[Most Disliked] Yoga Poses

I started this post awhile ago after one particularly challenging yoga practice. I tried to use Siri to transcribe my wandering thoughts. As you may have guessed, she wasn't much help.

So let's semi-restart this post with some overlaying thoughts I was able to get from Siri -

Some days you're on. And others you aren't.

Most days I can stay optimistic. The glass is half full. Life is good. But yesterday wasn't one of them - at least, not at the yoga studio. Nothing seemed to be going right last night.

To go along with last night's frustration, I was reminded of a post idea I'd thought of last week: My top disliked yoga poses.

SIDE PLANK
I strongly dislike his side plank. I suppose it really isn't that hard, but it's something about the hip positioning drives me mad. Photo from yogaoutlet.com




FLYING PIGEON (i.e. The close nose break position)
Then there is more challenging poses like flying pigeon. I'm starting to get the hang of making the connection between the folded "shelf" leg and the triceps, but flying the opposite leg is going to take some time. Oh, and there's the underlying fear of face planting...again. Photo from artistathlete.com




VERTICAL/STANDING SPLITS
Vertical splits but will probably never be my friend. It seems to irritate my hips more than any other position, even though we do it every class. Photo from mindbodygreen.com




CROUCHING TIGER
Crouching Tiger looks simple enough. That is, until your hamstrings and calves tell you differently. One side is reasonably easier to balance than the other. Why is that? Can't find a photo. Need to take one I guess..

DRAGONFLY
Dragonfly. Here's an arm balance I've been drying to get since starting at The Lab. I can manage to balance with my left foot hugged on the back of my left tricep, but no luck what so ever on the right. Again, it's amazing the stark differences. Photo from yogaposeweekly.com




LOLASANAS
Over time, I'm making some progress, but still a long way to go. I want to say this pose is to a tall person's disadvantage, but then again, my arms are longer too, right? Photo from yogajournal.com

SPLITS
Um yeah, splits... Photo from yogaglo.com




TWISTED INTERLOCK PREP
Finally starting to get this, but there's a lot of mental prep work involved in order to keep the balance - reminding myself to tighten my core, slow down my breath, focus on something on the wall/ceiling. Photo from forrestyoga.com




HEADSTAND
There's no way around it, I have so much work to do before this one's going to be halfway good. It's one thing to get into a headstand, but another to have good headstand form. Proper form is to have barely any weight in the head. Photo from blog.lululemon.com





MONKEY JUMP
An entry or exit method where the feet start or end in a wider-than-hips stance to get into forearm balance or handstand. I think this one can go into flying pigeon's "please don't let me break my nose" category. Need a photo here too. Don't think I'll be posting one any time soon of me doing it though...

A Good Run

Chicago's had a long, brutal winter. Some may argue we're still in winter as snowflakes flew in some suburbs earlier today.

Normally, spring is an open invitation to hit the pavement quite often - at lunch, before work or in the evening as the days get longer. But this year is different. Between the cooler than average temperatures and my new found joy of inversions and arm balances at The Lab, it's been easy to stay out of my running shoes.

I'd be lying to say it hasn't been a struggle some days to get out there. When you run less, your body is less conditioned for the activity, which in my case has lead to a load of crappy runs. Slow, labored runs. I find myself thinking:

Is this how it feels to start over? It must be. Feels like I never ran. Ever. And that person that ran two marathons last year...If you see her, can you remind her she needs to get my body back into shape? And by the way, where's this "muscle memory" I hear so much about? I used to enjoy doing this, right?

Yesterday I went on a late lunch hour run. I stood outside my office building waiting for my Garmin to locate satellites.  I'll admit, I can be an inpatient person, and the Garmin does test that. As it cycled through it's 4th attempt to find satellites, I'd come to realize how cool it was outside and regretted my outfit choice of a long sleeved shirt and shorts. Maybe I should just go back inside, I thought. This just wasn't meant to be.

But dammit, I was already outside. I'd worked past 95% of the obstacles that keep me from getting out on a run. Now I just had to move - literally.

I started pretty slow as in recent weeks I've found myself talking a few walk breaks mid run. As I warmed up, I felt pretty good. But I didn't want to get too excited too early. I did want to run for four miles. I headed south down to the Shedd Aquarium where I filled up my water bottle and adjusted my playlist.

On the way back, things started to connect. I felt good. Nothing was aching. I wasn't out of breath. I wasn't too hot. I had great music and plenty of water.

As I got back to work, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Ok, I can still run. Let's chalk today's effort up as a success and keep building on it.

After all, Ragnar Relay is just a few weeks away and I have three legs to run, not to mention many other races this summer and fall.

26 Letters of Gratitude

A year and a half ago, I found myself counting down the weeks until Chicago Marathon 2012.

As the race quickly approached, I had an odd, empty feeling I was trying to figure out. Why did I feel so different this time around from other races? I realized I wasn't focused on a purpose for the race. A purpose outside myself.

For years, I have fundraised for Salute, Inc. Salute is an Illinois based non-for-profit founded by an Arlington Heights Naval Reservist and his wife. The company was founded after their family experienced some hardships after being called to duty following 9/11. Salute's goal is to raise funds to support military members and families in need. This is a cause that hits close to home and one that I think about often in training and race day.

With just a few weeks to go to race day, I decided to embark on a new project. One in which I'd thought about at a distance for some time.

Back in 2000, I interned over the summer for an integrated communications company. Our media buyer ran her first marathon a few months after I returned to school. When I talked to her post race, she explained her experience. She mentioned an idea that stuck with me; she wrote down a list of 26 people and thought about one of them each mile of the race.

It was from that idea that I started in on a "26 Letters of Gratitude" project. I made a list of 26 people from all facets of my life; my parents, my brother, my uncles, cousins and friends, a former personal trainer and a coworker. I left the list on my desk and gathered up stationary and stamps from home.

Writing letters is something I've always done. My Dad's Mother wrote a lot of letters. I can picture her handwriting now. To this day, any time I catch a glimpse of it, I hear her British accent. I started writing letters back to her when I was young and continued it to other family members. My parents encouraged me to create cards and art projects to send for holidays instead of purchasing them from the store.

So, I kicked off the 26 Letters Gratitude project. When the mood struck me to write something to one of the people, I'd do it. Some letters were longer than others. Some happened quickly and others took time. I created an insert to put in with each letter explaining the project.

I'd drop a letter off in the mailbox as I left work each night. I remember smiling as I dropped the envelope in the box. I hoped the person receiving the letter enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Here's a video a friend recently shared with me. I think it ties with today's post and my former Being Grateful post as well:

Handstand-ing [and other small victories]

About a year and a half ago, I did my first adult handstand. It was the first handstand I'd done in 20 or so years. I talked about that experience here.

Nearly a year and a half has gone by since then. In that time, I've had some successes and failures with learning the correct way to get into handstand in yoga practice. Whereas my previous handstand attempts stemmed from my young gymnastics experiences involving a body in motion, a yoga handstand is a still body using strength.

I've spent a good amount of time staring at the wall or floor, trying to reason with myself for handstand. I've done this before. What is there to be scared of? Even still, my mind races and I psych myself out in the kick up process. A few minutes later, a teacher would come by and say some encouraging things. Then suddenly I could muster the strength and courage to kick up. There's one teacher at The Lab who has given a lot of pointers in the last few months. She seems focused on my handstand success. I knew I needed to be too. So I set a goal and told her about it - I would kick up into a handstand by June 1st. Last night, the cards came together and I did it.

 photo borrowed from leanncareyyoga.com

On Wednesday night, the class focused on splits with titibasina being one of the peak poses. Though I've had some success getting into the pose from standing, a teacher who was set up next to me encouraged me to try it from the floor. She was compassionate and reasoned with me that I had the strength to do it. After a few tries with shaky arms, I was able to get up.

photo borrowed from elementsyoga.ie

I love the small victories in yoga practice. First time figuring out a pose. Learning how to hold a pose. Refining the pose as you become stronger. It's really a testament that progress comes with time and patience.

But I'm not the only victorious yoga practitioner at The Lab. Each week, I watch my fellow yogis grow stronger, working themselves towards new challenges.

Two of them I know quite well. Last week was a great week for them both.

Sara managed her first unassisted scissors pose in class. She told me the story the next morning at work. She explained that the other members of the class watched as she held the pose. Great job, Sara. I knew you could do scissors!

Carmen stared her inversion fear down two Saturdays ago at The Lab. With help from The Lab's owner, she kicked up into her first ever handstand. Congrats, Carmen. It's #handstandparty time.

Being Grateful

I talk a lot about running (and sometimes yoga).

I share my experiences; my strengths, challenges, rewards and weaknesses.

What I haven't talked much about is the emotional side of training. More specifically, being grateful.

I think it's easy in today's day and age to get wrapped up in the negativity that can circle in social media. This weekend I found myself being grateful in two small instances, but they are ones that rewarded me ten fold in the following days.

I found myself at the The Lab on Saturday morning with a friend. The class was taught by the studio's owner. She's a yoga master and completely amazing.

As I walked out of class Saturday morning, paused for a moment and recognized how grateful I was. There's a lot of things to be grateful for, of course, but with yoga on the mind, I focused on it. I'm grateful to have found The Lab and had such an amazing, challenging and rewarding experience there. In the moment, I made a note that I should email The Lab's owner and tell her what the studio means to me.

I jumped in my car and headed up north to run errands. I parked my car and walked to the different businesses on Southport. The wind was a bit crisp as clouds moved in. I could use a warm vanilla latte, I thought. As I finished my errands, I decided that I could reward myself with a Starbucks vanilla latte if I stayed out of Athleta (where I no doubt would purchase some awesome clothes x10 the cost of a latte).

I walked in to Starbucks and pulled out my phone. The Starbucks app is a handy and dangerous piece of technology. However, after this nasty, never-ending winter, I have fallen more in love with vanilla lattes and thus, the need to build rewards through my Starbucks purchases. I placed my order and planned to hand over my phone to the barista so she could redeem my free drink credit. It was then that I noticed my credit had expired. I flipped over to payment screen and handed the phone to the barista instead.

The barista asked why I hadn't used the credit, so I mentioned it had expired so I'd just pay for it. She paused and handed my phone back. She said she "wanted me to have a great day" and that my drink was on her. I was surprised by her action and fumbled for some small bills to tip her. I only had twenties. I asked her if she could break a twenty so I could thank her for her nice gesture. She said that wasn't necessary, but to please enjoy my drink and my day.

As I walked back to my car, I was grateful for the nice Starbuck's barista. I wondered, does Starbucks know how nice and engaging she is? I should tell them.

When I arrived home, I practiced a few yoga poses and took some progress photos. I found myself still thinking about The Lab and that morning's Starbuck's barista. So I decided to do what I often do - write a letter.

First I emailed the owner of The Lab. I thanked her and her husband for creating the company. I explained how my stress related aches and pains had all but gone away and I ran two marathons last year injury free. I tried to convey my love for the studio and how it's something that's impacted my life in the last year. Thinking back to where I was when I started, I really have come a long way. I shared a photo I took that afternoon of an arm balance pose and pressed send on the email.

Then I emailed Starbuck's to tell them about their awesome barista at the Southport store.

As I closed down my computer, I was happy I had taken the moment to share how I felt. The Lab and the barista at Starbucks are awesome and they should know it.

Later that day, I received an email back from the owner of The Lab. She thanked me for my kind email. She said it really meant a lot to her and all the instructors to read something so encouraging. She then asked if she could use the photo I sent her on their growing Instagram page.

The following Monday, I heard back from Starbucks. They were happy to hear of my experience and sent along a free drink credit as a thank you for my feedback.

Being grateful is a reward within itself. But being able to share your gratefulness allows your emotion to fulfill others. That's an even larger, greater reward.

What if Everybody Ran?

Have you ever wondered what the world would be like if everybody ran? 

Truthfully, I hadn't. But the ad folks over at Mizuno had. 

I love infographics. Maybe it's the designer in me or the feeling that I'm somehow gaining more information by reading less. Regardless, this small ad I pulled off of Pinterest today has me wondering if all the information could be held true if everybody ran.

Ok, maybe suggesting everyone should run is too lofty of a goal. Some people can't run. Or they really hate running. But what if everyone who could run did? Just a mile a few times a week for starters. It wouldn't have to be fast. They'd just have to complete it. I think we would find members of the group who would find joy in the sport and would increase their mile to two or three. Maybe they would find it relieved stress or made their dog happy. 

And for everyone else. Maybe they really hate running, or, for one reason or another can't. That's ok. "Running" can be transformed into other activities (walking, swimming) to fit everyone's abilities. 

What if everyone's "running" did transform their lives (or their dogs)? 

What if it made our overall quality of life better - What if there were less trips to the hospital, less smoking, and less weight? 

Wouldn't that be pretty amazing?

15 Things You Should Know Before Dating a Marathoner

In the age of Buzzfeed and other like sites, there seems to be a survey or list for just about everything.

It seems fitting then that the Rock and Roll Marathon would put together a list of "Things You Should Know Before Dating a Marathoner."

The list is a good start, but I figured there's a few that deserve revising. I've added my comments in blue. What comments would you add?

1. Check your foot fetish at the door. Feet don’t look pretty after running 50+ km per week. (about 30 miles)  Not all feet are the same. Though we do talk about feet issues a lot (blisters, arch pain, toenails...) 
2. Back, leg and feet massages are expected at least twice a week to relieve tired, sore, and aching muscles.  I wouldn't turn one down, but asking for massages 2x a week seems a bit high maintenance when training lasts 18-20 weeks. Plus, I have a great massage therapist. 
3. Expect long naps on Sunday afternoons. Or for those who choose to get their long runs over on Saturday, Saturday afternoons.  
4. Don’t be surprised when you get a hot, sweaty, salty hugs and kisses. Probably not. 
5. Late nights and sleeping in on weekends doesn’t happen; getting up early on weekends to run is more important. Training doesn't have to ruin a fun night out - Long run Saturday morning, followed by a nap and a night out. 
6. There’s no such thing as a diet and eating carbs is a good thing. Eat just about everything in sight.
7. You’ll be expected to be at every race, holding signs and taking pictures along the race route and be at the finish line with warm clothes in hand. Gear check can hold my change of clothes. Spectating and signs are great for the marathon. Other races, not necessary.
8. Gift giving is easy – pedicures, running shorts, running shoes, massages, or even a foam roller will all impress. I already have one foam roller. More than enough.
9. You’ll be constantly asked to go for a run, even if you don’t run I might talk about running a lot, but I'm not going to force you do it.

10. There are some disgusting things that happen that aren’t always talked about. Toliet stories. Enough said.

11. Proposing at 32k (the wall aka almost 20 miles) during a marathon race could be the most romantic thing that could ever happen. (hint hint) To each their own. 

12. Pretend and show interest in topics that you know nothing about they can they talk about for hours, like running gels, hill training, or how great running on a cool morning with light rain on race day is. You may not know a lot now, but you'll learn more than you ever wanted to know. 

13. There will be a box or drawer full of race bibs, medals, maps and other miscellaneous race souvenirs. Well, yeah. Where else are you going to put them?

14. Sunday brunch will always happen after a long run. A brunch conversation helps get us through the Saturday morning long run. It's important to execute that discussion post run.

15. There is always a pile of spandex and technical shirts needing to be laundered. Spandex? What is this, 1991?

Find the link here

The Race That's Good For Life

Did you know there's a race that's good for life? Believe it or not, there is.

Where is this race you might ask? Well, it's out in Oak Park.

Oak Park is a place I often think of visiting but never seem to get to living and working on the lake. I spent time in undergrad learning of Oak Park through an extensive Frank Lloyd Wright study, but outside of that, Oak Park is a community relatively unknown.

The Race That's Good For Life 5K has been around for decades. It's a race that's won awards, including the Chicago Area Runner's Association's race of the year. 

It's been a good, long while since I'd run a 5K race. Six or seven years.

As we drove out to Oak Park Sunday morning, we took in the sights of old homes with big front yards and appreciated some of the finer things in suburban life - free and easy parking, low traffic, children riding bikes. It was on the drive that I realized I'd forgotten to look up my standing PR (though it's not much of one) for a 5k on athlinks.com.

We parked and headed in to Oak Park River Forest High School to grab our packets and meet up with friends. I had an opportunity to meet some representatives from Liberty Mutual Insurance who sponsored the CARA Circuit Runner promotion as well. Seeing the gathering in the high school made me realize and appreciate the smaller race set up - We parked two blocks away. Restrooms and indoor heat was plentiful. The race started at a reasonable time (9:10 for the women's race).

The Race That's Good for Life's format has the women's race first, followed by the men. It was a unique opportunity to watch part of the men's race after we finished.

Kim and I headed to the start line together. We talked as we waited for the race to start. In mid sentence, the gun went off. We commented on how we could hear the gun (unlike in a big race where you might be many blocks back). Within a few seconds, we had crossed the start line. I realized I hadn't set my Garmin to "locate satellites." I quickly thumbed over the buttons and hit start.

The route took runners down wide streets lined with houses. Some residents smiled and cheered us on from their driveways and front lawns. The sun was out and temperature was mild. Oh spring, there you are!

I looked down at my watch to see I hadn't started a new run, but rather was adding to my Shamrock Shuffle time. I tried to start a new lap or reset it.

Thoughts going through my head:

I really should learn this watch properly...What runner messes up their Garmin like this? There's only four buttons.

Oh well, we're at mile 2 already. Guess I can spend some time with my watch post race. 

I wonder how far I'm in two mile two now? Ah, the cross street is Augusta. The school is around Ontario. I'm thinking five blocks to go? But it might not be in a straight line...should have looked at course map.

Regardless it's less than ten minutes to run. Just go for it already and stop thinking about strategy since all systems are failing. 

We crested a small incline and saw the finish line ahead of us. Questions in my head answered.

I crossed the finish line and was handed a flower along with some post run nutrition. Nice touch!

I headed over to the car to grab a change of clothes before watching the men's race start. Following the end of the men's race, we met a bunch of our friends in the school cafeteria. We caught up for a minute on summer plans and racing before heading out to brunch.

By 10:30 we were brunching and drinking bloody marys.

Suburban racing is pretty good.

The Race that's Good for life is Great.

CARA Circuit Runner

If you're a runner in Chicago area, you've likely heard of the Chicago Area Runner Association. CARA is a non-for-profit organization devoted to expanding, motivating, supporting and celebrating the running community of Chicagoland.

I first heard of CARA when I began searching for 5Ks nearly ten years ago. The CARA website was a great resource of quality, community races. As my training journey evolved a few years later, I was reminded of CARA's marathon training program. Since 2008, I've handed over my summer Saturday mornings to the CARA marathon group at Montrose Harbor. It was in this group that I met some of my closest friends.

During the winter, CARA holds an awards banquet to recognize the previous year's milestones and shining stars. This past January was no different. As part of the banquet this year, all attendees were entered to win a great prize - Free entries to races in the 2014 CARA circuit. This Christmas-like gift was presented by Liberty Mutual Insurance.

A few weeks ago I received an email from CARA notifying me that I'd won the prize. I received the email while in a work meeting and couldn't help but get excited. I won! Awesome. And I didn't just win something random, but something I really wanted! Who doesn't love a free race entry (or a few)?

The only requirement is that I run at least seven races this season. It's a challenge I'm willing to take on (and hopefully succeed).

Now to make my selections and commit to training for spring and summer.

The Shamrock Shuffle (held last weekend) was the first race of the circuit.

The second race is coming up this weekend. Heading to Oak Park for The Race That's Good for Life!

Shamrock Shuffle 2014

If you're a runner in Chicago, you know of and have probably run the Shamrock Shuffle. 

It's the race that unofficially represents the "start" to racing season in Chicago. 

The Shamrock Shuffle is an 8K race that leads about 30,000 runners through the streets of downtown Chicago. For years, the first few miles of this race mirrored the Chicago Marathon (which is fitting, since the same organizers who put on the marathon also handle the shuffle). It's a large and very well run race. 

In 2005, I ran it for the first time with my friend Margo and Uncle Mark. Some things have remained the same in nine years, like the expo being held at Navy Pier (mighty convenient for some) and start line set up. 

Other things have changed, and I can say, definitely for the better. 

Some time ago, the race announced a wave start which introduced qualifying corrals. This helped the faster, more experienced runners be grouped together and removed from the slower, more casual runners. Overall, I think it created a better race experience for all. 

This year, the race announced a new course. The course no longer took a western jaunt out down Jackson. Instead, miles 3 and 4 of the race visited the financial district and River North before heading down Michigan Avenue into the South Loop. 

Margo and I started together in Corral F on Sunday. We couldn't have asked for better weather. 

I've waited in the start corral at the Shamrock Shuffle and experienced many emotions over the seven times I've run it. The first year, it was pure nerves. It was my first 8k race. Other years, when I maintained a strong winter training program, the Shuffle seemed like a piece of cake. 

On Sunday, it was a question mark. How would it go? I haven't been running much this winter season. Not like other years anyway. What type of performance would I be happy with? Keeping my Shamrock Shuffle PR in mind, I hoped I could get somewhere in that range. 

Parts of the race I felt great, while others I questioned how it is that I think I'll run a marathon again this year (especially when 5 miles seems, well, not easy as it should). In the end, I was happy to be out running on that beautiful spring day. It made me hopeful for summer in Chicago.

Guess it's time to get back on the roads. Hopefully the weather will cooperate. 

Race Confirmation

Last year was a year of luck.

I was able to register for two highly desired races before they closed - the Chicago Marathon and the Marine Corps Marathon.

Shortly after their 2013 close, both races announced that 2014 would be their first year of a lottery registration system.

So many questions surrounded the word "lottery." It's not a word that's ever been associated with Chicago's race. Then again, Chicago didn't used to be so big. Or so popular. I've heard stories from mid to late '90's participants who signed up for the race weeks before. It just goes to show you how the sport of marathoning has grown, and not to mention, how successfully the Chicago Marathon's management has worked to make it a truly premiere and world class race.

Earlier this year, the marathon announced a short list of guaranteed entry options alongside the much anticipated and all encompassing lottery.

Last week, those who met the parameters for one of the five guaranteed entry options - charity fundraising, legacy finisher, time qualifier, international tour partner or wheelchair athete - could register. Applicants at that time received an email following their submission letting them know their information would be reviewed. Confirmations would be emailed the following week.

A legacy finisher is someone who has completed five Chicago Marathons in the last ten years. I was lucky enough to have met the requirements and have confirmed my 2014 Chicago Marathon participation.

Wishing my friends and family the best of luck as they wait to hear lottery results.

To Run Again

Last Wednesday was the 50th day of 2014.

It also happened to be the first day of the year I ran outside.

It's strange to say that. I've ran through most recent winters, but not this last winter. This winter has been mighty cruel.

I crossed the finish line of the Marine Corps Marathon at the end of October. Following the completion of that race, I ran a handful of times before the cold set in. Then I stopped running... completely.

It wasn't just the cold that convinced me to hang up my shoes - I was done with running. Running wasn't very fun anymore. Running was something I was doing because I had commitments. I wasn't doing it for the joy of running. At least not anymore.

So a month went by, then two months, then three. In that time, little to no running happened. I didn't feel bad about it. It was nice to do a non-running exercise for awhile.

But last Wednesday was different. Spring peered out from behind the gray sky and over the ice covered lake. As the sun shined, the snow started melting. The lakefront path appeared and prompted me to pack my running shoes before heading out to work.

That afternoon I laced up my shoes for the first time in a long time. I took note of how many layers (and layers of neon colors at that) I was putting on and the gear I needed. This process that had been second nature for years I now found myself second guessing.

Running is so much different than yoga.

I started out slow on my normal route. I dodged puddles and enjoyed the sunshine. Though the run was far from effortless, it was nice to be out there again. Enjoying it.

A Tale of a Great Sandwich

A few summers ago, after consuming a particularly delicious sandwich from Whole Foods, I wrote a story about it. 

I decided it was a blog-worthy addition. 

Here it goes:

There once was a veggie sandwich at a fancy, North Shore Whole Foods. 

It was purchased and brought across the City of Chicago lines, where it sat overnight in a fridge. 'What will my destiny be?' asked the sandwich. 

"Certainly a sandwich of my size is destined for a rather large, hungry human." 

The sandwich rested overnight in the fridge, right where a Costco chicken carcass had previously sat.

Then the morning came and the fridge opened. The sandwich had it's first peak at it's probable eatter, and it was, a woman. The sandwich had only a brief look before being stuff into a Land's End lunch bag. 

The sandwich then felt a door close, walking, a bus, more walking, an elevator, and then...rest. The sandwich sat in the darkness of the lunch bag for a few hours.

Around 11:30 it happened. The bag was opened and the sandwich was pulled out of the bag. Now the sandwich got a proper look at the eatter. 

The sandwich chuckled, "This woman is no match for me! She will never be able to finish all of my deliciousness. She will talk a big game, but in the end, she will have to quit. mmmwhhawwww....!"

The sandwich was unwrapped and had a proper eye-to-eye with the woman. In true form and full confidence, the sandwich was ready for what lied ahead. 

The first bite was tiny.

"She's never going to make it!" said the sandwich

But they continued, and continued. 

Suddenly half the sandwich was gone. The woman set the sandwich down. 

"Ah ha! I knew it." said the sandwich

After a short break and email check, the woman picked up the half-a-sandwich. This time the look on her face was more serious. The sandwich noticed a marathon training schedule close by.

"Oh no, she's one of those." he said in one of his last breaths 

It was then that the sandwich knew - he was a goner.

The End.

A Year of Forearm Balancing

Last winter, after Sara and I were a few classes into The Lab, I heard one of the instructors use the phrase, "That's a (x) year pose."

My impatient mind took note at what the measure was. Not hours, nor days or even months. Years.

Though most of the poses ranged from challenging to impossible at that time, the "year pose" statement was a reminder that yoga wasn't about to come easy.

Back then, I don't know that I'd given enough thought to my practice to know if I would still be in a yoga routine for a year. It was, after all, winter. Soon enough spring would come and I'd be outside doing what I really loved - running.

In comes forearm balance:

Borrowed from backonpointe.tumblr.com on Pinterest

How many times had I done forearm balance before coming to The Lab? Zero. How many times I have done it since? Hundreds. Dozens of attempts in just about every class I've taken there.

My first forearm balance was more of an imbalanced train wreck of bad headstand. In other words, I had no idea how to even approach the pose.

Over time, I would build strength, stretch out my legs and learn the correct position of the hips. I would spend dozens of classes kicking with too little effort to get a leg up. I would watch as others kicked up effortlessly while I waited for instructor help.

Back then, a year seemed like an awfully long time.

When running season wrapped up in October, I changed up my yoga routine. Instead of coming just once a week, I would try twice a week. Maybe even back to back days. I would challenge myself each practice and I'd be sore afterwards, but I knew I was getting stronger.

As the holidays closed in, I decided to try for three classes a week. I was running next to never by then, so I had exercise time to commit. Three days turned into three days in a row. In the last few months of increased practices, some poses have started to come together. Poses I never thought I would be able to do (using that phrase lightly as I have a long way to go to mastery), like 8 Angle pose, Dragonfly and Firefly.

Regardless of how challenging the class was, a class at The Lab always ends with an inversion. So whether I was successful or not that day, forearm balance was staring me down at the end. I used to dread it. I would be so sweaty and exhausted at the end of a class that I didn't think I could muster the strength to do it. Over time, my body would show me that it had acclimated to my new form of training. Suddenly I didn't mind forearm balance.

At the beginning of Febraury (which I'm guessing was week 51 or 52 at The Lab), I've finally started to kick up into forearm balance without touching the wall. Proper positioning in the kick up. Victory! Balancing for a few seconds. Double victory!

A year. Yep, a year sounds just about right.

Legacy Finishers

Yesterday morning, the Chicago Marathon made an announcement. They laid out the rules and timeline for what will be the first official year of a lottery system. Lotteries are not uncommon in marathoning, especially for other World Marathon Majors like New York and London. The Majors consists of six races (Boston, Berlin, Chicago, London, New York and Toyko) which are arguably some of the best and most sought after races in the world.

After last year's registration site hiccup (as in, so many people were trying to get into the race on opening day that it crashed active.com's servers), rumors have swirled that 2014 would be Chicago's first true lottery.

I was lucky enough to get in to both Chicago and Marine Corps during their registration debacles last year. Some of my friends and family members were able to get in at a later date as registration reopened or they decided to fundraise for a charity to gain entry.

This year, I've been waiting as so many others have to hear the news. What would the guidelines be? Yesterday morning I received a text from Sara telling me about the Legacy Finisher option. I'd never heard of such a thing. What does that mean? I searched for the term on my iPhone read this:

 

After months of dodging thoughts about my 2014 racing plan, today a door may have opened. Based on the prerequisites, I'll qualify as a Legacy Finisher. Which begs to answer the question, "How could I not run Chicago this year?" I'm happy to finally be thinking about racing again. I've taken a long break from any type of formal training program and a short hiatus from much running at all. With the winter rearing it's ugly head, I've been quite content not running.

Yesterday's news made me think of sunshine, shorts and early morning training runs along the lakefront. Of my mile trek down Sheridan where I wave to my neighbor Glen and constantly update my Playlists to get me through the hours of training each week. Of post long run trips to McDonald's for that damn fountain Coke. Of the friends I've made training and the places we've traveled in the name of racing. It reminded me of my summertime routine for the last 6 years.
Did I honestly think I wasn't going to run a marathon this year? Until yesterday, I might have said yes.

Starting a New Journey

Last year, I embarked on a new fitness journey. Little did I know when I started taking classes at The Lab that it would become a place I'd relearn anything I thought I knew about yoga. As I posted recently on The Lab's Facebook page, "The Lab is a life changer."

Yoga, you know...it's that thing that anyone can do. It's just simple stretching and relaxing, right? Wrong. The Lab is not your mother's yoga. Or at least, not what I knew of yoga.

I've taken yoga on and off over the last ten or so years, mainly with the goal in mind of supplementing running. Running was always #1. Yoga was a vehicle to fend off injury. Or something to do when injured. I never thought of yoga as being hard.

But oh, The Lab has taught me so much. It's reminded me to check my confidence at the door because yoga practice is something I have a LONG way to go on. Even now after a year of taking classes on and off at The Lab I say that. Though yoga practice isn't supposed to be about comparing yourself to others, I'm constantly learning from others. And so, seeing this on Pinterest reminded me of some of my practices. Set the bar low and start with little victories.

 

As I've worked through my weeks and months as a Level 1 (or barely Level 1) at the Lab, I've reminded myself that I wasn't always good at distance running either. Building myself up to be a distance runner took time (like years). I had a lot of set backs along the way, some of which were easy to recall:

I ran in shoes from Kohl's and got shin splints. 

I couldn't get past a mile and a half on the treadmill without dogging out. 

I couldn't acclimate to the heat. Or the cold.

I walked when I should have been running.

I couldn't talk while running. 

I couldn't run without music. 

I couldn't get over the fear that I would finish last in a race. 

I chaffed. 

I became injured while training for the Soldier Field 10 and couldn't run the race. 

I became injured again while training for a half marathon. 

I thought I should just give up after trying for a few years to be a distance runner. -- I'll just run 5 and 10K's, I can manage that.

I got runner's knee.

I irritated my IT band.

I didn't finish a long run.

I sprained my ankle.

But in the end, the end being the accomplishment of my first half marathon, I had erased some of the doubt. It might not have had pretty form and speed, but I finished. And that's how it starts. So I hope I can put my doubtful mind at ease as I continue to see small gains in yoga with the reminder that the master was once the student at just about anything.

 

To Fly a Pigeon

I don't know many people who like pigeons. Especially not in Chicago. My friend Bill once referred to them as "flying rats," a term I took a liking to immediately. All this talk of flying and pigeons brings me to what might be my most feared yoga pose to date;  Eka Pada Galavasana or Flying Pigeon pose. 

This pose tops the list due to an encounter I had with it last spring. At the time, we were setting up the with a block to become familiar with the proper positioning. As I connected my folded leg with my triceps, I attempted to lean my weight forward to get my head out over my arms. 

 

Then my shelved leg slipped and I went down. I heard a unique crunching noise as my nose made contact with the wood floor. As I pressed up off the mat with my hands, I wasn't sure what to expect. Would there be blood? Did I dislocate my nose? 

I saw spots as I opened my eyes. Who knew you could fall so hard from 14" off the ground? Well, now I knew.

 

Flying Pigeon isn't a pose I'd ever encountered before, so I hoped that I might not run into it for some time. We were not off to a great start together. But shortly thereafter, over at The Lab, Flying Pigeon would make an appearance. Again and again. 

I can't say that I've come to terms with it completely, but with each practice, I'm taking steps to get a bit closer to something like this photo (and hopefully nose injury free).

Here's a short video of how to get into Flying Pigeon:

Finding Time

Oh time...why does the mere thought of saying the word out loud launch me into an overplayed Hootie and the Blowfish song? Since we're already there - as the song says - time, you ain't no friend of mine. (And for the record, Darius Rucker, I really do prefer you as a country artist!)

I'm someone who hates to miss an opportunity, so almost to a fault. I rarely say no. I want to squeeze everything possible into my day, week and month. I don't want to miss anything if that's an option. I believe in getting up early and beating the crowds to a great breakfast spot. To be the first to arrive and the last to leave a theme park. To rise before the sun to run, even if I was out late last night.

I recently saw this graphic on Pinterest and thought it fit my "Burn the candle at both ends" take on life rather well:

Whether you're good or below average creating time, we give preference to our goals. 

Yes, it does take time to train for a marathon. Heck, it takes time to work out period. Whether we're talking a few hours a week or 15, that time can be found regardless of profession, marital status or age. 

Sometimes when I'm at a gathering with some of my running friends, it's interesting to me to think of how different we are. Yet we all have a common fitness goal. We decided that we would run a marathon that year (or a few half marathons, a tri, an ultra, or maybe an Ironman), and we're doing it. No or not possible is not an option, and so, we find time.

Here's to New Year's goals and keeping to them. Welcome, 2014.

Marathon Maniac

Once you've run a few races, you've undoubtedly seen the bright yellow singlets signaling a member of an elite club - Marathon Maniacs.

In my life, I've gotten to know two maniacs (and they just so happen to know each other). 

My friend George recently completed his quest to run a marathon in every state. You might wonder (as I had): "How can someone do that and work?"  Here's where the maniac mentality really comes in to play; George systematically plotted his 50 state journey, sometimes tackling two races in a weekend. I've read Facebook posts over the last year that went something like this - he flew to Wyoming and ran a marathon on Saturday. On Saturday afternoon, he got in a car and drove to South Dokota to run a marathon there the next day. Following Sunday's race, he flew home. 

To close out his roundabout of states, he ran five marathons in five days this summer while raising money for a Greek American charity. 

George is a running machine. A true maniac at a completely different level. As George would say "I Love Running and Running Loves Me."

One of my coworkers used to work with George. She's also completed a marathon in each state. Among other accomplishments, she has run every day for the last few years. Every day. I can't even fathom that. I wonder how many pairs of shoes she goes through in a year...I digress. 

Following the Marine Corps Marathon, I received an email from another co-worker, our Ironman General Counsel. He takes is training pretty seriously and is quite fast, and so, I blush whenever I'm grouped in the same category as him in conversations around the water cooler. Truthfully, he's at a complete different level than me. Maybe one I can aspire to be at if I only didn't love chocolate and beer so much. Then again, that's what's makes this all for fun, right?

His email was brief, but went something like this:

Congrats on your Marine Corps Marathon finish. You've completed two marathons in less than 16 days. That makes you a Marathon Maniac.

Really? I'm a Marathon Maniac? I'm not plotting to run races back to back or in multiple states. Is he sure? Siri, what's the most basic definition of a Marathon Maniac?

BRONZE LEVEL

2 Marathons within a 16 day time frame.
3 Marathons within a 90 day time frame.


And there we have it.  Who knew Jeff and I would accomplish such a feat last year? Actually, this is Jeff's second year running two marathons in 14 days, so it's safe to say he's a two-time Maniac.

http://www.marathonmaniacs.com/are-you-a-marathon-maniac/maniac-criteria

2013: Run. Yoga. Love.

Do you ever find yourself looking back at the end of a year and asking yourself, "What was 20___ the year of?" 

I'm not much on New Year's resolutions, so I can't say I started this year off with goals in mind. Life happens and plans evolve, and with it (I'm happy to say) came two proud accomplishments of 2013. 

Marathoning

I started 2013 knowing that I would keep my marathon streak alive and run the Chicago Marathon for the sixth year in a row.  But due to  a combination of luck, chance and some healthy peer pressure from Jeff, I found myself early in 2013 registered for two marathons two weeks apart. 

It was exciting and also scary to have a new twist on summer marathon training. I found myself from time to time getting wrapped up in the physical questions of how to properly prepare myself for such a feat. Truthfully, what I should have tried to prepare myself for was the level of raw emotion I'd feel throughout my nearly five hour journey at the Marine Corps Marathon. Even to this day, I fight to explain how moving that experience was. I thought very little during that experience about my physical state. Instead, I thought an awful lot about the cause. The faces. The very young faces of our military. The volunteerism for the cause. And in a short period of time, my thoughts became very personal as I thought of my brother. 

By early afternoon of October 27th, my 34th birthday, I'd completed my second marathon in two weeks. As the Marine Corps Marathon organizers would say, mission accomplished.

Yoga

Sara and I started the year continuing our yoga studio journey throughout the city. That is, until February when I was introduced to The Lab. Sara warned me that The Lab was a yoga experience like no other. Shortly after entering the studio for our first class, I saw exactly what she meant. This place was going to push and challenge me to do things I would never think were possible this year - arm balances, inversions, twists and back bends. As each month has passed, I've experienced small victories in poses which have lead me from my start at level [insert a very low number] to level [insert a higher number to show progress]. For that, I have to thank the instructors and owner of The Lab, as well as Sara for the introduction.

My approach to yoga used to be that it was an important supplement to running, and therefore, I had to do it. Over the last two months, I've noticed that thinking has changed. Yoga is now it's own important thing. Whereas I used to plan my schedule around running, I now find myself making time for yoga - classes after work or even practicing poses in my living room.

So, 2013, you've been a pretty good year. Thanks.