Run on Sentences: 5 April 2012

In which the author rambles about obsession and losing her Garmin in the river...

Oh, hello, blog. It’s been a long time. Sorry to neglect you. I was busy training for my latest marathon, getting into grad school and doing a bunch of things that I can’t even remember (like everything - save the run - that happened this week).

I’ve also been suffering from allergies. Running helped me get off my prescription for dog, cat and every-pollen-under-the-sun allergies, but NOTHING can save us from the very unpleasing sneezing and wheezing that is Spring 2012. I’ve managed to deal with the flowering trees (my kryptonite) better than I had originally thought, but yesterday morning I couldn’t stop itching on my 6 miles with 6 strides. By mile 2, I was scratching so much that it looked like I had been attacked by a colony of junkyard cats.  By mile 3, my face was swollen and covered with a disgusting concoction of mucus and tears.

Gorgeous visual, right?

After the turnaround on Harrisburg’s Market Street Bridge, even my watch band was causing disrupting itching. So, being the genius I am, I decided it was a great idea to loosen my watch band and scratch underneath of it. With sweaty, slippery hands. On a bridge. With wind. Genius.

I got the strap of my Forerunner 210 lose and dug my stubby, navy blue nails underneath and finally got a bit of relief...

And then it fell. It happened in slow motion. I shrieked. A cyclist passed me with a quizzical face. The Garmin fell and fell. The wind caught it and it bounced...

In those seconds, my entire running life flashed before me. All of my running memories would be lost to Davy Jones’ locker! Don’t I hate my Garmin? Don’t I threaten to throw it in the river on mornings when it takes 10 minutes to sync? What about those fantasies of a running chip implanted in my brain to measure my stats? But how would I measure splits? How would I know my distances? How would I remember to put right in front of left? Would I still be a runner? Will my existence as a human be validated without statistics of every single step? HOW WOULD I GO ON WITHOUT MY GARMIN?

Mercifully, it stopped about an inch and a half short of being a swimming watch. I bent down, shaking, and attempted to steady my hand to put it back on my wrist. This time, I put it a bit looser to leave room for scratching space. It took about a quarter mile before my palpitations stopped.

I had a revelation in the wake of almost losing that terrible, wonderful piece of rubber and computer:  I’m obsessed with stats, but I hate them. I resent that since I missed Boston by just over a minute and a half, I’ve been engrossed with every split, trying to get faster and faster. I don’t always live and die by my times, but numbers push me to work harder and harder at it. 95 seconds is all I need and each well-documented (if not undependable) split I clock puts me a bit closer to Beantown.

I know I’m not alone in this sentiment. We’re all inextricably tied to our watches. It’s a sense of pride when it goes well. It’s a motivating sense of shame when it goes poorly. It’s probably a pretty terrible vice in the scheme of running... but in the scheme of life, I guess it’s not so bad.

And hey, at least I’m not one of those obnoxious Pittsburgh Pirates fans who paints their nails yellow for opening day... oh wait... LET’S GO BUCS!

Run on Sentences: 31 December 2011

On resolutions and races - or - in which the New Year's Baby author again falls into the trap of making resolutions...

According to my Garmin Training Center App (which logs each and every mile run wearing your Garmin), I’ve run over 1200 miles this year. Actually, that’s false. The treadmill and watch-free miles aren’t on there. On the road today, I figured that it’s likely closer to 1600. It seems crazy as a bulk sum, but during a run it never seams like it’s a tremendous undertaking (with the exception of marathons and the two 22 milers on the treadmill).

Since my Garmin reset to register 2011 runs, I have been on the receiving end of so many blessings. I stayed healthy enough to run some great races. I stayed strong enough to cross the finish line when it would have been so easy to quit. I stayed hopeful enough to push through on those days when the miles would never end.

In a year that’s felt like it’s had some especially prevalent downs, running has been the one constant that has helped me reflect, regroup and reinvigorate. I made it a point this year to be sure to remember that whatever happens in a given day, nothing will be as fulfilling and difficult as that last long run or that last tough speed workout. For the most part, it’s worked. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

If I’m honest, I’m waiting with bated breath until the year changes and the world seems anew. I crave that blessed point at midnight when all of the unfortunate occurrences that plague us officially take place in the previous year and there’s a real chance to take another crack at life.

At 12:00:01 on January 1, 2012, I will officially be in my mid-late 20s. In my late teens to early 20s, I’ve had some incredible experiences. I’ve lived and worked abroad, gotten a top-notch education, married my best friend, ran a winning campaign, finished 3 marathons... The blessings really do abound. But at 26, it’s time to get real about long-term goals and how I achieve them. Life is so unfulfilled when things “just happen” to me. It’s terrifying not to be in control of things, so in 2012, I pledge to regain that it.

In the meantime, I have some planning to do. I need to figure out how to make every day extraordinary. This starts by establishing some realistic, tangible goals to give each day purpose. Resolutions, if you will. Here it goes...

1. Qualify for the Boston Marathon

This is a big one. The biggest. Since I set my mind to going 26.2 the first time, this has always been what gets me through the doldrums that are long runs. It sounds lame, but I choke up thinking about that moment when I cross the line and realize that I’ve achieved that 3:30:00 or better. I came so painfully close in Philly this year. Just 95 seconds (that’s a 3:36:26 for those playing along at home). Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally proud of that time. It’s a 20+ minute P(ersonal)R(ecord), but the Boston Athletic Association doesn’t care. I had debilitating cramping over the last four miles and when my legs gave out and I took a spill in the chutes, I saw that minute and a half whiz by. Through off-season maintenance, improved nutrition and smarter training - combined with the right race - I hope to finally feel what it’s like to have made it.
I’d be lying if I said this was a sure shot - I’ve made that mistake before. I said in the spring that this would be the year I got my first BQ. I realized early on in training that I’d show a new level of foolishness and cavalier if I honestly thought that I’d easily BQ. In the UPMC Shadyside ER I learned that any race could go fanasticly wrong at any time. I thought for sure during the first half of the Pittsburgh Marathon that all would go well. And then the weather changed, I couldn’t get water fast enough, I overheated and got carted away at mile 17. That’ll teach anyone to show absolute reverence to the marathon. But if on that one day next year before the cutoff date, things go right and those 95 seconds are spent celebrating, I’ll be the among the most grateful runners to cross the line.

2. Run a sub-20-minute 5k race

Goals 1 and 2 really coincide, but yikes, this one might be tough. Speed training begets endurance and endurance begets being able to sustain speeds for a longer time. Strides, 5-k goal pace mile repeats, tempo runs, and a sweet flat course will be the key to this.  

This year, my best was a 21:37 on a course with about 800m of nasty uphill. I gave it everything I had and was the second overall woman. The first woman finisher was over 40 and went to the Olympic trials either last time or the time before. She was incredible and my inspiration for this.

Also, finding a race in a season other than summer would be smart...

3. Write more

I have this neat thing called a blog. It’s doing no good sitting there without new content. I must get into the habit of putting things in it. Writing and running have been some of the biggest constants in recent years. If I’m to continue to hone this craft, I need to put meaningful, honest pieces in this space...even if nobody cares enough about my life and my running to read it. The process of writing something for public consumption is tremendous for creativity. Heck, I even bought myself a nifty idea book. I really have no excuse.


My old pastor used to say that none of us knows what our days will hold. For some of us, there will be great triumph; for others the sadness of defeat. He was completely right. I may not fully accomplish these or another goal that I set for myself this year. But I learned ever so fully this year that it’s the work that we do leading up to the race that matters just as much - if not more - than what our chip time reads out.

May you and yours be blessed with the triumph that comes from constantly working to live more simply and better. And if you’re like me and still believe in resolutions, I hope a year from now you can look back and feel at least some sense of satisfaction in the ever-evolving goals of life.