I have returned!

Hello!

There have been a bunch of times since my last post (was that REALLY almost 2.5 years ago?) that I thought about re-starting this blog, but I never did. But today, I read through all my old posts and I feel like I'm from the future coming back to tell my former self "You did it! You worked really freaking hard and you achieved goals you never thought possible for yourself!" I'll start off with a recap of the major events that happened in my running life since last time.

Actually first, to update my last post, my form still sucks. Sorry. It just does.

Ok here we go:

November 20, 2011. I ran my first marathon in Philadelphia in 4:08:47.

May 27, 2012. I ran my second marathon in Burlington, VT, in 3:55:32 and didn't walk a step.

January 13, 2013. I ran the Walt Disney World Marathon in 3:35:01, missing the open women's Boston Marathon qualifying standard by one second. Who the hell even does that?!

In fact, my achievement (or more accurately, lack thereof) was special enough to be the subject of this Eagle Tribune story. I was devastated and knew I had to try again. After all, I'd written down the goal of Boston in 2014 on a piece of paper and taped it to my mirror and I'd told everyone who'd listen (willingly or not) that I was going to do it. Then, this happened.

The day had started out very normal. We visited the finish line, had Sam Adams 26.2 beers, and met up with Sisu Project teammates while we watched the race from Kenmore Square.

That day, the need to get to Boston in 2014 became especially urgent.

Thankfully, my goal was realized and incredibly improbable dream came true on May 26, 2013, when I returned to the Vermont City Marathon and ran 3:28:42, 6:18 under the time I needed. I was going to Boston, and I made sure to shout it as loud as I could after I finished. Since I was so spent, I sounded like a dying sheep but I didn't care.

I promptly left Burlington that day to drive to Louisville, Kentucky, of all places. I had been chosen to participate in a paid research program at the University of Louisville for 10 weeks so I was off on a grand adventure. I ran 4 races while I was out there- a 10 miler in Bell Buckle, Tennessee (it's exactly what it sounds like) sponsored by RC Cola and Moon Pie, a 1:38:04 PR half marathon in Chicago, a 5K across the river in Indiana, and a 4 miler at Slugger Field.

The most important experience I had out there, though, was meeting some great friends through Fleet Feet Louisville. I've always been a shy person and they made me feel at home in a new place. I miss them a lot and plan to visit sometime next year.

My training over the summer was in preparation for the Dumbo Double Dare in late August in Disneyland, which was a 10K on the first day and half marathon the next. I had done an identical double back in March and set my 10K PR (41:57), my strongest, in the process. But the activities leading up to the Disneyland portion of the trip basically burned me out and I didn't run well. I was fortunate enough to win my age group in the 10K, but the half marathon was a disaster. I realized my body was giving me red flags around mile 6 and I had to abandon my plan. I finished in one piece, but barely. But I was in Disneyland so screw it! It was still a blast.

So what am I doing NOW? Well, I'm supposed to be training for another go at the Disney Marathon (and then that whole Boston Marathon thing in April). The fall has been rocky and I've lacked motivation, but I had a great 18 mile run a few weeks ago followed by a near-PR half marathon in 7 degree weather (I was seriously waiting for Dennis Quaid and Jake Gyllenhaal to pop up in the middle and warn me that I was about to freeze solid) the following week. There have been a lot of changes in my personal life lately that have made me do a lot of self-evaluation. In the next post, I'll talk about what my goals for next year are (SPOILER: they're NOT all running related!)

It don't mean a thing if you ain't got that swing

Doo wop doo wop...

Anyway, this post is about an issue that has haunted me since I first started running about 5 years ago. I've kind of put it on the back burner for a while, every so often making a feeble attempt to correct it. But after a string of recent race photos, there's no denying it.

My form sucks. A lot.

The main problem is my arms. They're supposed to be at 90 degrees and swing forward and backward, propelling you forward (duh, right?). But for some reason, I just can't do that. Here's a good example of what I'm dealing with:

Take the Lake 5k, Wakefield

This photo is from the Take the Lake 5k in Wakefield in July. It was taken on the finishing stretch, a section of the race where I usually try to polish my form so I can kick effectively. And this was my result. Yikes. Twisty.

I was showing my dad some photos from the Yankee Homecoming 10 miler on August 2nd and August 7th's Rock n Roll Providence Half Marathon and his first reaction was to comment on my form. He listed the three main problems that I already know about.

1. My arms cross over the center of my body. Big no-no.
2. I lean back a lot. When running, you're supposed to have a slight forward lean.
3. My posture is really tense. I hold my arms too high.

The following picture is the one he was looking at when he made those observations. I don't blame him, to tell you the truth. Granted I was approaching the final 150 meters or so of a 10 mile race and was scaling a slight hill, but still. Come on. Yay mixing metric and English measurements! <-- science nerd.

Yankee Homecoming 10M, Newburyport

Anyway, running form is a hot debate in the running community these days. Analysis of elites reveals that many have similar strides and run with "correct" form (except for anomalies like Paula Radcliffe). Having good form has many benefits. You expend less energy, you maintain proper mechanics, and most importantly, you look like a real runner. 

They say appearances aren't everything, but I think about the way I look running a lot. I don't have the body type of many talented runners (I'm not talking about just muscle-fat ratio). I don't have the chiseled legs or washboard abs. I don't know if I ever will, to be honest, no matter how much I run. But what I do know is that fixing my form will help me be faster.

Falmouth Road Race

Running is still mostly about having fun and achieving what I never thought possible. If, even a couple years ago, you'd told me I'd run 2+ half marathons in 2011, I'd have laughed at you. If you'd told me I'd join Sisu Project and feel at home, I'd have denied it. If you told me I'd train for even longer races...

But the thing is, now that I've done all those things, I want to know where else I can go. Could I someday be a real competitor if I work hard enough at it? Could I be an asset to my team? I feel like my form is holding me back. It only improves when I'm concentrating on nothing but holding my arms correctly, etc. It's really frustrating.

I promise the next post will be more positive/fun to read/not as self-pitying.

Rock n Roll Providence Half Marathon

Here, I'll start of the positivity. The picture to the left is actually not too terrible (although I'm still kind of twisty...)

Hot in the city

I've raced in all kinds of weather conditions. The Frozen Shamrock 3 miler in Haverhill on February 27th lived up to its name. Fast-forward to April 23rd at the Stonyfield Earth Day 5k in Londonderry, where it was sleeting and raining and I couldn't see three feet in front of my face. Then there was the monsoon rain that began as soon as the gun went off in this year's Spring Fever 5k in Newburyport on May 15th (this race was an anomaly in that I was 3 seconds off my 5k PR- set the day before at Evelyn's Run for the Roses). During the summer season, hot weather is to be expected. But the hottest run of my life thus far was actually a race- the 25th (and final) Sapienza Memorial 4 miler. (I think I'm trying to set a record for most links in one post.)

Anyway, the heat index for that Thursday the 21st was over 100 degrees. I hid in my room all day drinking large quantities of water and Gatorade, praying the temperature would drop by 6:45 when the race started. Well, it did, but it was still sweltering hot. Walking from the car to the school for number pick-up, I was already sweating through my brand new Sisu Project singlet. My dad and I had already discussed that I had to throw time goals out the window because of the heat, but I was still hoping I'd do well.

Andrew and I went through the first mile in around 7:30ish, and things went downhill from there...and uphill, literally. "There's a reason they call it 'HaverHILL'" joked one runner after the finish. But anyway, I could feel myself overheating early on. Having read Runner's World article about running in hot weather from the most recent issue, I was paranoid about what might happen if my temperature got too high. I always tend to sweat a lot and turn reddish during hard runs, but this was a totally different animal. If there was an indicator light on my forehead, it would've been flashing red. Danger danger danger!

At any rate, I had to slow waaaay down, not by choice. Andrew's original plan was to leave me around 2 miles, but seeing how awful I looked, he decided to stay with me. It was a good thing, too, because he probably would've hurt himself if he'd tried to go too fast. At one point, I almost dropped out of the race because I was seeing pictures in my head of me collapsing at the finish line and being attended to by EMTs. Not exactly motivational stuff. I've only dropped out of one race in my entire running career: my last high school track race, a 2 mile of which I ran the first 1200. But that was when I had an undiagnosed stress fracture and I was in agony. Instead of dropping out this time, I just told myself I had to get to the finish line. That would be enough of a victory for me.

The finish itself was downhill, but what goes down must first go up, in this case. I shuffled to the top of the hill and then focused on staying ahead of a lady who had been talking and walking earlier in the race. I managed something that resembled a finishing kick down the last straightaway. As I was finishing, a lady yelled out "What's your name? Are you from Haverhill?" Of course, she was probably a newspaper reporter, but I was in a mental state where at first I couldn't even remember what town I was from.

After I crossed the line, I made a beeline for (aka staggered in the general direction of) the Gatorade and pressed the cold bottle against the back of my neck in a feeble attempt to cool down. Once I was done running, my temperature gradually went back to normal (the ice cream afterwards really did the trick) but I was exhausted for the remainder of the evening. The hot temperature affected everyone, even the elites: Nate Jenkins, the race winner, ran at 5:19 pace. Obviously that's blisteringly fast but for comparison, he ran 4:59 pace last year.

My finishing time was 33:29. I won't lie- I'm disappointed by it, especially since this was my first race representing Sisu. But I guess for that same reason, I should be happy because I persevered through it, something my teammates would be proud of. I definitely think I could've done better on a cooler night. This race was the first during which I took water at a water stop. I know that's hard to believe, but it's true. I've been practicing with water during some of my training runs in preparation for Rock n Roll Providence in a couple of weeks. (Oh yeah, did I mention I'm doing another half? I'm even less prepared for this one but oh well). So I guess I won't beat myself up over Sapienza because conditions were pretty tough. Plus, I'm happy to have participated in the grand finale race.


Here are links to a couple of stories about the race, along with one that talks about the ridiculous number of races in the Haverhill area:

Memories of Sapienza continue to fuel Strout
Future Grandson wins Sapienza finale
Too many road races?

We're in the club now

First of all, hi! I'm not dead!

I'm assuming you got the reference to the Up soundtrack in the post title- good for you!

I made a somewhat impulsive decision today. I finally joined a running club. For a while, the Winner's Circle looked like the frontrunner (no pun intended). They're all over the place on the local scene, and Dad seemed to support the idea of me joining. Grandma even offered to pay my lifetime membership fee when she watched me at Evelyn's Run for the Roses (aka where I set my most recent 5k PR). But last weekend, I got another idea. Matt, the guy at Whirlaway who sold me my Green Silences (aka my babies), was doing some strides before the Plaistow Old Home Day 5k and I saw he was wearing a Sisu Project singlet. I'd seen those singlets around since my first Baldi River Run in 2007 but never really knew anything about the team except that it was composed of super fast people. So the other night, I shot them an e-mail asking to know more about the team, including if I was too slow or young to join it. Matt wrote back and basically said as long as I could be a supportive and positive member of the team, living by the team's principles of "stability" and "positivity," then I could be involved. I asked about a hundred more questions including if it was okay to do races on my own (because everyone knows I like to do one every once in a great while) and if I needed to attend every group run, because that would be hard, given the variability of my work hours. The overall response I got back was that everything was fine.

So anyway, I'm now an official member of the Sisu Project. An official USATF member, at that (I'm also a bit impulsive with my trusty Visa card). What I like about the team is that it's about a lot more than just running. I guess the word I'm looking for is "holistic." God knows I need a bit more positivity and stability in my life. I think Sisu can help make me not just a better runner, but also a better person. I'm looking forward to being a part of the team and seeing what I can learn from my teammates.

Everything is a mess

The title is sort of self-explanatory.

1. So far this year, I've only run 111.6 miles. That is despicable, especially since I want(ed) to run 1,000 by the end of December.

2. Like every other aspect of my life, I lack the motivation necessary to truly apply myself to running. On a given day, I can think of multiple excuses NOT to run. A lot of the time, I'm just too goddamn lazy.

3. I don't trust my body whatsoever. It's just not built for this kind of thing. It broke down once and I feel like it might do it again. The fact that I have trouble walking after a shift at work is indicative of this.

4. Life in general just sort of sucks right now. I'm no longer in school and haven't made any plans to go back. My relationships are falling apart. I sleep a lot and am always tired. I wouldn't mind sleeping for weeks at a time if I could.

That's all for now.

(Not) Running in Canada

Okay. It's been a while since I last posted. The quick and easy explanation is that I was lazy.

So what has been going on in my life? Well, I went to Canada last week for the first time in my life. It was a pretty chill place. And by that, I mean it was goddamn freezing. We've had a pretty nasty winter here in New England, but I still had some trouble dealing with the cold up there. Quebec was a beautiful city and I wanted to explore as much of it as I could, but being outside was sometimes physically painful. It was the kind of cold where you're constantly wiping snot from your nose even though you're not sick (yet).

That being said, I did succeed at running once in Canada. It was our first full day in Montreal, and Andrew and I did an out-and-back loop. Quite frankly, it sucked. The sidewalks were icy, Canadians were blowing cigarette smoke into our faces as we passed, and we stopped every ten feet to wait for the light to change. Some of the people gawked at us as if they'd never seen runners before. Others wouldn't move out of the way for us to get by them. Granted, we were running in a kind of business-y district so I can understand why we may have looked out of place. Just when hope was about lost, we spotted a pair of runners near the end of our route. I can't even explain the excitement I felt. We were not alone!

Later that day, we climbed a mountain. I'm not sure if it was classified as a mountain, but who cares. The view from the top was beautiful; we could see the whole city. As we were climbing up, we passed lots of runners (or, more accurately, they passed us). We glimpsed a giant pack of them running back to the bottom. They were all clad in fancy running gear and looked super serious.

I had multiple chances to run in Quebec. Andrew mapped a route and everything. But it was cold, I felt sick, etc. The usual deal. Except I actually really wanted to run there. It's incredibly scenic and more runner-friendly than Montreal. If I go back when it's warmer, I will.

$99, 3 cities, and 12 miles later, I've run the Wild Rover.

Today (err, technically yesterday now) was the last race of the 2011 Wild Rover Series- the Hynes Tavern 5 miler. I went into it with pretty high expectations for myself so I was kind of nervous. Although the beginning of the day was a slight train wreck, everything turned out way better than I thought it would.

To start, as we were driving to Lowell, it began to rain. Rain can be ominous, especially when you've psyched yourself up so much. After getting out of the car, we noticed that it was probably about 10 degrees colder than the weather man predicted. The race attire I had selected consisted of my lightest-weight tech t-shirt and shorts. Some people were dressed for the Arctic. And then, with a half hour to go before the race start, I went to use the bathroom only to find about a hundred people in front of me. Any logical person would have taken care of business before leaving the house. I did so. But my system always freaks the hell out on race days and I repeatedly find myself in this type of situation. With about 10 people in front of me in line, I chanced a look at my watch. 12:50. The race was to start at 1:00. Panic much?

Running through the cemetery. Photo by J. Rhoades

Needless to say, my warm-up consisted of jogging to the starting line. At least I made it in time. At the last second, I found Dad and asked "What do you want me to run?" "8" was his reply. The race itself went really well. I went out at a quick but steady pace, not wanting to burn out (which I did a little bit around mile 2 but I recovered). This course was neat because we got to run on highway overpasses and through a cemetery where supposedly Jack Kerouac is buried. There were no Mt. Claddaghs in this course but there were "rolling hills," which are like the ones around my house, so I didn't worry about them too much. I went by the 3 mile mark in 23:12, which is my exact finishing time from the Frozen Shamrock 3 weeks ago. I went by the 4 mile mark in about 31 minutes, faster than I ran Claddagh. At that point, I know this sounds awful, but I realized it was literally impossible to miss my 40 minute goal time, so I didn't kill myself in the last mile. But a car almost had the pleasure- it pulled out into the street in front of us and just hung out there for a few seconds. FYI- runners hate cars. It's like, yeah, we're trying to get somewhere in a hurry too, and we're working a hell of a lot harder than you are, Mr. Lexus.

Anyway, my parents were both at the finish, screaming my name. My final time was 39 flat, over 4 minutes faster than I ran Bradford a month ago. As was the case last week, my splits were almost perfectly even (not sure how that's happening but cool). But the thing that impacted me most was my parents' enthusiasm after I crossed the line. They were beyond proud of me that I'd broken the magic 8 minute barrier; my dad let out a whoop that earned us quite a few stares. Per usual, I sacrificed my free beer to him ("Next year it will be mine," I assured the volunteer passing them out). We'd brought my series medal and a pair of pliers in my backpack so I could wear the completely assembled medal right away; it looks awwwwwesome. We then had a kind stranger take a picture of us all together. And THEN, I saw Mr. Lou Peters finish his race and I was lucky enough to snag a photo with him. I pretty much love that man.

When I got home, I chewed some Pepto tablets (since the race wasn't physically agreeing with me all that well), curled up on the couch under a blanket, and watched some of Snow White on ABC Family while Dad did his daily walk around the block. Eventually I mustered up enough energy to shower and change- into my new shirt, naturally. And obviously it made sense to wear my medal around the house. Ruby and Anjie were impressed, at least.

So it's past midnight, Ruby's trying to eat the plastic bag that my race t-shirt came in, and I'm seriously contemplating doing the Disney Wine and Dine Half and/or the Disney Marathon Weekend half/full/both. But I also have about 10 race fliers for local events taking place in the next few weeks. Decisions decisions.

With Coach/Dad and my completed bling

Me with the two most important people in my life. Awww.

Me and Lou!!