There is a debate out there in the running world as to whether or not it is better to listen to music while you run. Some people need the beats to keep them going. Others actually feel that the music can make you go faster. I even found an app in the App Store that suggests a play list based on the speed you are hoping to run. And there are the group of runners that believe that you cannot achieve "flow" while listening to music. Me? I'm a waffler. I do not take a firm stance either way. I have run with and without music and I've had good runs (and bad runs) while doing both. I usually make the decision whether or not to turn on my play list at the last minute, or even after a mile or two. As a general rule I try to do my long runs without because most races strongly discourage or prohibit running with headphones. Today was a super cold and windy day so I decided to use the beats to keep me moving. Last weekend I had the privilege of running with my brother, Mark. It was by far the best run I've had during this training program. It's because of this I feel compelled to make a confession about my own play list.
I realize I give my brother a hard time about a lot of things. His shoes are dorky, his high school summer job was absolutely adorable, etc. But last weekend I did something so wrong I must make amends. While we were running and even after our run I teased Mark relentlessly for his play list. Here's the truth. Even though I laughed that we ran (and danced) to Party in the USA I must admit that I can counter him with MMMBop. I might even say that The Power of Love is a better choice than John Denver's Thank God I'm a Country Boy (or Country Girl...which is how I like to sing it).
I try to hide behind the likes of TV on the Radio and The Black Keys but the truth is I'm a dork too. But the great thing is I'm totally ok with this fact. As my friend Alliree says "Dorks are cool!" I'm willing to bet that some of my readers out there are dorks too. I can't imagine a hipster ever having any interest in my blog. The running play list is about getting you moving and keeping you moving. Hanson accomplishes that goals for me and if Miley Cyrus does it for Mark than that is awesome. So I'm wondering what's on your play list? What is your secret guilty pleasure that gets your butt moving? What is your MMMBop? I might be tempted to add it to my play list.
I'm a dork and I love it.
And so is my little brother!
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Maniac #2794
Webster defines maniac as a person with an inordinate or ungovernable enthusiasm for something.
When I tell people that I am training for a marathon I sometimes get a surprised reaction. Some people just don't get it. They want to know why any sane person would want to run 26.2 miles in one day? I guess they might think us marathoners are a little crazy, maybe even maniacs when it comes to running. There are real maniacs out there, I'm not one of them.
To be a Marathon Maniac at a minimum (bronze level) you have to run two marathons in a 16 day period or three marathons in a 90 day period. There are ten levels of Maniacs though. The highest level, Titanium, requires the runner to run fifty-two Marathons or more within 365 days, or thirty Marathons in 30 US states, Countries, or Canadian Provinces (any combination) within 365 days, or twenty Countries within 365 days. I would say that the term maniac is fitting for these folks.
You will know a maniac by their singlet. It's yellow with red and black lettering and they wear them proudly during races. The next race you attend as a runner or supporter give the maniacs the credit they deserve. I usually like to yell "Hey Maniac! You rock!"
When my dad first got sick he was pretty down in the dumps. Just weeks before he had run two races in one weekend (a double in maniac terminology) and now he needed help getting out of bed. I wanted to send an email to the Marathon Maniacs community and let them know what was going on with him. I figured maybe some of his running friends could send him a get well e-mail or two to lift his spirits. The response we received was overwhelming. People that had never met him before sent cards, emails, gifts, medals and shirts. They offered to run a mile or a whole race in his honor. He received letters from runners in South Korea, Afghanistan and all over the US. While my dad was in the hospital I read his emails to him which always brightened his day. In the weeks that followed I would call him to ask how his chemo was going and he would share with me the letters and cards he received. The response from the Maniacs made me proud that my dad was a part of such an amazing group of people.
My brother Mark will qualify for the Marathon Maniacs after finishing the race in Canton, OH. I'm really excited for him, I know he has been working hard to get to this point. I can only imagine how emotional it will be for him. This is a race that our whole family plans to attend in my dad's honor, to qualify at that race with our whole family present will be awesome. I'm so proud of our Markie!
The whole family, especially my mom is hoping to meet some of the maniacs in person at the Canton Marathon. Maniacs are busy group of people as you may imagine. I remember when my dad was running races all the time he would plan them months in advance, so he also knew how to train for them. I hope little Ol' Canton will make their calendars.
My dad's Maniac number was 2794. I will wear that number proudly to honor him and all Marathon Maniacs in all the races I run for the rest of my life.
When I tell people that I am training for a marathon I sometimes get a surprised reaction. Some people just don't get it. They want to know why any sane person would want to run 26.2 miles in one day? I guess they might think us marathoners are a little crazy, maybe even maniacs when it comes to running. There are real maniacs out there, I'm not one of them.
To be a Marathon Maniac at a minimum (bronze level) you have to run two marathons in a 16 day period or three marathons in a 90 day period. There are ten levels of Maniacs though. The highest level, Titanium, requires the runner to run fifty-two Marathons or more within 365 days, or thirty Marathons in 30 US states, Countries, or Canadian Provinces (any combination) within 365 days, or twenty Countries within 365 days. I would say that the term maniac is fitting for these folks.
You will know a maniac by their singlet. It's yellow with red and black lettering and they wear them proudly during races. The next race you attend as a runner or supporter give the maniacs the credit they deserve. I usually like to yell "Hey Maniac! You rock!"
 |
10/3/10 - At the start line of the ME marathon, the second in my
dad's double that weekend. This was the last marathon he ran.
|
My brother Mark will qualify for the Marathon Maniacs after finishing the race in Canton, OH. I'm really excited for him, I know he has been working hard to get to this point. I can only imagine how emotional it will be for him. This is a race that our whole family plans to attend in my dad's honor, to qualify at that race with our whole family present will be awesome. I'm so proud of our Markie!
The whole family, especially my mom is hoping to meet some of the maniacs in person at the Canton Marathon. Maniacs are busy group of people as you may imagine. I remember when my dad was running races all the time he would plan them months in advance, so he also knew how to train for them. I hope little Ol' Canton will make their calendars.
My dad's Maniac number was 2794. I will wear that number proudly to honor him and all Marathon Maniacs in all the races I run for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
running in his footsteps
During long runs I repeat a cadence in my head to keep me motivated and moving. One of my favorites is "I am a marathoner and I love to run! In the rain or in the sun, up a hill or down a slope, running far-it gives me hope!". More frequently I just repeat "I am a marathoner and I love to run!" or "I am a mother and I love my son!” over and over on beat with my steps. The other day I created a new cadence unconsciously. It's not very catchy and is a little harder to keep to a beat but for some reason I began repeating a line to a song that I've had stuck in my head. It's not really even a whole line, just a few words. At first I didn't even notice I was doing it. But the other day I realized that I kept repeating "...this newly impassioned soooouuuul...” I knew right away they were the words of a Mumford & Sons song, but I couldn't remember the whole line, the context in which it was used or even the title of the song. After I realized what I was doing I started thinking about these words and why I felt the need to repeat these words while I ran.
While reflecting on these words I started to think about my dad. If I were to say that I have a newly impassioned soul I can pinpoint the moments that led me to it. In my father's last weeks the house was always full. He was surrounded by people that wanted to tell him one last time how much he meant to them and how much they loved him, or just simply sit and hold his hand. The day before he died all six of us kids and my mom were praying next to his bed. My dad was in and out of lucidity. When he would wake up he would always look at my mom and smile. My mom asked him if he wanted to say anything and he smiled and said “I love you” then gave her a kiss. She turned to us and asked us if we wanted to say anything to him. We promised to take care of my mom and each other. I told my dad that we will be his legacy. My brother finished my thought by adding that we will live our lives the way he taught us to. The next morning he died.
It's hard to describe the feelings I felt on the day of his memorial mass. I was sad. No, I was devastated by my father's death but until that day I hadn't had to face the reality of it. There were so many details to complete for the memorial and my brothers and sisters and I lost ourselves in these small tasks. I knew that the memorial would make it more real than it had been in the days before and I was terrified to face it. I remember arriving about thirty minutes early to the memorial. I avoided stopping to talk with anyone on my way to my seat in the front of the church. As I sat there, my right hand holding my husband's hand, my left holding my grandma's hand, I couldn't help but feel the anxiety growing. The silence in the church made my stomach turn. I didn't dare turn around for fear of seeing the empty seats. I was so mad at all the people that had loved my father so much while he was alive. Where were they when it came time to honor his memory? Sam must have felt the tension building in my grip on his hand. He leaned over and whispered "It's so full that people are lining up in the back by the doors." I felt myself exhale for the first time since I had stepped in the church.
After receiving my father’s friends and family members for over two hours I began to reflect on my own life. In fact, in the last three months I have reflected quite a bit on who I am and how I impact the people in my life and my community. What was the legacy that I would leave behind?
This is all is what led me to the phrase “newly impassioned soul”. I feel an obligation to live up to the legacy that my dad left behind but also to be a positive force in the lives of the ones I love and my community. To fulfill this obligation I've made a systemic change in my life. I've made the commitment to always love unconditionally and I've started donating my time. I am now volunteering at the American Cancer Society, Girls on the Run and I am taking a more active role in improving the lives of women and girls through the works of Soroptimists of Columbus and Franklin County. As you know, I've decided to take back the control of my health and be sweeter in my everyday interactions with others. I'm educating myself on the policies that affect my state, city and community and I've been staying in contact with our elected officials on these issues. Most of all, I'm grateful that I have the opportunity to stay home with my son and be able to take responsibility for his growth and development. I can only hope that he will grow up to be a genuinely good person with an impassioned soul. I guess in short I've decided to live fully, love passionately...and run far.
While reflecting on these words I started to think about my dad. If I were to say that I have a newly impassioned soul I can pinpoint the moments that led me to it. In my father's last weeks the house was always full. He was surrounded by people that wanted to tell him one last time how much he meant to them and how much they loved him, or just simply sit and hold his hand. The day before he died all six of us kids and my mom were praying next to his bed. My dad was in and out of lucidity. When he would wake up he would always look at my mom and smile. My mom asked him if he wanted to say anything and he smiled and said “I love you” then gave her a kiss. She turned to us and asked us if we wanted to say anything to him. We promised to take care of my mom and each other. I told my dad that we will be his legacy. My brother finished my thought by adding that we will live our lives the way he taught us to. The next morning he died.
It's hard to describe the feelings I felt on the day of his memorial mass. I was sad. No, I was devastated by my father's death but until that day I hadn't had to face the reality of it. There were so many details to complete for the memorial and my brothers and sisters and I lost ourselves in these small tasks. I knew that the memorial would make it more real than it had been in the days before and I was terrified to face it. I remember arriving about thirty minutes early to the memorial. I avoided stopping to talk with anyone on my way to my seat in the front of the church. As I sat there, my right hand holding my husband's hand, my left holding my grandma's hand, I couldn't help but feel the anxiety growing. The silence in the church made my stomach turn. I didn't dare turn around for fear of seeing the empty seats. I was so mad at all the people that had loved my father so much while he was alive. Where were they when it came time to honor his memory? Sam must have felt the tension building in my grip on his hand. He leaned over and whispered "It's so full that people are lining up in the back by the doors." I felt myself exhale for the first time since I had stepped in the church.
After receiving my father’s friends and family members for over two hours I began to reflect on my own life. In fact, in the last three months I have reflected quite a bit on who I am and how I impact the people in my life and my community. What was the legacy that I would leave behind?
This is all is what led me to the phrase “newly impassioned soul”. I feel an obligation to live up to the legacy that my dad left behind but also to be a positive force in the lives of the ones I love and my community. To fulfill this obligation I've made a systemic change in my life. I've made the commitment to always love unconditionally and I've started donating my time. I am now volunteering at the American Cancer Society, Girls on the Run and I am taking a more active role in improving the lives of women and girls through the works of Soroptimists of Columbus and Franklin County. As you know, I've decided to take back the control of my health and be sweeter in my everyday interactions with others. I'm educating myself on the policies that affect my state, city and community and I've been staying in contact with our elected officials on these issues. Most of all, I'm grateful that I have the opportunity to stay home with my son and be able to take responsibility for his growth and development. I can only hope that he will grow up to be a genuinely good person with an impassioned soul. I guess in short I've decided to live fully, love passionately...and run far.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
C town
My hometown is Canal Fulton, OH. It is an adorably quaint place that boasts great pizza shops and cute ice cream parlors all over town. I have some wonderful memories of Canal Fulton and I met some of the most amazing people in my life there. If you find yourself in Canal Fulton you may end up at the famous Ohio & Erie Canal. The town was obviously named for this small piece of history and us Canal Fultoners are pretty proud of it. My little brothers even worked on the St. Helena III (or IV I can't remember if III sank) and dressed with straw hats and cut off capris. Their attire was much like what I imagine Huck Finn would have worn. I'm telling you, this place is adorable.
Here's a short history lesson on canals if you are unfamiliar with them. Canals are man made and are about four feet deep. They were built to transport goods and passengers throughout the state. Along the canal is what is called a towpath where the horses pulled the canal boat. With the invention of trains there really wasn't a need for canal boats anymore. This is why when my brothers worked on the St. Helena they would shout "Death to the iron horse!" whenever they heard a train passing.
The people of Canal Fulton now use these paths for running, biking and walking. As kids we used to spend a lot of time playing on the towpath and the parks it connected. While we were training for Delaware, Sam and I ran it with my dad. It was just before Easter and the signs of spring were showing on the banks of the canal. It was a truly beautiful place to run. As we run in between the canal and the Tuscarawas River we were greeted with the sounds and sights of all types of wildlife. It was hot that day but it was nicely shaded and the surface was soft under our feet. I remember talking to Sam after the race about how that run was the turning point in our training. It really gave us a lot of momentum and strength to continue on. Even though the scernery was beautiful it was the support of our mentor that made the difference that day. Thanks dad!
My dad did much of his training on the towpath. He adopted the out and back approach to his runs. He would start in the middle, where he would leave his Gatorade, and run a mile out and back. Then he would grab a drink and head the other direction, out a mile and back a mile. This way he always knew a drink was only two miles away at the most. When I started training for the Delaware marathon he advised me to adopt a similar approach. I found two parks where I did the majority of my training, both had a one mile loop that I ran over and over and over and over... It wasn't as bad as you may think. I was able to do most of my training with my husband so I never really got bored with the parks.
Now that I am doing most of my training by myself the one mile loop is starting to get to me. It started to get to the point that I was considering quitting my training. But then I got the little push I needed from my mom. She's really good at giving me a kick in the butt when I need it. She offered to let me use my dad's old fuel belt.
Now, I know that I've said in the past that all a runner needs to run is shoes and Vaseline or some sort of lube (seriously, the lube is sooo important when you are doing really long runs), but there are certainly things that make a runners life a lot easier like moisture wicking clothes, a running app on your iPhone, and let's not forget the fuel belt. A fuel belt is a belt you wear that has water bottles attached to it. It's kind of like a fanny pack on steroids. Of all the running gear you could buy it is by far the dorkiest. I remember when my dad first started using it. He used to crack jokes about how nerdy he looked in it, but then he'd smile and put it on. Sure it's dorky but it totally rocks. I can run anywhere I want with this thing on. I did a seven mile run on Saturday and I didn't even know where I was going to run when I headed out. I ended up running downtown, along the river and back to Olde Towne and it was beautiful. I don't care how dorky I look I love the fuel belt and I don't care who knows it!!!
Here's a short history lesson on canals if you are unfamiliar with them. Canals are man made and are about four feet deep. They were built to transport goods and passengers throughout the state. Along the canal is what is called a towpath where the horses pulled the canal boat. With the invention of trains there really wasn't a need for canal boats anymore. This is why when my brothers worked on the St. Helena they would shout "Death to the iron horse!" whenever they heard a train passing.
The people of Canal Fulton now use these paths for running, biking and walking. As kids we used to spend a lot of time playing on the towpath and the parks it connected. While we were training for Delaware, Sam and I ran it with my dad. It was just before Easter and the signs of spring were showing on the banks of the canal. It was a truly beautiful place to run. As we run in between the canal and the Tuscarawas River we were greeted with the sounds and sights of all types of wildlife. It was hot that day but it was nicely shaded and the surface was soft under our feet. I remember talking to Sam after the race about how that run was the turning point in our training. It really gave us a lot of momentum and strength to continue on. Even though the scernery was beautiful it was the support of our mentor that made the difference that day. Thanks dad!
My dad did much of his training on the towpath. He adopted the out and back approach to his runs. He would start in the middle, where he would leave his Gatorade, and run a mile out and back. Then he would grab a drink and head the other direction, out a mile and back a mile. This way he always knew a drink was only two miles away at the most. When I started training for the Delaware marathon he advised me to adopt a similar approach. I found two parks where I did the majority of my training, both had a one mile loop that I ran over and over and over and over... It wasn't as bad as you may think. I was able to do most of my training with my husband so I never really got bored with the parks.
Now that I am doing most of my training by myself the one mile loop is starting to get to me. It started to get to the point that I was considering quitting my training. But then I got the little push I needed from my mom. She's really good at giving me a kick in the butt when I need it. She offered to let me use my dad's old fuel belt.
Now, I know that I've said in the past that all a runner needs to run is shoes and Vaseline or some sort of lube (seriously, the lube is sooo important when you are doing really long runs), but there are certainly things that make a runners life a lot easier like moisture wicking clothes, a running app on your iPhone, and let's not forget the fuel belt. A fuel belt is a belt you wear that has water bottles attached to it. It's kind of like a fanny pack on steroids. Of all the running gear you could buy it is by far the dorkiest. I remember when my dad first started using it. He used to crack jokes about how nerdy he looked in it, but then he'd smile and put it on. Sure it's dorky but it totally rocks. I can run anywhere I want with this thing on. I did a seven mile run on Saturday and I didn't even know where I was going to run when I headed out. I ended up running downtown, along the river and back to Olde Towne and it was beautiful. I don't care how dorky I look I love the fuel belt and I don't care who knows it!!!
You might be thinking to yourself that it's not fair of me to embrace the dorkiness of the fuel belt but berate my brother for his nerdy five finger foolishness shoes. Ehhh... Big sisters do a lot of unfair things to their little brothers.
 |
The St. Helena III. I can't guarantee that the guys in this photo are my brothers, but they definitely dressed just as adorable as the workers in this photo. I love the suspenders Markie! |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)