To Jam or not to Jam?

For as long as I can remember, I've loved music.

Vinyl albums as a young child and cassette tapes in grade school. Then came along the dual cassette player (and the ability to create a mix tape). CDs in junior high and high school. CD burners and MP3's in college.

I remember bringing my cherry red GE walkman to elementary school. I'd received it as a Christmas gift from my aunt and uncle along with my first Madonna tape. When recess time came, I walked around listening to music instead of hanging out with other kids. It was handy on the bus throughout high school, too.

In college the no-skip Discman was a backpack utility as I walked to and from class. Not to mention a great aide as I labored for hours in the design and photo labs.

 

The digital music player invention changed the way many of us worked out. Being mobile with music was no longer any different than moving around the world without it. Your digital music player could be Velcro'd around your arm and provided an hour or two of music (and unlike it's predecessor, no skipping).

Today, the iPod (or iPhone) has become as much a part of the runners outfit as shorts and shoes. So the question of this post still remains - Do you run with music or without? And it's ok if you say both.

Throughout my training career, I've come and gone in waves with music. There's certain activities where you can't have music (cycling, yoga and swimming), some where you can (lifting, running) and others where it's a gray area (races).

My current habit is to run with music when I'm running alone and run without music when running with someone. I seem to get the best of both worlds this way. My latest playlist keeps me moving during those early morning weekday solo runs. Then I enjoy catching up with a friend or discussing our breakfast plans with the CARA training group.

If I ran with music all the time, I'd probably catch less of each conversation. There would be a lot of jokes and happenings I would have missed over the last eight or so years. Those moments created memories which created friendships.  I may have missed an important safety notice on the lakefront path like "bike back" or "group passing" which could have led to yet another avoidable injury.

 So, though music and I have had a lifetime love affair, I'm going to use it sparingly while running.

When Yoga Changes Your Life

Last summer, Sara and I started attending yoga practice together. Throughout our class and studio progression, we went from some basic yoga poses to using the wall as a prop for inversions.

At first the upside down thing didn't seem like fun, but shortly after holding a handstand for the first time in 20 or so years, I had a new-found desire to invert.

And that's when I started to notice yoga practice was changing the way I looked at everyday life.

Suddenly, the long hallway that leads from the elevator to my office wasn't so lonesome looking. It was a space where dozens of opportunities to practice foreman balance lied.

My boss's office floor was no longer a work space, but rather an arm balance practice space for crow and side crow while he was on vacation. I'd be lying to say I haven't scanned the conference room a time or two thinking of different poses that could be practiced in that large space.

I recently sold a large piece of furniture in my living room. Though my plan all along has been to replace it, there is something nice about having an open floor plan for scissors and bird of paradise. I find myself using this space more now for yoga than I ever did for sitting, which has lead me to create a few yoga playlists while I "practice my practice" with no witnesses.

It's interesting how something so simple as practicing yoga makes me look at everyday life differently. It's refreshing.

Photos courtesy of fitsugar.com and flickr.com

Four Long Runs Left

Two Saturdays ago, I met Jen and Jeff at our CARA marathon training site.

Embarrassingly, it's only the second week I've been to group training this year.

The site coordinator made a few announcements including a sound bite that we have just four long runs left in training.

Wait a sec, only four more? How is that possible?

I know I missed quite a few Saturday morning group runs due to weddings, festivals, concerts and vacations...but really, just four?

He went on to explain that there were just four Saturdays where we would run more than what we'd run that morning.

Ok, now I feel a bit better. As I let out a sigh of relief, I started to cringe.

I could see how the conversation would turn into a further explanation of how many weeks total we had left including cut back weeks. Which would lead into the question that gets asked at least once a season to the group of 200 or so runners:

The site coordinator: "This week is a cut back week. What do we do on cut back weeks?"

A few runners mumble their answer that would surely make it on the Family Feud board.

If someone else doesn't blurt it out over everyone at the site, the site coordinator follows with, "Have more sex." 

Some people laugh, smile and cheer. My face flushes red and I fight my hesitation to walk away.  Do we really need to have a conversation like this right now?

I may have dodged the exchange in the earlier weeks of training, but I'm certain I won't make it through the remainder of training without hearing it.

Creating a Training Blog

I started blogging 7 years ago.

That was a long, long time ago.

My intent was to have a forum to note my successes and failures on my journey to become a distance runner.

Most journeys aren't a straight road. There's stops and hills along the way - injuries, life events, bad weather and even boredom. Other times you find yourself moving at a snail's pace.

In that time, I'd forgotten about the blog, trained for and ran two marathons. How did I manage to forget about the blog? I regret that now. Having a blog about someone's first attempt at a marathon would be a great read. [Hint, Camille]

But looking back, I think the reason I didn't chronicle it all was three fold. First, how much could I truly write about training? Second, who would really want to read it? And lastly, what if I failed? I certainly couldn't have a blog based on something I didn't do, right?

This week, I ran into one of my yoga instructors as I was leaving The Lab. She encouraged me to take her new class which is a higher level of difficulty. My first thought was that there was no way I was ready for something like that. I couldn't possibly be even halfway ok in that class.

As I drove home that night, I remembered that I used to feel that way about distance running.

Morning Run Motivation

August begins tomorrow. What comes with the month of August? The continuation of marathon training.

I gathered a few quotes from Pinterest to help keep training going on the right foot (or left perferably, in my case):

One for those early Saturday mornings:

For those August and September mid-week 8 and 10 milers:

To stay focused and dedicated:

 Running clears the mind:

Why I Love Group Training

Signing up for races is easy.

Training for a race is hard.

Which brings me to one of my favorite aspects of being a distance runner - group training.

Most people can train for a 5k or 10k or their own. Many can train for a half marathon on their own. But as someone once told me, the marathon is not twice as hard as a half marathon. It's four times as hard.

On the recommendation of Mark and a few others who completed 26.2, I joined the Chicago Area Runners association marathon training program at their Montrose Harbor location in 2008. Starting in mid-June, training officially starts and thus the weekend long run. Though the Saturday long runs is where I met many of my running friends -Sara, Jen, Kim, Jeff to name a few.

Getting used to the Saturday morning training runs took a few weeks. My body wasn't ready to run at 6:30. Nor was it used to getting up earlier to eat, get ready and drive to group training (or bike if I was really motivated that morning). But very quickly, I started to notice the benefits of group training. Which is why I recommend group training to any future marathoner.

Truthfully, now that I've trained for so long with a group, I can't imagine training without it. Granted, you don't need the group for every run. But there are those days where you're mind's giving you excuses to not run (It's too cold/hot, I'm too tired...or maybe, I'm hung over) and the accountability of running with a group helps. Over the years, we've created our own branches of the CARA system - The mileage may be a bit more. The start and end location may vary. And most likely you're starting earlier in the morning. But all and all, we're keeping with the same spirit of group training. Though sometimes the group may be just a pair.

With a group, you share a common goal. Though many members of the group may be training for the Chicago Marathon, some others are planning for races in other parts of the country or world.

Running with a group challenges the voice in your head. You know, that voice that says "It's ok. You can stop and walk." With the group,  you can tame that voice and instead conquer Cricket Hill, the big hill of the North Side.

Though my training experience continues to grow, I don't think I'll ever grow out of group training.

The Big Hill of the North Side

Did you know there's a big hill on the North Side of Chicago?

Before I tell you about it, I'll need you to get into my frame of mind as I approach the bottom of the mountain (ok, maybe it's just a big hill?):

I'm in the last quarter mile of a run varying from 5 to 18 miles. It's likely warm and humid. My body and mind are probably not at 100%.

My terrain in the run so far (not including the North Avenue bridge) has been flat. I love Chicago for that.

I've spent anywhere from the last 50 minutes to 3 hours running. I'm probably ready to be done. I've consumed a relatively large quantity of water and Gatorade, not to mention Gu. A discussion has already happened about brunch (and I've decided what I'm having). A conversation on the topic of bodily fluids likely happened. On the smell meter, I'm somewhere between moderately offensive to homeless man on the El. 

I'm thinking of the big sigh I will let out as I lay in my bed an hour from now, freshly showered and full of post-run kibble. It will be glorious.

We turn off the main lakefront pathway and onto the spur that goes closer to the lakefront. The group gears up for Cricket Hill which comes into sight as we clear the viaduct. The group leaders yell something motivational about taking the hill so we don't wuss out.

Then we take on Cricket Hill. 

 

photo courtesy of emmers712.blogspot.com

The rationale is that if you run up Cricket Hill at the end of each long run then you'll have no problem with Roosevelt Street Bridge at the end of the Chicago Marathon. 

The strategy's worked for me, so I guess I'll keep on truckin' up the hill.  

Sometimes the hill comes easy. But most of the time, at least in my experience, it owns me. I get to the top of it short of breath and out of gas. Why is it that I do this? Yet I continue to do it, group run after group run. If running it once a week between June and September isn't enough, sometimes I hit it on a Wednesday mid-week run or on the off season as it's covered in snow. 

The duel between Cricket Hill and I continues (and I'll try to forget there's hill's in D.C.).

3 Dresses in 72 Hours

Ok, I'll admit it - I'm a tomboy at heart.

I've always preferred sports to fashion.

I've cringed at the thought of modeling.

I don't really know much about make-up.

A pony tail is my favorite hair style.

(So, my true calling in life must have been to be a runner, don't you see?)

But a few weeks ago, I had to man-up to the call of being a woman and wear a dress. Three days in a row.
I don't know how I didn't see this coming weeks before - A black tie event on Thursday, rehearsal dinner on Friday and a wedding on Saturday.

You know what the problem is with being a true girl over being a tomboy? Maintenance. It's easy to maintain a tomboy life. A relatively comfortable range of clothes, ballet flats, no make-up, wash-and-go hair and a toothbrush. All your needs can fit in a backpack for an overnight trip.

But then there's those dress days. They require taking on the roll of being a true girl which requires nail polish, manicures, teeth whitening, mascara, bronzer, eyeliner, ipad (to watch videos on how to do hair and make-up of course), dry cleaning, earrings and more. Then there's the dainty purse to fit all your womanly crap in. It's all a game you can't win.

Men have it so easy. Suits, collared shirts and dress shoes with gym shoe comfort. While they stand around comfortably and look sharp, women are walking by with their feet jammed into shoes that were not meant to be worn.

Thoughts of plantar fasciitis are running through my head - and more importantly - when will it be acceptable to ditch the heels for the flats I have squirreled under the table? Also, can I ditch the wine I'm drinking and get a beer now? Are we at that point in the night?

I may have had a dream or two or ten about my running shoes, shorts and a sleeveless tech tee in that three day time frame. I just might have. 

Fort2Base Fun Run

Marathon training is a long and oftentimes laborious process. A great way to break up the monotony is to run races during training. Next weekend, I'm running the Rock and Roll Half Marathon downtown. Rock and Roll is a nice and convenient race, but the summer training race that has my heart is Fort2Base.

I recently blogged about how I discovered Fort2Base. You can read about it here.

www.Fort2Base.com

Why do I love Fort2Base? It's the perfect mix of things I love brought into a running event - military theme, running on a military base, point to point race format, North Shore location, Salute Inc. (my charity for the marathon) is a benefactor of race proceeds, post brunch at Pinstripes, etc.

I'd love to get all Rocky here and share inspiring stories of all my races, but truthfully, they don't happen often. My first Fort2Base run was an exception, and to date, probably the most inspiring run I've ever had. I credit this to my brother serving in Afghanistan at the time. You can read about that run here. 

Over the last few years, a handful of my friends have come along with for the journey up to Great Lakes to run Fort2Base. I learned at the conclusion of Fort2Base last year that the race seeks ambassadors to share information with their friends and network on the race. Sounded like a fun gig.

On Wednesday, July 31st, I'm hosting a Fort2Base fun run with the help of my friends at Universal Sole in downtown Chicago. 

Universal Sole recently opened a second location at 333 East Benton Place, which is located just behind the AON Center. The fun run starts at 6pm. Three and five mile distances can be run. If you're interested in hearing about the race, the run, or both, please meet me there.

Or, if you're interested in hearing more about the race and can't make it, please reach out to me. I'd love to have you in as part of the experience!

Running in Another Man's Shoes

As a senior in high school, I was a witness to an incredible event. My uncle ran a marathon. I remember it so well. He seemed to run effortlessly. He would pick my grandparents, my aunts and my mom out of the crowd of thousands lining the streets. We followed him with amazement.

He was the first person we knew to ever run a marathon.

He went on to run two marathons after that first in Chicago.

When I got into running, he became a great resource for any question I had.

Years later, we ran the Shamrock Shuffle together.

As life happens, sometimes we move away from one thing to pursue another. I don't think many people, at least not us middle of the pack runners, throw ourselves a running retirement party. Instead, something happens one day or year that changes our path - a new job, family, a baby, or maybe less inspirational, like an injury or new found boredom with the sport. Regardless of what the reasoning may be, a lot of us have been there or will go there one day.

So back to my uncle's story.

This past week, we traveled a long, long way south on quite possibly the most boring highway in the United States to see my Grandma. Illinois is a different world south of I-80, and it's a complete culture change as you approach Kentucky. Life is slower there. Cell phones barely work. There's no internet. For a few days, we spend time talking, sitting on the deck, eating and drinking. I find it relaxing on these trips to go on a shorter run on at least one of the mornings. I can run for four miles and see three cars. A big change from Sheridan Road.

One morning, I laced up my running shoes and headed out down a road which is named only by the material it's made out of and a number. I saw one farmer, seven cows, a deer, a fisherman, and two pick up trucks during my four mile run.

When I returned to the house, instead of rushing inside to change and get ready for work, I was able to spend some time stretching on the deck overlooking the lake. It was during this time that my uncle passed by me. He asked how my run was and how far I'd gone. I showered shortly thereafter and had a second breakfast.

A short while later, I was sitting outside with a small group including my uncle. He asked what size shoe I wore. I smiled. I knew where he was going with this. "My running shoes are an 11" I replied, which sparked a quick conversation about women's to men's sizing. Then I was asked if I had a pair of socks and maybe a pair of shorts? Lucky for him, I'm the build of the average man, so sizing was working out in his favor.

Shortly thereafter, he was suited up in my gear and off on the roads. He returned some time later saying that the shoes were a bit snug, but it felt good to get out there.

Welcome back to running, Mark.

Camille: Marathoner in Training

Camille is my cousin. We're pretty close in age. We enjoy laughing, making fun of things, drinking beer, and well, more recently, running.

Though our first three shared passions can be done just about anywhere (a family gathering in a backyard, a bar or even a parking lot), running brings us to new, unexplored places.

In the last few years, Camille has moved from the occasional jogger to an endurance runner. Last spring, she completed her first 10 mile run at the Soldier Field 10. In the fall, she completed her first half marathon. This spring, she ran the Soldier Field 10 again, smashing her previous time.

What I didn't mention in Camille's list of accomplishments is something she did in early February. She registered for the Chicago Marathon.

Anyone can register for the marathon, but it takes a special kind of person to fully commit to training for a marathon.  It takes a lot of time, determination and dedication.

Each week, I read updates on Camille's training. She shares funny running stories. She squeezes in a weekday run while her kids are at sports practice. She's putting in her time on the road.

In less than four months, Camille will complete her first marathon. I get chills just thinking of her going through this experience for the first time. But even more than that, I'm happy to have witnessed her transformation into who she is today. Someone who has fought through the challenges and in turn become a stronger runner -  with each run, through each month and year.

It is truly amazing what we can accomplish when we won't take no for an answer.

Tiny Injuries & the Ego

Though we hate to admit it, injuries do happen.

They aren't welcomed when they appear and they're even less appreciated during their stay in our bodies. When they leave, we don't throw them a farewell party. They 'move on' and so to we (and quite happily we go along without them).

My close friend Margo is training for her second marathon. She ran her first marathon a number of years ago. Now she's juggling two young children, a husband, a career and training. On days when I'm up early running, she's often already posted a photo of her sunrise lakefront run. She has a training plan and determination.

What sideline's her carefully thought-out plan is tiny injuries. A finger sprain. A swollen toe. Annoyances. How hard is it not to let injuries affect your training ego? Very hard.

If the conversation going on in your head about your injury isn't enough to drive you to the couch, there's those friends and family members who recommend the end all be all solution - just quit.

They tell you that you're not cut out for the training. Your body is telling you not to. Maybe you hear the catch-all 'swimming is really the best activity for you' line. But whatever you've been doing for exercise that you love (running, riding, whatever), you should just quit doing that. Because that makes complete sense. Instead, apparently, you should bump up your cable package and prepare yourself for a sedentary life.

Hopefully the determined fighter in you isn't talked into hanging up your running shoes just yet. You seek out opinions from athletic friends, explaining your current aliment. Your friend can manage to talk you off the cliff about 90% of the time. Pretty good odds. They bring along war stories and suggestions for exercises. The underlying message is that in a short time, you will bounce back from this. The same amount of time might seem like a lifetime to you in your current state.

So stay with it, you Margo's of the world, tomorrow's a new day. And next week is a new lifetime.

Fort2Base Door Tag

In March of 2011, I went to the Shamrock Shuffle Expo. I combed through all the aisles of running goodness and ran across a new race, Fort2Base.

I learned that the race would be a point to point race (kinda nice not to end up where you started, eh?) from Fort Sheridan to Great Lakes Naval Base.

The person working the booth gave me this door tag:

I went back to my office and placed it on my door where it's remained since.

I think it's fitting that the door tag remain. Not only does it remind me of Fort2Base, but it also ties in with my overall office door theme. When I moved into an office a number of years ago, my brother was deployed in Korea. I tapped a yellow ribbon and an image of the American flag on my door along with a photo of my brother from his deployment in Iraq.

Each time my brother has been called to serve, I put his photo back on the front of my door. When he returns, I remove it. But the flag, ribbon and Fort2Base door tag remain.

This year, I will run Fort2Base again with a few friends. I'm volunteering as a Fort2Base race ambassador this year. I hope that I can spread the word of this unique race that supports our local military communities and our veterans.

Balancing with Scissors

No yoga journey is complete without a taste of arm balances.

Last night's class at the Lab was focused on transitions.

We spent a few moments working on some challenging positions, including scissors.

Though my scissors aren't cutting quite as high or straight as this photo, I seem to have the arm positioning and balance right.

Four months ago when I walked into the Lab, I would have never thought I'd be figuring out scissors one day, let alone the handful of other positions I'm slowly improving upon.

It's exciting to see success.

Most Read Post Winner: Blisters Under Toenails

Last September, I wrote a rather graphic depiction of blisters forming under my toenails post 2011 Chicago Marathon.

You can read it here.

It's by far the grossest post I've ever written (out of 200).

Yet, in the last 9 months, over 500 people have navigated their way to read it.

So, thanks... I think?

Are gruesome posts the way to go? I hope not.

Though it seems there's many out there goggling their way to find relief.

May blisters be the worst of our troubles as summer begins.

Glowing in the Dark

Late last week, I was given a free entry to check out LivingSocial's inaugural "Glow in the Dark 5k" fun run.

I wasn't sure what to expect as the four of us approached Soldier Field Saturday night. I think our minds were recalling the storm that had passed through Chicago in the last few hours. Our eyes were on the sky to see if Glowing in the dark also meant being wet.

I kept an open mind as to what this race would be. Inaugural races are learning experiences for all. Even with the pending storm, we were surprised to see so many participants lined up at the start area.

The run started just south of Soldier Field. Participants were instructed to wear all black. Glow sticks were provided to illuminate the crowd as we waited to start this fun run.

I'd read there would be music throughout the course. Races have advertised this before and I've found the amount of area the music covered less than anticipated. However, this run got it right.

Stations were set up along the course with DJs and good sound systems. As one station faded, another picked up. The music choices were stellar.

Along with the DJ stations were large light-up props to help theme out the course.

Though many participants chose to walk the route, in general, the crowds seemed to give way to us as we ran by. People stopped to take pictures and listen to music. The course was an experience within itself that as I look back on it, I cheated myself by running through it.

Following the run was a dance party inside Soldier Field. The music didn't disappoint. Many participants stayed well past our 10:30 departure time.

As we stood on the field listening to music post run, I was reminded of the Soldier Field 10 the weekend before. My cousin had set a massive 12 minute PR as she crossed the 50 yard finish line. In a few weeks, I'll be back a Soldier Field for a music festival.

All and all, the Glow in the Dark 5K was a fun event. I just wish I hadn't ate an entire basket of cheese curds before the run.

Drink 3, run a 5k?

We've tested "Drink 3 the night before a race and get a PR." It's a successful program.

But what happens if your race isn't a morning race?

I remember Brian calling me last summer concerned about the Las Vegas Half. This race, which ran down the famed strip, started in the evening. How do you properly fuel for an evening race? An more importantly, how do you drink 3?

Yesterday I found myself in a unique situation:

I was asked Friday morning by our LivingSocial rep if I'd have any interest in running their inaugural Chicago "Glow in the Dark 5k." I knew Kim A. Had registered for it and the evening was open. So I gathered a few more to join in the fun. The race started at 8:30pm at Soldier Field.

The Hawks game was on at 4, so Kim and I headed down to a South Loop bar. We had a hockey team to cheer on and some time to kill.

The question wasn't if I was going to have a beer or two, but rather how many was just enough to then run a 5k. This was uncharted territory. So we texted Brian. Could drink 3 apply if it was just a few hours before an untimed night fun run?

His response "Drink 3 always applies."

And so, with the help of $3 Summer Shandys and a huge basket of Wisconsin cheese curds, we cheered the Hawks to victory.

The only interruption in the Hawks road to game one victory was the looming storm over Chicago. It came in waves and knocked out the bar's satellite service. It rained sideways as the skies grew dark.

Seven thirty came and went as we stayed in the bar along with many other race participants. We all seemed to be debating the same thing - do we head to the race with the potential to get soaked or stay dry in the bar and miss the race?

By the time we left, I'd had four drinks and wondered what type of performance I could have after my earlier day activities.

I'll post about the race experience later as it was totally geared towards my love for dance music, but for now, I was my very own lab rat.

Practice in Patience

If running and riding hasn't brought on enough frustration and injury in the last five years, I've found a new avenue. Yoga.

There are many positions in yoga that require one or both feet to leave the ground. Here's where it gets complicated.

Though yoga classes are called 'practices' I tend to think them more as the show.

Practicing is done in the confines of my condo with very few witnesses.

For weeks, I practiced side crow for ten or fifteen minutes in the evening. Over time, I started to stick it. In between, I fell.

For a number of evenings, Dave was amused both by what was on TV and my side show. I fell. We laughed. I hovered for a split second. He played along that he saw it to pacify me. I used my iPad to film my arm positioning and figure improvements. The cats watched with confusion.

Once falling had dissipated in side crow, it was time to move onto something I'd not yet gotten a grip on. Something more dangerous, or, at least in my unbalanced and bruised world.

Last week I came home from work late with a few things to wrap up for the office from home. My planned 4 mile run did not happen that day, though the beautiful weather drew just about every runner out onto the lakefront.

I rolled out my mat and watched a few YouTube videos on crow. Though I didn't stick it that evening, I felt I'd gained some valuable ground. Over time, I hope one day it will come with ease and look something like this:

As Dave says to me often, "Patience is a virtue."

Patience is not something I have much of. I better keep searching for it through yoga practice.

The Man with the Flag

This morning I ran the Chicago Spring Half Marathon. The weather was a complete 180 from last year - warm and sunny.

Jen and I met Sara and a few others at the Universal Sole tent before heading over to the start line.

My runs have been slow and labored lately. Going into this race, I didn't have high hopes for a PR. In fact, I had given up on the thought weeks ago. Note to self, PR's can't happen if you keep doubting.

As Jen and I started, the 2:10 pace team came along side us. We decided to try to keep with them, at least the first few miles. Walking through the aid stations gave me a chance to catch my breath, then continued on. All along, I kept my eye on the flag.

As Jen and I had headed to the start line, we saw a man, a participant in the race, carrying a large flag. I remember reading a post on Facebook about a man running with a large flag at either another race or out on a trail in the burbs. I wondered if this was the same guy.

The flag was a good distance ahead of us. We saw it heading back before we hit the turn around point. It was right around then that Jen pulled ahead and I tried to maintain, staying just in front of the 2:10 group.

The second half was particularly challenging. I've not been training the way I was this time last year. Overall, I'm slower. But yet there I was, attempting to stay within a few minutes of my personal best time for this distance. So I pushed on.

Between mile 11 and 12, I came up to the man with the flag. I wondered if he was having a tough second half too. Though i imagined the sheer wind resistance from carrying such a large flag must be fierce. I thought of the symbolism of him carrying a flag on Armed Forces weekend. I thought of my brother.

As I passed him, I gave him a thumbs up and said "I love it." He smiled and replied "I love it too." I immediately got goosebumps. For a moment I thought I was going to tear up. But that moment provided newfound inspiration that carried me to the end.

Thank you, man that carried the flag today.

Thank you, all of you that serve(d) in our Armed Forces.

Thank you, Dan.

First Morning Run

I've been thinking it was about time I switched back over to weekday morning runs. The days are getting longer. The weather is getting nicer. Work is getting crazier.

So last night, after I missed an opportunity to run in the 80 degree weather due to a later night at the office, I decided to do something about it. I set my alarm for an hour earlier.

This morning, I headed out shortly after 6am for an easy three mile run. I'm not sure how many times I've run this route, but I'm sure it's in the hundreds.

I jump on Sheridan heading south until I hit the lakefront path's northerly end at Hollywood Ave. I stop briefly at the drinking fountain at the bike turn around and head back home.

I doubt I know any stretch of road better than this mile and a half.

Many people complain about the congestion on Sheridan Road.  It can be hard to navigate in a car. Vehicles bob and weave around others turning left and buses making frequent stops. They honk and cut each other off.

Then there's the sidewalk on the east side of the street. It's my running route along with so many others. It's possible to run from my house all the way to my turn around without having to stop at a streetlight. A unique feature in a city founded on a grid.

This morning, as I eased into my morning routine, I paid special attention to the sidewalk and things around it:

A chalk drawing on the sidewalk by Loyola - Congratulations, graduates.  Well that's nice.

A few seconds further, a pool of red liquid, questionably blood, next to the Red Eye newspaper vending box. Hm, seems questionable. 

A lone empty bag of Cheeto's. Eh, nothing unusual there.

An empty bottle of Yellow Tail next to an empty pack of Camel Menthol's. Looks like someone had a one man party with those items. 

As I was heading back thinking of blood, Cheetos, Yellow Tail and Camel Menthol's, I came upon a familiar face. It was Glen.

Glen is not his real name. It's the name I've given him as he lives at the corner of Glenlake & Sheridan. I see Glen on most of my morning runs. I smile and he waves. He greets me with a 'Good Morning' sometimes. Little does he know, he is often the first person who talks to me in a day.

I wondered at the end of last season if I'd see Glen again this year. He's getting up there in age. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him this morning. He was wrangling his small dog as I passed by, so I don't think he saw me. But I know I'll see him out there tomorrow morning.

Hello again, morning summer runs.

The Wrath of Heated Power Vinyassa Yoga

In the last year, my coworker and I have been doing a sort of citywide yoga studio tour. Though we've fallen in love with The Lab, we're continuing to try out others as well.

For the last week, I've been going to yoga studio #5. It's located in Streeterville which is quite convenient to work and the train. The studio is in a nice sunlit and spacious place. Our first class was a Friday evening candlelit vinyassa flow class. Just challenging enough for a Friday night.

Last week, I tried my first heated power vinyassa class. Though the class proved to be challenging and warm, I didn't feel like it defeated me.

Last night, I took the same class again. I was expecting the same experience last last week, hoping to build on poses that proved particularly challenging.

But this practice took a different turn. Instead of on-the-verge-of-uncomfortable warm, the room quickly turned into sauna-like temperatures. The teacher flowed between positions quickly. My mat couldn't keep up with the sweat it was given.

I looked around the room. Everyone was sweating, but no one seemed to be sweating as much as me. I continued through the class as best as I could. As we stood in mountain pose, sweat ran from my temples down my face and off my chin. As we moved into forward fold, the sweat reversed directions. Big drops of sweat plummeted my mat as I rested in downward facing dog. As we caught up with our breath in child's pose, I looked for a place to put the crown of my head that wasn't already soaked.

I stopped frequently to drink water and wipe my face on my shirt. I found myself wondering how running 26 miles was possible for this body but not 70 minutes of heated power vinyasa.

As we moved into balancing poses, I struggled to find a place to place. After all, slip and slides weren't meant to let one defy gravity. I stepped off my mat to see the immediate area wasn't much safer. Now this is just embarrassing.

Class wound down and the teacher thanked us for coming. Another student commented about the warm room. The teacher admitted this wasn't her usual class. In fact, she hadn't taught a heated class in some time. As we walked out of the room, I caught a glimpse of the thermostat. It read 120 degrees.

I rest my case.

Running Made Me

There are not enough answers at a time like this. I've been thinking about yesterday's events and reading updates online. I didn't know if I should write a post about Boston. I wasn't there.

But tonight I saw something on my walk from work to the bus that encouraged this post. A small group, maybe eight runners, gathered on the lakefront path near Ohio Street beach. I was wearing running gear having finished a late afternoon run towards the end of the work day. I glanced the group's way as I walked by. When I saw the flag, I smiled. It touched me. Then a guy from the group smiled back and asked "want to run with us?"

Had I not crossed paths with them with a backpack, purse and rain coat, maybe I would have joined the group. After all, the idea of running with strangers isn't really strange at all. That's the beautiful thing about running. We can all do it.

Which lead me to think as I continued my walk to the bus. Where would I be without running?

I would know less people. I would have fewer stories and memories. I would have laughed less.

I would have gone on fewer trips. I wouldn't have foam rolled. Or gu'd. Or drank three the night before a race.

I wouldn't have gotten up before the sun on weekends to meet with dozens of people who were once strangers, but now my friends. Some of my closest friends.

I would have never experienced an entire city coming together, through its dozens of neighborhoods, to act as one on race day. People that have never met me would not have cheered for me. I would have never felt the overwhelming since of pride for my city the way that I do on race day. I would have never known how it feels to cross the finish line of a marathon.

It's hard to even imagine. Where would I be if running hadn't made me?

I am cornholio

Ok, I'll admit it, I was never much of a Beavis and Butthead fan.

But I do remember the 'I am cornholio' bit of the show.

Does this photo from the F^3 Lake Half Marathon remind you at all of it?

The swag for registering for the F^3 Lake Half Marathon was a head gator.

A head gator is a tubular piece of fabric around 1' x 1' which you can contort into a half dozen different shapes - many that were quite handy on a windy January day.

I found the head gator to be quite useful during the race. I remember thinking - just when I thought I had every piece of gear related to running, Kim had introduced me to something new. And it worked great. I loved it.

Here's an image of Brian and my finish. Notice Brian's picture-perfect pose. And I, well, I am cornholio.

And I'll use it again. Many times I'm sure. Hopefully there won't be a photographer around to capture it. 

Dave meets the Foam Roller

Last week, the weather broke (well, at least for a few days).

While I was out running and eventually falling, Dave was out golfing. Santa brought Dave a new set of clubs that he's been itching to break in.

On Friday, we went out to dinner. As I was driving to the restaurant, he told me his side was bothering him. I asked him to be more specific. As he explained more, it sounded all too familiar. Ah ha! Dave too has an IT band.

As we exited the car, I demoed the 'cross one foot over the other and lean' IT band stretch. It didn't seem to help much. At dinner, I told Dave he was going to meet his fate that evening when we went back home. What Dave needed, my friends, was the foam roller.

He didn't seem worried. Ah yes, I remember the days before I first foam rolled. I would see people using them at the gym. I thought it was just a fad, like The Reebok Step. But then I foam rolled and damn, did it hurt.

When we returned home that evening, I pulled out the foam roller and showed Dave a few, seemingly painless, moves. Minutes later, Dave had his first encounter with the foam roller. And the foam roller won.

He rolled. He grimaced. He howled. He screamed obscenities. He took a breather. Then rolled again. "This hurts!" He told me. Yes Dave, it does. I saw sweat forming at his hairline. That's when I knew the foam roller was really getting to him.

He next night, he was at it again. Rolling. Sweating. Swearing.

Once again, the foam roller shows it's domination in my house.

The foam roller always wins.

The Making of a Marine

For the last five years, I've ran one marathon a year. Quite possibly the greatest marathon in the world - The Chicago Marathon.

While friends have traveled to different cities, states and counties, I've stayed with my hometown race.

I've had dreams about running London, but its near impossible to get into. I've also had another race on my mind - The Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C. A few friends have run it and had good things to say (ok, all but Brian).

One day last summer, Jeff and I got to talking about other races we might like to do. We talked briefly about Marine Corps then. Jeff then proceeded to run two marathons in October last year- Chicago (we ran the race together and both PR'd) and then Amsterdam (Jeff ran with Kimberley and she PR'd).

Shortly after the new year, jeff and I were part of an email discussion on other races to run this year. Marine Corps came up and we both said we wanted in. Marine Corps registration was not until the end of March whereas Chicago's was at the beginning of February. And so, the idea of two marathons in October was born.

After much anticipation following Chicago's registration and last year's Marine Corps selling out in just a few hours, the day came. Carl, Jeff and I were all logged in a noon EST to be in the minute registration opened.

This registration process proved to have its fair share of challenges. The same Chicago had a few weeks earlier and the same as the Wine Country half a month earlier. The overwhelming interest in these events is driving people to all rush the registration sites the minute they open. And so, for two hours, the three of us tried. Carl and I got in just minutes before registration closed. Jeff wasn't able to get in that day, but has a few other avenues to look into to get a bib for the race.

We'll run Chicago on October 13th, and on October 27th (my 34th birthday), we'll run Marine Corps.

I can't wait. Even if it means we can barely walk at the end of the month.

The [Almost] Shuffle

I've ran the Shamrock Shuffle on and off for the last eight years. Off years were when the Shuffle conflicted with a vacation or worse, I was injured.

I was prepared to run it again this year, remembering last years warm temperatures and my standing 8k PR. I'm more than ready to say goodbye to winter weather right about now.

Wednesday, I joined a fun run from the new Universal Sole location in Lakeshore East. The 3.5 mile loop took us down to run right on the lake's edge as opposed to the bike path closer to Lake Shore Drive. As I ran that night, I thought about how I never think to run down right on the water like that. Maybe I'd start mixing it up a bit.

The following day, I met a friend for a lunch run date. I met her about a mile in to my run and we headed south. Again, we went along the water's edge. The weather was so beautiful I had tied my coat around my waist. We were in a conversation about our Easter weekends when it happened. All in slow motion. My right ankle buckled and I began to lose my balance - Oh no. This is happening. Again.

We regrouped in the grass and I assessed the sprain. Could I walk it off? I thought so. We continued south for a few minutes, then picked up running again. We ran another 6 miles together.

By the time I returned to the office, my ankle was getting stiff. Unfortunately, I know this process all too well. So much so that I have provisions at work to RICE (rest, ice, elevate, compress).

Though I was disappointed in my klutzy performance, I hoped that this little fall wouldn't sideline my Shuffle plans. After all, it was only Thursday.

Fast forward to tonight. I decided just this evening, after reading more online, taking to my massage therapist and trying to think of the bigger training picture, that I won't run the race tomorrow morning. Though my ankle seems to be on the mend, a week of no running is probably the best remedy to ensure it has a chance to heal.

Dave tried to console me by saying, "it's just the Shuffle. It's not the (Chicago) marathon or Marine Corps (marathon)." He's right. The Shuffle is not my 'A' race this year. But I remember not so long ago when it was. I think it's a great event that gives many runners a big city race feel.

The most difficult part about not running tomorrow is that I am forfeiting my commitment to run the race. That's unlike me. No matter what race I've signed up for over the years, I've always been there on race day. Ok, there was one Soldier Field 10 I had to pass on due to an injury, but its the only race I can think of. Tomorrow will be two.

Making Lemonade

We all know the saying that goes something like, 'When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.'

As winter drags on much longer and cooler than it should be allowed, I'm digging deep to stay motivated.

Those first few steps out the door truly are the worst ones of a run. Especially when it's cold and windy and you live right on top of the lake.

I went out on a six mile run two Sundays ago in the later part of the afternoon. Instead of running early in the morning, I was waiting for the rain to break and for the warmest part of the day to appear.

When I finally hit the road, I realized I had forgotten to grab gloves or a hat. It was windy drizzling slightly. As I turned a corner, the wind pushed it's way hard in the opposite direction. It nearly sent me home.

I wasn't even a half mile into the run. I couldn't allow myself the thought of heading back 'just to get gloves and a hat' because I might find some excuse to not go back out. You can't run just a mile of a six mile run.

So I toughed it out. My hands were tingling from the cold. I tried to pull the sleeves down on my outer layer to cover them. I reminded myself that things would get better once I warmed up. They had to. It couldn't get much more uncomfortable.

A mere ten minutes later I was passing my turn around for a 3 mile run. A stretch I run often before work in the summer. I started thinking about summer - Shorts. Sun. Heat. Baseball Games. Beach. Music Festivals. Marathon Training. Breakfasts. Crazy Early Runs. Gu. Chafing. Brunch with Bananas Foster.

Thoughts of summer and training turned what started as a miserable run into a fine one.

Yoga at the Lab

Sara and I have been on a city yoga studio tour over the last year. We've had some great teachers and breakthroughs with poses. No stop on this journey can quite compare to the Lab.

No, the Lab isn't a nickname or code for a yoga studio we've been visiting. It's a real place (and that place means serious yoga business, as any place using the name The Lab should). The Lab is located in a spacious location in the West Loop. It's recommended that all new students spend a number of sessions in level one classes. That's because a level one class at the lab is a level two or three at other studios (or at least the studios we've visited). But don't let that scare you. Remember, it's through being challenged where you can grow the most.

The Lab is big on inversions. I had this intel going in to the studio last month, but one doesn't have to look very far up an unassuming white wall to see its been given some tough love. Students before us had learned the basics with the walls support to take on some of yoga's most fearful positions.

For example, it's become standard operating procedure to do a forearm stand during our level one class. You know, forearm stand, that thing in between a headstand and handstand -



You start using the wall. Then graduate to no wall.



Then, I guess, as you get more comfortable with the pose, maybe the mood strikes you as you're watching tv.

 

Or on your deck.



Maybe during a trip to the beach.




Or while visiting an abandoned urban building.




Regardless of when or where, once you can do it, you could do it anywhere. And why wouldn't you?

Would you, for example, come home and be so inclined to demo forearm stand to your half-interested boyfriend? Why yes you would.

And maybe one day when forearm stand seems just too easy, you challenge yourself to a modified pose, maybe even a scorpion.

But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves.

Opening Day

Much like major league baseball, the racing season has it's share of rare yet popular experiences.

The Cubs may never win a world series, but just about any better than average baseball fan wants to step foot in the friendly confines. And what if the Cubs did make it to the world series? Imagine the fans that would come out of the woodwork to see it!

Along those same lines, most runners train for their first marathon in Anytown, USA. Some of us are lucky enough to have a big city marathon be our first. Sometime after that first marathon, most of us have thought about the Boston Marathon. Or for the Ironmen reading, Kona. The big event of your sport.

In cases of the true hallmark events, a vast majority of us average marathoners will never have the chance to run Boston or London (unless we get in through a charity race entry). The difference between our PR and the minimum for qualification into the race is too great. And even if we did meet those qualification standards, we'd still have to be sitting at our computers that first minute on opening day.

Opening day for Chicago baseball is usually a cold, sometimes wet, day in April. But it's opening day never the less, and tens of thousands of fans from all sides of the city and suburbs come out for it.

Opening day for your 'A' race depends on when it's held. In general, a fall marathon's registration opens in the first few months of the year. As endurance events have gained in popularity, registration on opening day has become imperative. Looking back to 2008, my first marathon, CARA training had started before the Chicago Marathon had sold out (about five months). Since that time, the race has added 5 or 7,000 additional entries and still, last year, sold out in a number of days.

So, on an upcoming Tuesday, I will be posed at my computer as the clock strikes noon to register for the 36th annual Chicago Marathon. Thousands of other runners from around the world will join me. I can only imagine the race will break a record again this year with the shortest period of time to a sell out.

The thought had crossed my mind (albeit briefly) to not run Chicago this year. I find myself thinking about the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C. Marine Corps will be held at the end of October this year (ironically on my birthday). Registration opens mid-March and sold out in mere hours last year. So I will try again on Marine Corps opening day.

In a few weeks I could have entries into two marathons, one marathon or none.

Opening Day will decide.

Road to Nowhere

The nice thing about training is it gives you a road.

A weekly schedule of workouts. Strength exercises, track interval runs and long runs.

The road's clearly marked for the number of months you'll follow it until race day.

You don't question the road, rather just follow it on the journey it's taking you.

When it's raining on the road, you run in the rain.

You continue on the road until your run ends that day.

Many times you're doubling back on the part of the road you've just came from to get back home.

But what happens when the road ends? Not literally, but the training road.

Where do you go then?

Some of us take shelter in our home gym, athletic clubs, yoga studios, and cross fit centers to mix it up the training regime.

Some move on to the next road. A recovery schedule to prep for their next race.

Then there's the unmentionables. The ones that just stop.

I've met a few people like this. They run the marathon and stop running the minute their feet cross the finish like for months.

My post marathon training program hasn't been the best road I've ever been on. Mostly because instead of being on a rigid, clearly marked highway, I'm instead stuck on a windy road in the country that keeps changing names and direction. I may be running (read a lot) less than recent years' comparison, but I continue to enjoy the yoga studio and look forward to future success there.

Now where are my running shoes?

Fearless

Remember when you were fearless?

You know, when you were a kid and you were willing to try things without worrying about the consequences?

Back before fashion woes, make up, or attraction to the opposite sex?

Before you were concerned about falling, a potential of hurting yourself or failing?

Can you think of a moment?

I found myself going back to middle school last night as I stared down an unassuming white wall in a yoga studio. Our instructor went over the set up for a handstand as I tried to reason with myself.

My first reaction was fear, and with it came anxiety and less confidence and physical stability. We were being asked to stay in the moment as we're tasked to do in yoga. Instead I went back there. Into the Rolodex of my memory to my last handstand. Where was I the last time I did a handstand? The truth is, I probably don't remember the very last handstand I did. It was probably something unassuming as a youth. Little did I know it would be my last one. I don't think any of us think that way as kids though.

What I did remember was doing handstands against the bookcase in my parents family room.

So I stood there staring down the wall and asking myself 'How did I used to do this?'

Then I tried. The worst that could happen was to fall and take out the girl next to me. That wouldn't be ideal, but I should proceed with that risk rather than watch others succeed because they were less fearful than me.

I tried a dozen or so times until I finally got the right momentum to get both legs up. Once I did it, I was able to hold myself there. I wondered, how tall was I the last time I did this? How much did I weigh? Most importantly, why did I stop doing this? This is fun. Certainly more fun than sitting on a couch or in an office chair. Why wouldn't I still be doing this?

Photo credit: crazybreather.blogspot.com

Missed [Running] Opportunities

Do you ever have one of those days where you just can't get your sh-t together?

Yesterday was one of them for me:

I woke up and checked my weather app. It read 60 degrees. In Chicago. In January. Amazing. A run must happen today!

I went through my get-ready-for-work routine and left the house for the bus stop. As I walked down to the bus stop, I recalled my backpack being quite light. I had left my running shoes at home. And not just any running shoes. A brand new pair of shoes that I planned on breaking in today. A brand new pair is heaven after running in a pair towards the end of their useable life.

The thought crossed my mind to go back home and grab the shoes. How negatively could my commute be effected if I left ten minutes later?

I looked down at my phone and saw a text from my mom. It read 'Lunch?' and that was it. I kept walking to the bus stop and didn't turn around. A few things happened in a matter of minutes that sidelined my lunchtime run plans.

As I looked up to cross the street to the bus stop, a fast runner passed me with a bright pair of compression socks on. This only made my situation worse. He was out there, getting his with his bad ass compression socks and I was waiting for the damn bus. Fail.

I boarded a crowded bus and stared longingly out the window and we traveled down Sheridan and on to Lake Shore. I saw more of them. Men and women. Wearing shorts. Smiling. I was on the wrong side of the road right now and couldn't help but beat myself up about it. 

I tried to console myself by saying I'd run when I got home. It would still be in the high 40's then and incredibly warm for a January evening. As my workday progressed, I watched the weather outside my window change to rain and dark.

I walked back to the bus stop as a light rain began. A little rain is nothing. I'll run through rain I thought. Then the skies opened up and it poured buckets. Around 20 of us waited for the bus with only the cover of our somewhat useless umbrellas. Our feet became wet followed by our pants and then our backs. Eventually the bus arrived and all the wet dogs piled on the bus with the other wet animals.

I tried to take myself to a happy place while in this situation and imagined if I'd gotten up early and run like the guy in the compression socks.

The F^3 Lake Half Marathon

On Saturday, I'm doing something many would think is crazy. I'm running a half Marathon. In Chicago. On the lakefront.

Around 10am on Saturday, approximately 1500 runners and a hundred or so volunteers will gather at Montrose Harbor for the 4th annual F^3 Lake Half Marathon.

What's F^3 you may ask? The F'n Freezing Frozen. Appropriately named considering the weather forecast for Saturday wouldn't you say?

This race is the brainchild of my friend Kim S. She gathered a group of her friends together a few years ago to celebrate winter training with a 13.1 fun run. I didn't get a chance to participate that year. I was rehabbing a sore knee and weak hip. But shortly thereafter that first race, Kim knew she had a unique event to bring to the Chicago running community.

It's been fun and truly amazing to watch Kim grow the race since that first year. She has connected a subculture in the Chicago running community. Some may call us crazy. Others could say hardcore. Truthfully, I think a lot of us share the same disdain for treadmills.

(Fast forward a few days to today, the day after the race. I didn't manage to wrap this one up before the race like I hoped).

Brian and I got together on Friday night to keep to our ritual of drinking three the night before a race. Dinner was followed by laying out race gear (a more intricate task in the winter season) and going to bed. Dave and I headed to the race around 8 ( Dave volunteered), but not before I had to turn around together my bib off the refrigerator. (I'd forgotten the critical step of pinning my bib onto my shirt the night before).

The temperature that morning was what most would call freezing. The light snow the day border made a white blanket over the landscape. Perfect for photos. The wind was light and sun was out.

Dave took a great shot of the start area.

Brian, Jeff and I ran together for most of the race. That is, until Jeff left us in the dust around mile 10. We saw a few friends along the way and marveled at all the faces we didn't know. How quickly Kim's race has grown. We had a few quick walk breaks to alleviate a cramp or to take down fluids, but other than that, we're pretty happy with our performance. Especially with the lack of training we'd both done.

Shortly after the finish, we all met at the after party. It was great to see it so well attended and the crowd excitement for the race. For a short period, a large mass of the crazy winter runners were gathered in one place. We talked, laughed and had a few drinks. Then left each other's company saying we'd see each other soon - whether it be out on the path next week or this summer.

Channeling My Inner Gymnast

I fondly remember watching the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, Korea. The air or re-air time was such that I could watch some of the gymnastics coverage while eating breakfast. I recall tumbling in the living room imagining I was there, even though I had no idea where Korea was.

After my connection with gymnastics and Korea over those few weeks, I asked my parents if I could take gymnastics. The following summer, I found myself in the gym of what would one day be my high school, learning the basics of gymnastics. I loved it.

Tumbling was fun. You could flip and turn, land on the floor spring board and pop right back up. You could pretend you were competing in the Olympics with your hair in a high pony tail and a glittery outfit. You could watch others complete a move then try yourself without fear of failure. I vividly remember practicing vaults over and over again while the radio (does anyone remember the radio station Z95?) played Rick Astley and other great artist of the late '80's. Keep in mind I was 8.

When the summer session ended, I went to Gym Kena in...wait for it... Mokena. Truthfully, I can't remember how long I continued to train. Maybe a year.

At this point in my life, I was already the tallest girl in my class and going through another growth spurt. At 9, I was easily an inch or two over 5' and wearing a size 9 shoe. Right around this time is when I started getting asked if I played basketball and/or volleyball. Little did I know those questions would never end. I remember a male and female instructor at the gym. I was as tall as the woman already.

Towards the end of the last class of the session, I remember one of them pulling me to the side and telling me in a very nice way that I was not cut out for gymnastics. I'm sure there was some sort of basketball mention made as a way to segway the conversation into what could be assumed was my athletic future.

Fast forward to last winter when I picked up yoga again at the first studio. I'd practiced yoga at my gym in the mid 2000's, but now I was practicing with some advanced instructors and students. Inversions were not an if, but a when in each session. Imagine my delight when the wheel pose was mentioned towards the end of class. Why yes, I remember doing this in gymnastics, and in fact, I could still do it. Yoga breakthrough.

Since then, I've been trying to channel my inner gymnast. Some poses I recall doing when I was younger. Can I still do them? Just like when I was a kid, I should feel free to attempt in yoga practice without judgement/fear of failure.

When I can get in this mindset, I find I can push through any preconceived notions of what I should or shouldn't be able to do. It was through this thinking that I was able to do a headstand recently in practice. I'd had a stressful day at work, but in that moment, I was 8 again, listening to Rick Astley and loving life.

North Shore Runners

There aren't many Saturdays in January that reach 50 degrees. When you get one, you have to capitalize on it. With the F^3 Lake Half Marathon just two weeks away, I had a good distance planned for this weekend. This morning I ran 10 miles through the communities of Wilmette, Kenilworth, Winnetka and Glencoe.

Running through the North Shore is so different than running in the City. First you have the obvious differences. The streetlights are fewer and further apart. The sidewalks are wider. There's fewer high rises and more lawns.

Bikes and cars mix here and with no honking or yelling. Drivers seem to be more aware of runners. They yield to runners in cross walks. They look for us as they pull up to an intersection and let us cross in front of them. Sometimes they even back up to allow you the right of way before crossing the street. This behavior is mind blowing when you're used to playing frogger further south on Sheridan Road.

The thing that throws me any time I run here is what I'd like to all the runner's code of the North Shore. In the city, you may smile or nod at a fellow runner, especially if it's at a time or off season. But you wouldn't do this to every runner or any person you pass by. You wouldn't feel compelled to extend your contact with a greeting like "Good morning" or "How are you?"

But this morning, on my run, I heard this type of chatter. It's nice. Which made me wonder, why is it we don't do this in the City? Is it because we're too busy or don't want to be friendly? Maybe it's because we're scared. Maybe we're trying not to stand out.

Over the years as my contacts in the Chicago running community has grown, I do see us out there. On Friday I ran into George down around the Chicago Yacht Club. We were both a good five miles or more from home. I see George often. Which makes me wonder, how many times had I saw George before I met him?

Maybe if we had been greeting each other all along, we would have remembered each other's faces and started talking sooner. But we wouldn't want to seem creepy doing that in the City, would we?

The First Few Steps...

It's on rainy, dark days like this week that I truly appreciate Pinterest. From time to time, the social networking site which focuses on million dollar room remodels, outlandish vacations and all-too-perfect deserts has sucked me in. But within this time I've built a pretty awesome "Fitness and Motivation" Board.

The images I've included here are part of the build. They focus on the getting a move on to start a run and the sense of accomplishment at the end.

Oh summer, how I remember you with your warmth and 12+ hours of sunlight. Waking up early to run before work was easy. Now in the dark depths of winter, I need a little motivation to keep on moving.

I ran a 10 mile training run for the F^3 Lake Half Marathon last Sunday. I waited until later in the afternoon when the day's temperature was at it's peak (feels like 26 is what my weather app said as I left the house).

I'd put on my gear a good hour before I left. I had to really work to talk myself into doing this run. I had a few good excuses going like 'I've been sick' and 'I don't really have to do 10 miles today.'

Finally I left the house. The first few blocks around Loyola aren't my favorite. Truthfully, the first mile usually isn't great. But by the time I'm closing in on two miles, my body has warmed up and I feel good. 2 mile Laura is happy to be out and in this run for the long haul. Whatever the assignment may be today. But man, 2 block Laura or even 2 step Laura for that matter, was not sharing in the 2 mile presence of mind.

Amazing how a few thousand steps can change your outlook.

Finding The [Right Yoga] Mat

I reintroduced yoga into my weekly life about a year ago. 

I picked up my yoga mat, a towel and water bottle and headed to practice. Practice was a challenge, and with the challenge, came sweat. Sweat produced sliding and waterpark noises in the studio.

 It didn't take many practices before I realized I needed to up my gear. 

When I started running, I bought a pair of shoes at Kohl's and hit the road. It wasn't too long after that I was advised to try a specialty running store for real running shoes. Once I went through the shoe fitting process and loved the product, I was sold. Why would anyone not purchase running shoes this way?

After a few practices I visited my friends Google and Amazon. Surely a new yoga mat, being a simple piece of rubber, could be purchased through these sources, right? As I read I discovered there was so much I didn't know about yoga mats. I read testimonials from men and women swearing by one product over the other. Long mats, super cushioned mats. $10 mats, $100 mats.

After enough research to make my head spin, I decided to visit a Lululemon. We walked in and were helped immediately. I explained my predicament. The girl helping me was great. She thought The Mat would be perfect for me.

I checked out with The Mat in a cute bag and went along my way.

I'd read that The Mat had a horrible smell that took time to air out. I was prepared for it to smell like a tire factory - not that bad. The level of cushioning is supreme compared to any other mat I've used. Though with this superior cushioning comes weight, so weaklings may not want to tote it around.

Now onto the first practice with The Mat. A nice, warm vinyasa flow class. Sweat was eminent within the first five minutes and would continue for a solid hour. As advised, The Mat wicked sweat away from the surface. It provided a thicker cushion for my knees in poses where I would have doubled up my old mat. I found it comfortable to lay on during final relaxation pose.

I do wish The Mat was slightly longer. I'm over 6' and sometimes find myself adjusting poses to keep all points of contact on the mat.

But overall, I think it's a great product and recommend it to the big yoga sweaters out there.

Making Fuel with Fire

In order to train, we need to eat. In order to eat, sometimes we need to cook.

Though my last name may mean Cook in German, It couldn't be further from my culinary abilities.

To say it simply, I can't cook.

When I left for college, I could make one hot meal. Kraft Mac & Cheese. This meal, though low in nutritional value, was a staple in my diet for years.

My friends and family seemed to think that once I was out on my own I would learn to cook. That didn't happen. I had a college roommate who loved cooking and hated cleaning. We made a deal. And with that deal, I was never hungry. That is, until he graduated.

I graduated and moved back in with my parents. My mom cooked some evenings. Other evenings we went out.

Then I moved out. On my own. Maybe then I'd finally venture into cooking. In the last six or so years, I have tried my hand at a few things - lasagna, dips for parties, lemon chicken. But never caught the cooking bug.

Then Dave moved in. Not only is Dave good at cooking, but he finds it relaxing. He makes dishes without measurements or recipes. He says he enjoys 'winging it.' Whereas i prefer the timetables and precise measurements of baking.

While I was taking wood shop and drafting in high school, Dave was taking foods class. I think this explains a lot.

So it was to great surprise that I came home from work last week and decided to make dinner. Now let's use the dinner term loosely here. I thought of pizza bagels. So I asked Siri (cause as you can now tell, I need help) and together, we made something that looked edible.

Maybe there is hope. Though I'm not ready just yet to say 2013 will be the year of cooking.

Refocus

Part of training is being honest with yourself.

Even the most disciplined person can fall off the wagon. Or, at least partially.

I had a great marathon this year. There were times in training this year where I was beginning to feel burnt out. I've focused on running as the main form of training for about 7 years now. That's a lot of time. A few injury periods may have put me on the bike or in the pool for awhile, but shortly after the all clear came from the doctor, I've been back at it.

So I decided to dial down the running focus on training. Some parts of that process were quite easy. Like the not running part. Some parts were difficult. Like attempting to adjust the food intake and missing out on some mild late fall days to run.

I'd read a few articles on changing up training in the winter. It seemed great in theory. Truthfully, it's been a slippery slope. So much so that it's now the end of December and I have not blogged once.

I have been running, but it's been less miles and less often. I've been very picky about when and where I've run. There are mornings where I've woken up, looked outside, and decided to not put on my running shoes. I have missed beautiful days to run by not setting a lunch date to do it.

I'm sharing this because I think it's important that I own up to my current state and refocus on my training for the F^3 Lake Half Marathon (in less than four weeks) and then on to a spring half marathon most likely.

Though The path I've been on over the last month hasn't been the training straight and arrow, I can say that I have enjoyed some of my shorter runs lately. I head out and don't worry about time or pace. I take the time to find good music.

Shortly after starting, I am happy I'm out there, running in the winter in Chicago. When I finish I feel accomplished and know I can get back on the right track.

So with all the New Years resolutions out there, I guess I'll add one to the pile - in 2013, I will fall back in love with running.