the tears please!  Ever see a girl running on the side of the road crying?!  Wave because it's probably me.  This verse really struck me today.  I drove to Westwood to be closer to my dad.  To run along the streets he walked millions of times.  To smell the flowers that he smelled.  To see tree growth that he witnessed decades ago.  To notice random landmarks that he may have used to find his way home.  All that effort for the reminder that he is where I am.  BECAUSE I RUN, I heard this message loud and clear today.  BECAUSE I RUN I am more connected with myself and my roots, and as a result am more open to the world around me.  How many messages/signs do we miss simply because we are not connected or aware?  

I made myself really proud today . . . minus the getting lost and adding mileage to my run!  I woke up early, beat the heat, and followed through with my training by running farther than I have in my whole life.  I patted myself on the back because I was able to do what I did today only because I have logged over 200 miles in the last three months.  I have pushed my body, changed my diet, and made the commitment to live a healthy life.  

While my dad was not standing at my car in his old front yard, I could still feel and see his beaming smile.  As I rounded Clapboard Tree St to Pond and saw the Lakeshore Drive sign I immediately started crying and my first thought was, "I am home!".  Not sure why I thought that but I know that is what my dad thought when he saw that green and white sign.  I know he celebrated a lot of accomplishments and overcame many setbacks on that same black asphalt.  While he didn't give my a high five, kiss my forehead, or say "Nice work, Sweetie" through a beaming smile, I know he was there.  I know this BECAUSE I RUN and am connected to myself and my roots in entirely new ways.  I think good thoughts and know that wherever I am, my dad is also.

. . . I have abandoned my old motto.

"It's better to be pleasantly surprised than disappointed."

See ya later good ole' saying!  A lot of things have come full circle for me this week . . . most of which don't involve running, but were revealed as I struggled with my training program, disappointing myself this week, and feeling the nerves come on as I realize my first half marathon is a mere nine days away.

Where to begin?

I decided to start training for a half marathon my first year of grad school.  That clearly went well, huh?!?!?!Two and half years later, when I moved to Mass, I wanted to take up a hobby/sport to basically find something I was good at.  Since finishing school, I realized that a good deal of my pride in myself and what I was capable of resided in the academic world.  With that chapter complete I was feeling pretty empty...so I decided to run...seemed simple enough, right?

In May I began training...for real.  I created a seperate training calendar that detailed every run from May 9-August 7.  A little OCD, right?  Maybe...but it helped me plan around family coming, work events, and life happening.  If I was going to commit, I wanted to commit fully.  Plus, I know myself and without such OCD I know I would look at a calendar today and say, "&^$% I have a half marathon in nine days . . . I should try running!"  OCD + procrastination can be an interesting combination!

As the journey continued, I tracked every mile and every minute I ran.  I compared distances, times, and honestly I impressed myself.  I was not only training for a half marathon, but my skill was improving!  I was running faster and longer than I ever thought possible...I was proving myself wrong!  I followed my training plan religiously, to a tee, to perfection . . . until Father's Day.  I skipped a run (6-7 miler) because I was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted.  That's when I started playing games with myself.

One skipped run became a few, became switching runs around, became kinda creating my own plan.  To be fair, I have run three times a week at least . . . but there are times when I cut my miles or my intervals, or just do my own thing.  While this probably seems mundane and seemingly harmless to every other human being on the planet, I took this very seriously . . . I am learning that I took it TOO seriously. 

Insert my OLD motto:  "It's better to be pleasantly surpised than disappointed."

Once I started beating myself up about missing A run, I started missing more.  When I took the time to say "What are you thinking, you weirdo?!?!!?"  I realized that I felt I was putting myself in jeopardy of not making my goal time that I have spent months trying to attain.  Rather than sucking it up and getting back on program, I started sabotaging myself.  By skipping runs, miles, and time I created a reason/excuse/cause should I not complete my half marathon in the time I would like.  Apparently, I would rather turn meeting my goal into surprising myself by my lack of training, rather than potentially disappointing myself by staying faithful to my committment and still falling short.  So really this motto should be "Disappoint yourself first, so that in the end you can surprise yourself by potentially not being as disappointed as you thought you might be."

I am learning that my old standby saying can be rather toxic.  Running is not the only area of my life where I have seen the above process unfold.  As I look back, there are so many times/reasons/events where I created hurdles for myself to prevent accepting I might not cross the finish line in the time/way that I would like.  Instead, I pat myself on the back for completing a hurdle that didn't even need to exist if I just kept my eye on the finish.  In the end, I need to accept that failure is not the opposite of perfection.  Rather, to not be perfect is to be human and that is perfectly okay!

So, the good ole' motto is out the door.  And in its place I inserted this as it relates to running:

"It's very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit." - George Sheehan

Accepting defeat is a trait I want to get better at.  Not being defeated, but accepting that challenging myself and following through is something to be proud of.  I need to seperate the process from the product.  Regardless of how my half marathon goes next week I have earned being proud of the miles I have logged, the time I have spent running, and my commitment to challenge myself.  My success/pride associated with the marathon itself can be seperate.  To miss my goal time next week will be a bummer but I can still celebrate crossing a finish line and preparing my body to be able to even start such a race.  I never in a million years thought I would register a half marathon . . . EVER!  Now, the start line is nine days away.  I am abandoning getting caught up in the details and will instead savor the journey.

"Today (well, in nine days!) I will do what others won’t, So tomorrow I can do what others can’t". - Unknown

BECAUSE I RUN I have changed my motto to one that is both positive and productive.  What seems mundane can be subconciously toxic.  BECAUSE I RUN I know that it is important to take pride in myself, my ability, and what I am capable of.  And if I ever doubt myself, I will take a stab at trying a new motto.

. . . I know more about science!

So, not to complain, but it's been stinkin' hot here in New England this past week.  Like wicked hottttt!  I am talking 100 plus degrees and so humid I felt like I wore wet pants all week.

Since moving here, I have always said I would MUCH rather run at high altitudes than in humidity because height seems to be less of a challenge than damp air.  There is a reason for that as I learned today . . . in addition to some other useful info for those who care about running, heat, and sweat.

Before I reveal this new knowledge, we first need to review some facts about our bodies:

*Our bodies have their own cooling systems that do not require fans or AC.  Instead, the body cools itself by moving blood (at least the water part!) to the sweat glands.  Our glands then create sweat drops (or BO) which carries hear to the surface of our skin (perspiration).  Basically, beads of sweat are "containers of heat" ("Runner's World, 2011).

This process occurs in all of us, regardless of whether or not you run, however, for runners the process is challenged, and sometimes hindered when people run in extreme heat and humidity!


When running in heat, your body gets confused because it wants to engage the aforementioned cooling system, but as you continue running it must supply blood to muscles, tendons, tissue, etc to keep you moving.  As a result, there is a limited blood supply in your body and with less water moving about it is harder to cool yourself down.

The HUMIDITY factor:

When you add humidity to the picture, it is even harder to cool down because the evaporation of sweat is hindered, which creates yet another hurdle in the cooling process.  This explains why cooler temperatures here on the East Coast feel hotter than those in Colorado . . . because your body temperature may be the same!  Can I have some altitude back please?!?!?!?

Here are some other interesting science facts:

1)  Heat Stroke.  Can occur when an internal body temperature reaches 104 degrees.

GET THIS...An experienced runner racing in 85 degree weather after hydrating for three days, eating salt the night before to retain water, drinking 20 oz of water the night before, followed by 10 oz before bed, sleeping in AC, and drinking 10 oz the morning of the race while eating more salt, and then drinking a slurpee (more on this later) 1 hour prior to the race, followed by wearing a cooling vest for thirty min pre-gun time, will reach an internal body temperature of 103.9 by mile 8 with a heart rate of 188 beats per minute!!!  Mind you, the steps I just laid out for you brought said athlete's body temperature to 99 degrees with five miles left to run!  To my fellow runners, be careful!

2)  Slurpees.  More successful at cooling the body than cold water.  Study, 2010, New Zealand.  Results: icy, sweet drink consumed one hour prior to running results in runners lasting 10 minutes longer without overheating than those who just drank syrup-flavored cold water.  Hmmm...is this why soda can be soooo refreshing on hot day?!

3)  Urine.  A tell tale sign of dehydration.  However, you want SOME color in the pot!  Colorless urine, especially when preparing to run, can cause "hyponatremia" which occurs when sodium levels dip to a dangerously low level.  You don't want the color of Tweety, but you do want the color of straw!

Moral of today's story . . . science can help us be safe and still enjoy running, even when the great outdoors is one giant steam room.  BECAUSE I RUN where it's hot and humid I have a tip for you and it marries water and sweat.  Want to know how to stay hydrated?  Here ya go!

1)  Weigh yourself naked before a run.

2)  While running track how many ounces of fluid you drink.

3)  Weigh yourself naked when your run is finished.

4)  Subtract postrun weight from prerun and convert to ounces by multiplying by 16.

5)  Add that number to the amount you drank on your run and divide the loss by four to determine how many oz you must consume every 15 min to stay hydrated.

PS  I stole this handy fact right from Runner's World . . . page 65 . . . :)

BECAUSE I RUN, I crosstrain and when crosstraining I read, and today while reading Runner's World I learned some science.  And now, BECAUSE I RUN and read I hope I have told you a few things you didn't know already.  BO, while stinky, is important and our bodies have been cooling themselves long before Central Air!  

Run safe, but don't forget to enjoy the sun!


PS Special shout out to Nicole Schutte as she runs her first HALF MARATHON tomorrow!  Can't wait to join the club!  May your stride by long, the breeze be in your favor, and your tears remind you that are a ROCKSTAR!

. . . I am in better touch with my inner 8th grader.

Lots of chuckles on today's run.  Let's just cut to the chase . . .

I Pod on shuffle produced a playlist including the following . . . 

1.  Willa Ford - I Wanna be Bad
2.  LFO - If I Can't Have You
3.  Sisqo - Thong Song
4.  98 Degrees - Dizzy
5.  Sir Mix A Lot - Baby Got Back
6.  A country song whose name I have blacked out because it takes me back to the cafeteria floor where 8th grade girls parted like the Red Sea anxiously awaiting a  pimply faced, BO scented boy to pull them off the wall.


Parker Vista West eighth grade formal anyone?!  Wow . . . is it weird I also ran almost 8 miles today?  BECAUSE I RUN, I am least entertained by my eighth grade, thirteen year old self. 

. . . I appreciate a good play list.

One thing I have come to accept about myself is my need for some pump up music while running.  I am an awful I tunes play list creator and often resort to shuffling all songs.  This can be problematic as my I pod includes artists like the Rolling Stones, Matt Nathanson, Rhianna, MJ, Jason Aldean, Don Henley, Taio Cruz, Spice Girls, etc.  Lots of variety!  

Since taking up running, I have learned that variety can be a blessing and curse.  There is a time and place for Enya . . . stretching, meditation, yoga.  Not really my style on mile three of a 10K.  Just not the pump and motivation I need.  Now Rhianna on the other hand gets me going, adds spring to my step, and makes 5, 6, 7 miles seem totally doable.  However, when it comes to needing time to think, journal, and clear my head Rhianna ain't my girl.  It's not the right energy.

Energy.  This is easily applied to life and the play list, or people and environments, we choose to listen to/interact with/surround ourselves with.  Since moving across the country, starting a new job, and trying to figure out my place in the world, I am left to ponder energy quite often.  Sometimes I feel I am bursting with it, other times completely sucked dry.  This is often a result of the people I surround myself with.  We all have the friends that know how to have a good time, but are then ill equipped to deal with emotion, chaos, and tragedy.  Then there are people who are great at giving advice, telling you what they think, but not always great at just enjoying your company. 

Since moving, I have learned a lot about friends, relationships, and candor.  Distance has changed many of my friendships, yet other remain completely intact.  Over the last few years, life circumstances have taught me about what others are capable of dealing with, what makes people uncomfortable, and how easy it is for some people to step up to the plate when they see someone they care about in need.   

BECAUSE I RUN, I recognize that my I pod play list runs much deeper than my ear canals.  Life has a playlist and just like one sorts their I tunes library, so too we sort our play list for life.  Sometimes this means accepting that relationships have run their course, and other times it means you must admit where you have fallen short.  Ultimately, it requires one to look within themselves and admit where boundaries must be drawn.  Where are your limits?  What are you willing to tolerate?  When is enough enough?  How do you show your appreciation for those you love?  Is your life play list motivating, or dragging you down?  Which songs/people need to moved/changed/reconsidered? 

Life, challenges, and goals are all about energy.  And what energizes one part of your life will not necessarily energize another.  Where does Rhianna fit?  How about that fun friend versus the one that is real and a constant shoulder to lean on?  BECAUSE I RUN, I have learned that it is okay to draw boundaries to protect what is important.  I understand that context is everything and if you won't advocate for yourself and what you need, no one will.  BECAUSE I RUN, I appreciate a good play list and in most circumstances, that play list needs to get me pumped up so I can be the best me!

. . . I bake!

Yep, that's right.  My weekend is full of recipes, powdered sugar, flour, and treats.  I am hosting my first bake sale on Monday at work to continue to raise money for my half marathon.  I am really excited about this fundraiser because it joins two of my passions . . . running and baking.

Secretly, I want to own a bakery when I "grow up".  I LOVE baking.  There is nothing like flour covered pants, chocolate smudges on the oven, and smell of something sweet lingering in the air.  I like trying new things, taking a spin on old favorites, and sticking to the classics.  So, I figured that one way to move closer to my fundraiser goal would be through people's stomachs!  After surveying people I work with I came up with a menu of lemon bars, chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes, muffins, and brownies.  

This is why I love baking.  There is something for everyone!  Chocolate lovers unite, cake lovers dive in, and there are always options for those who don't love the overly sweet.  Furthermore, baking can function as the proverbial water cooler in the way that it brings people together.  Everyone has a favorite dessert, everyone has a family member that brings a token dessert to Christmas or Easter, and everyone has a story of the dessert that went way wrong.

Baking/baked goods, and the stories surrounding them, bring people together and help us find the common thread that runs through us all.  While we might not all be excellent bakers, we are at least good pie cutters, cupcake eaters, and icing spreaders.  And let's face it, without eaters, bakers would be out of business.  In the end, through baking, people come together and learn things about others they may not have known otherwise.  Baking, like running, often starts with one person and then has the power to unite an army.  My army fights to end cancer.  If I bring that end through brownies and lemon bars, all the "sweeter"!  BECAUSE I RUN, I bake, because maybe, just maybe, we can end cancer one cupcake at a time!

 Luscious Lemon Bars Baking Away!

 Fudgy Brownies getting ready for the oven!

. . . I know more than necessary about trash and that some dog owners lack etiquette.

Shortly into my run this morning I knew what my post would be about today . . . garbage, trash and recycling.  From what I can tell, Canton has an every other week recycle policy and garbage is collected on Thursdays.  Knowing this should have made me reconsider waiting to run this morning as the sun had already started baking the insides of garbage cans by 8 am.  This means that five miles of air was tainted with the lovely scent of rancid meat, sour milk, and rotten veggies.  Yum, right?!

 While the scents of Canton's streets were slightly unpleasant this morning, it got me thinking about the trash that often infiltrates our lives.  The extent of this infiltration is influenced by our choices.  Do we choose to focus on the trash, or on the good meals, conversation, and company that was shared before the trash was created?  While running, I chose to still enjoy the sunshine, cool breeze, and fresh air rather than the horrible stench that consumed the town and at times was enough to make me gag.  Weird connection I know, but something I found worthy of pondering.

This pondering and philosophical thought was abruptly interrupted when I ran past the library.  Free of neighborhood streets, smelly garbage cans, and stinky air, I lengthened my stride, straightened my posture, and picked up the pace only to encounter the pink shirted lady.  Said woman was walking an incredibly large chocolate lab who was in the process of taking a huge crap on the library lawn.  Mind you, it's just after 8am and the library is located in Canton Center.  Time and location equal a long line of stopped traffic with drivers looking about and admiring their surroundings.  And there is Chocolate Fido leaving his own spin on a tootsie rolls . . . or tootsie logs.  OK, no big deal . . . dogs poop on walks.  Go Fido!  What doesn't typically happen (or so I hope!) is people like pink shirt lady who tug Fido back to the sidewalk leaving a pile of poo in the lawn of a public place!  Grocery sack, anyone?!  After smelling what closely resembled shit for the preceding three miles this was just icing on the cake and before I knew it I was giggling.

Fast forward 7-9 years.  6060 Belmont Way.  Early morning, dad making lunch in his bathrobe (important detail for later!), me at the bar half asleep probably eating Cheerios.  Another Fido is on a walk and just he takes care of business in my front yard my dad starts screaming, goes to the laundry room to retrieve a grocery sack, and proceeds to chase Fido and owner up the street reminding them that we don't have dogs because we don't want to clean up poop.  Remember the bathrobe . . . yep, mortifying!

So, moral of today's five miles . . . BECAUSE I RUN I remind myself that while I know more about garbage pick up than necessary and people are often rude and inconsiderate, how that affects your life is up to you.  While part of me wanted to chase down pink shirted lady and call out her rudeness, I instead chose to laugh, and really what better way is there to end a run that with a smile?!

. . . I know that speed isn't everything.

Today's run was not so fun.  The weather was beautiful . . . not too hot, nice breeze, sunshine, a shady route with lots of trees.  Even still, I was a slow poke.  Sometimes runs are just like that.  No matter how hard I train, how much I push myself, sometimes I feel like walking would be faster.  A friend of mine and fellow runner (@NicoleSchutte) shared this with me and I found it very motivating.  There will always be someone faster, someone slower, someone richer, someone poorer.  What matters in life is that you stick with your committments, follow your dreams and passions, and only compare yourself to you.  Here is to a better run on Saturday . . . BECAUSE I RUN I feel accomplished for today, because speed isn't everything.

. . . I contribute to something larger than myself.

Well here it is . . . my very first blog post.  I must say this has been a long time coming, especially since I have taken up running, races, and training.  I have found running to be a metaphor for my life and it is here that I want to share my thoughts for anyone who cares to read! 

As I prepare for my first half marathon I think about my training, my miles, and my thoughts.  While running is something I prefer to do on my own, I love doing it because it can be so much bigger!  BECAUSE I RUN I have the opportunity to raise money, meet new people, and do something that really is not about me at all. 

When I run I feel really close to my dad, especially when I am out in the wee hours of the morning.  The crisp air keeps me cool, I get to watch the sun reflect off Bolivar pond, the smell of cut grass often looms in the air, and I begin to understand why the first hours of the day were always his favorite.  When you stop to savor the day, your environment, and sunshine it really starts you off right.  And honestly, what else is there to do at 5:30am?!?!?!  As weird as it sounds, there are moments in the morning where I know my dad is with me . . . beaming his huge smile and being kind enough to share his favorite part of the day with me.

BECAUSE I RUN, I can connect with my dad in a new way and understand him better.  It's weird to learn something new about someone when they aren't here to tell you or converse with you.  But, the good thing is that it keeps my dad very much alive.  It's BECAUSE I RUN that I can connect on this level.  It's BECAUSE I RUN that I can turn this positive energy into meaningful miles that will hopefully spare another young woman of living a day without her best friend.  My optimism tells me that running for ACS can and will make a difference.  I can provide funding needed to ensure patients have rides to treatment, resources 24/7, unlimited access to cancer related information, cancer resource specialists at hospitals, and a support system that helps lifts spirits when chemo, radiation, and a deteriorating body have the spirit crippled and hopeless.

Since my dad has died I have been relentless about being involved in a cancer cause.  Never did I think I would live, work, and breathe it!  While I love every minute of it, @RyanCooper made the good point that I have never escaped thinking about cancer for a day since my dad's diagnosis.  BECAUSE I RUN, I now have an outlet and I can both contribute to something larger than myself while also taking care of myself. 

The ability to make such contributions is just one thing I have learned and pondered since taking on this runner persona.  I can't wait to share the rest of realizations with you! 

BECAUSE I RUN, it's not just about me.  And that is all the more reason to keep tracking those miles!