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.