So many people hate running on treadmills, but I don't mind it so much and I think the reason is pretty lame. I think it is easier than running outdoors. Physically. Not mentally. You agree? My husband hates the treadmill, but he's also a foot taller than me, which makes running on a treadmill difficult when your stride is loooong. He also says that he gets bored so fast and prefers to run outdoors. I can see his point. I have come up with all sorts of mind games to play while I run indoors and I'll list some of them below.
My most recent run earlier this week was on the treadmill at the gym. I'm itching to run outside, but that day, we were being smothered with 18 inches of brand new snow. All signs of spring went out the window and I realized the treadmill and I would be together a while longer. This was my second run in a week. I fell off the running... working out all together... bandwagon for a while and am getting back on.
My goal: 4 miles.
I was going to run 4 miles whether my legs, lungs and mind liked it or not. I tend to start runs at 5.5 with zero incline... nice and flat for this girl. I get 2 minutes in and I'm bored to death. I bump the speed up to 6.0, 6.5 and 7.0, but then I crash. I crash fast. I never get past 3 miles when I let my mind get the best of me. I needed to break the habit, so 4 miles it was. I turned on my iPod, put my water bottle in the holder, put my sweat towel on the right hand railing and off I went. I forced myself to keep the 5.5 speed for all 4 miles. Because I kept a nice, steady pace, I felt great when I finished... so much so that I went back to old habits and put the speed up to 7.0 (FAST in my book) and ran until my vision became slightly blurry and got to 4.15 miles. With a cooldown walk, I ended my workout at 4.33 miles and felt fantastic. I may have been dripping sweat and my face was probably as red as the red tshirt I was wearing, but as my husband often reminds me: you're at the gym - you're supposed to look like this! Plus, its a sign that I worked hard, which makes me feel good about the experience too.
The mind games I played with myself to accomplish these 4 miles:
1. Don't look at the mileage on the treadmill. I don't put towels over the numbers like some people do because I like to glance down every once in a while and see how I'm doing.
2. Keep an eye on my husband, who was in the weight room area the entire time I ran, and pretend he's been checking me out the entire time. I like to think he thinks I look good when I run. True or not, I'm sticking to this theory.
3. Don't think about running. My thoughts that day consisted of these things: grocery shopping list, picking up our son from daycare and how fun that is, what I was going to make for dinner, remembering how awesome I felt finishing the half marathon, what I would write on this blog and of course, the theory in number 2 above.
4. Push through 30 more seconds when you think you can't go one second further. If I can get past 30 more seconds, I can do another 30 seconds. When I run outside, I use street lights, signs, houses, trees, anything I can to say that if I can get to that spot, I pushed through. Pushing through gives me confidence and also builds my physical running ability, so win win!
5. Talk yourself up. I pushed past those 30 seconds over and over. Yes!!! I rock!! I don't care how well people are working out around me, but if I beat a goal or a challenge I put in front of myself, I let myself know how awesome I think that is. Positive reinforcement, people.
I had a great run that day. I felt energetic and happy afterwards. I did this 4 mile run to prove to myself that I can push past 3 miles again (I haven't run past 3 since the half last summer). It is a mental milestone for me. I did it! My legs, lungs and mind beat the treadmill.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Half Marathon 2010
The run that brought sanity back to my life.
Aside from giving birth and adjusting to life as a new mother, training for the half marathon may have been the next most difficult thing I have done. It was about 3 months after I gave birth to my son and I felt like I was never going to get back in shape. I felt chubby and drained. Between multiple middle of the night feedings, returning to a full-time job after 12 weeks of maternity leave and trying to figure out how continuing my wife role fit in to this new life, I had no energy left to take care of my physical self. In those first couple months post-baby, I struggled to ever feel rested, rarely laughed at my husband's jokes and stressed myself out so much the first week back to work that I made myself vomit in a second floor bathroom. Life with a newborn.
Something had to change, so I started talking to a friend of mine who I thought would probably run a race with me since we had run one together in the past. I didn't want to run a 5K. It had to be something very, very challenging for myself. The half marathon. My friend was game almost immediately! The night came when we both agreed to sign up for the Minneapolis Half Marathon. We texted back and forth.
Me: Did you sign up yet?
Her: No, did you? I'm SO nervous.
Me: No, but I'm SO nervous too!
Her: Okay, I'm going to sign up right now. You better do it too!
Me: Okay, I'm going to sign up. Text me when you're done.
Her: Just signed up... WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!
Me: I don't know!!!! I'm freaking out!
Her: Bri, we can do this! We are so going to do this.
Me: We totally are! Okay, now I'm excited!
Her: Me too!
No joke. That's about how the text conversation went. We signed up and had roughly 4 months to train. The next week, I ran on the treadmill at the gym. I think I ran 1.5 miles. It was my second or third time running since having the baby and my doctor warned me about working out too much and not letting my body adjust slowly. My doctor was right and I injured my knee. Too much too soon. I was so disappointed that running 1.5 miles caused an injury. I'd rather run through an injury than lay on the couch recuperating, but I could barely walk up and down the stairs without being in pain, so it was necessary for me to take time off. Three weeks later, my knee finally felt normal again. I did a couple 1 mile runs for a week just to get the feel of it. No pain!
My friend and I tried for weeks to get together for training runs. We had a couple scheduled and something always came up. We never did one run together in preparation for this race. She ended up training with her husband and he signed up for the race himself, which I thought was a fantastic idea. If he's going to put the miles in, he might as well run the actual race! She would email me reports about their runs, what their times were and how she felt. I learned from her emails that they would be running a faster pace than me and as the race approached, we decided that on race day they would run at their pace and I would run mine. Sure, we signed up together, but finishing the race was both of our goals... however we got there.
Not only was it impossible to find time to run with my friend, but it was nearly impossible for me to find time to run all by myself. Being a working, nursing mom only allowed for short windows of time where I could sneak in a run. My baby was still nursing every 3-4 hours during this time and I had to nurse him (or pump... gahh... the pump) right before every run, be back, stretch, and shower up before it was time to nurse again. And then find something to eat before bed. I found it difficult and mentally challenging to add another activity into my day, but I knew I had to do it. Every time I came back from a run, I felt amazing. I could feel my body getting stronger. My stomach chub was diminishing. My knees felt solid.
I also felt amazing because it was time I needed to just be me. All day long, I played the role of mom, wife and employee. I didn't have a chance to just be me and be alone. I didn't have time in the day to listen to my own thoughts or to just not think at all. Nobody talked to me, nobody spit up on me, nobody emailed me. It was just me. A lot of new moms, and probably experienced moms, must feel this way too. There was so much on my plate, so many expectations and it was increasily stressful to juggle it all.
Most of my training runs took place along the Mississippi River in St. Paul in the spring and eventually the start of summer. The path curves and bends in all the right places. There are little hills here and there and there are houses that line the boulevard that I can only dream about living in someday. It was a great path to have my me time on. Usually, because of my son's nursing schedule, I ran right after work around 6 PM. My favorite time of day. You know how the sun turns orange as its coming down and makes everything look richer? Perfect. Running was my escape. Whether it was 1 mile or 7 miles.
As it turns out, 7 miles was the longest run I did in preparing for the race. Rookie mistake, right? For a few days before the race, I couldn't get it out of my head that 7 wasn't enough and that I wouldn't be able to finish the race. All along, my goal was to just finish. If I had to walk, I would walk, but I was going to finish that race. I kept telling myself that and the nerves subsided.
Race morning: My alarm went off at 5 AM. I got dressed in my favorite running gear, struggled to put down a small amount of oatmeal and then very much struggled to eat a banana. After a brief stomach ache, it was time to nurse the baby, get in the car and go downtown. Our son is an eater. He never refuses food and back when he was just nursing, it was the same. 6 AM: THE BABY WON'T NURSE! Panic mode sets in. He won't eat. He HAS to eat! The pump isn't ready to go. I have to wash pump parts. Hurry. Hurry. Hurrrrrrrry! Maybe the baby could sense my anxiety and wanted nothing to do with me. Thank God for electric pumps. I turned that sucker on high and we were driving downtown in no time.
Don't ask me how, but I found my friend and her husband among the crowd of thousands almost immediately after my husband dropped me off and gave me a good luck kiss. The race started and we were off! Within the first minute or so, I told my friends to just go on and enjoy the race. I was determined to set a good pace for myself from the start and I could tell I was going to be slower than them. We said goodbye and good luck. I put in my earbuds and started a podcast from The Parent Experiment. During training, I found that I ran longer distances better when listening to something I could engage in rather than listening to music. Try it sometime!
Miles 1, 2, 3 and 4 went by and when I saw mile markers for 5 and 6, I felt so happy. I was a little nervous about approaching mile markers 7 and 8 because I knew that would be the farthest I had run up to that point. At about 7.5 miles, I noticed a giant pink sign that said "Go Bri!" It was my mom, dad and sisters! They took pictures of me as I ran (Oh, those are beautiful...) and gave me high-fives as I passed by them. Both of my sisters had run half marathons before me, so it was encouraging to me to have them there cheering me on. My dad jumped onto the road and ran with me for about a half mile. He told me that my husband and baby boy were down the road a bit more. I was so excited! I finally spotted them and stopped to take a picture with my baby at mile 8. I felt determined and strong. My family being there to support me meant the world to me. I swallowed the raspberry energy goo after leaving my family and wow, that sat like a rock in my stomach. The feeling went away fast and I was going on miles 9, 10 and 11.
The end was near. I could taste it. I rounded a corner and in front of me was the most giant hill I have ever seen. It may have looked bigger that day than it would to me now. My knees were starting to burn, my tank top was sweaty and my two sports bras (nursing mom, remember) were starting to feel tight and misplaced. I started into a walk-run thing going up the hill and then all of the sudden, mile marker 13 appeared. I could hear the man's voice over the speakers announcing people's names as they crossed the finish line. Right then, I decided to run, not limp or jog, but run across the finish line. Right before I crossed, I heard someone call out my name. It was my friend and her husband! They had finished 15 minutes ahead of me and were waiting to see me cross. I think I managed to do my best wave while doing an all out sprint.
"Brianna from St. Paul... congratulations on finishing" the announcer man said.
I did it!!! I did it!!!! I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I saw my family waiting for me and a woman put a finisher's medal around my neck. That woman had no idea how much that medal meant to me. My family hugged me and congratulated me. I kissed my baby snoozing in his stroller. I ate orange slices and a sugar cookie.
I didn't do this race for anyone else, but myself. I finished a stronger, happier, more confident wife, mother, and employee (working out = more energy = higher productivity, right?!). But most of all, I found myself again. It was truly an amazing day. That afternoon, I told my family I wanted to run another half because I had such a fun time and gained so much from the experience.
I did it!
Aside from giving birth and adjusting to life as a new mother, training for the half marathon may have been the next most difficult thing I have done. It was about 3 months after I gave birth to my son and I felt like I was never going to get back in shape. I felt chubby and drained. Between multiple middle of the night feedings, returning to a full-time job after 12 weeks of maternity leave and trying to figure out how continuing my wife role fit in to this new life, I had no energy left to take care of my physical self. In those first couple months post-baby, I struggled to ever feel rested, rarely laughed at my husband's jokes and stressed myself out so much the first week back to work that I made myself vomit in a second floor bathroom. Life with a newborn.
Something had to change, so I started talking to a friend of mine who I thought would probably run a race with me since we had run one together in the past. I didn't want to run a 5K. It had to be something very, very challenging for myself. The half marathon. My friend was game almost immediately! The night came when we both agreed to sign up for the Minneapolis Half Marathon. We texted back and forth.
Me: Did you sign up yet?
Her: No, did you? I'm SO nervous.
Me: No, but I'm SO nervous too!
Her: Okay, I'm going to sign up right now. You better do it too!
Me: Okay, I'm going to sign up. Text me when you're done.
Her: Just signed up... WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!
Me: I don't know!!!! I'm freaking out!
Her: Bri, we can do this! We are so going to do this.
Me: We totally are! Okay, now I'm excited!
Her: Me too!
No joke. That's about how the text conversation went. We signed up and had roughly 4 months to train. The next week, I ran on the treadmill at the gym. I think I ran 1.5 miles. It was my second or third time running since having the baby and my doctor warned me about working out too much and not letting my body adjust slowly. My doctor was right and I injured my knee. Too much too soon. I was so disappointed that running 1.5 miles caused an injury. I'd rather run through an injury than lay on the couch recuperating, but I could barely walk up and down the stairs without being in pain, so it was necessary for me to take time off. Three weeks later, my knee finally felt normal again. I did a couple 1 mile runs for a week just to get the feel of it. No pain!
My friend and I tried for weeks to get together for training runs. We had a couple scheduled and something always came up. We never did one run together in preparation for this race. She ended up training with her husband and he signed up for the race himself, which I thought was a fantastic idea. If he's going to put the miles in, he might as well run the actual race! She would email me reports about their runs, what their times were and how she felt. I learned from her emails that they would be running a faster pace than me and as the race approached, we decided that on race day they would run at their pace and I would run mine. Sure, we signed up together, but finishing the race was both of our goals... however we got there.
Not only was it impossible to find time to run with my friend, but it was nearly impossible for me to find time to run all by myself. Being a working, nursing mom only allowed for short windows of time where I could sneak in a run. My baby was still nursing every 3-4 hours during this time and I had to nurse him (or pump... gahh... the pump) right before every run, be back, stretch, and shower up before it was time to nurse again. And then find something to eat before bed. I found it difficult and mentally challenging to add another activity into my day, but I knew I had to do it. Every time I came back from a run, I felt amazing. I could feel my body getting stronger. My stomach chub was diminishing. My knees felt solid.
I also felt amazing because it was time I needed to just be me. All day long, I played the role of mom, wife and employee. I didn't have a chance to just be me and be alone. I didn't have time in the day to listen to my own thoughts or to just not think at all. Nobody talked to me, nobody spit up on me, nobody emailed me. It was just me. A lot of new moms, and probably experienced moms, must feel this way too. There was so much on my plate, so many expectations and it was increasily stressful to juggle it all.
Most of my training runs took place along the Mississippi River in St. Paul in the spring and eventually the start of summer. The path curves and bends in all the right places. There are little hills here and there and there are houses that line the boulevard that I can only dream about living in someday. It was a great path to have my me time on. Usually, because of my son's nursing schedule, I ran right after work around 6 PM. My favorite time of day. You know how the sun turns orange as its coming down and makes everything look richer? Perfect. Running was my escape. Whether it was 1 mile or 7 miles.
As it turns out, 7 miles was the longest run I did in preparing for the race. Rookie mistake, right? For a few days before the race, I couldn't get it out of my head that 7 wasn't enough and that I wouldn't be able to finish the race. All along, my goal was to just finish. If I had to walk, I would walk, but I was going to finish that race. I kept telling myself that and the nerves subsided.
Race morning: My alarm went off at 5 AM. I got dressed in my favorite running gear, struggled to put down a small amount of oatmeal and then very much struggled to eat a banana. After a brief stomach ache, it was time to nurse the baby, get in the car and go downtown. Our son is an eater. He never refuses food and back when he was just nursing, it was the same. 6 AM: THE BABY WON'T NURSE! Panic mode sets in. He won't eat. He HAS to eat! The pump isn't ready to go. I have to wash pump parts. Hurry. Hurry. Hurrrrrrrry! Maybe the baby could sense my anxiety and wanted nothing to do with me. Thank God for electric pumps. I turned that sucker on high and we were driving downtown in no time.
Don't ask me how, but I found my friend and her husband among the crowd of thousands almost immediately after my husband dropped me off and gave me a good luck kiss. The race started and we were off! Within the first minute or so, I told my friends to just go on and enjoy the race. I was determined to set a good pace for myself from the start and I could tell I was going to be slower than them. We said goodbye and good luck. I put in my earbuds and started a podcast from The Parent Experiment. During training, I found that I ran longer distances better when listening to something I could engage in rather than listening to music. Try it sometime!
Miles 1, 2, 3 and 4 went by and when I saw mile markers for 5 and 6, I felt so happy. I was a little nervous about approaching mile markers 7 and 8 because I knew that would be the farthest I had run up to that point. At about 7.5 miles, I noticed a giant pink sign that said "Go Bri!" It was my mom, dad and sisters! They took pictures of me as I ran (Oh, those are beautiful...) and gave me high-fives as I passed by them. Both of my sisters had run half marathons before me, so it was encouraging to me to have them there cheering me on. My dad jumped onto the road and ran with me for about a half mile. He told me that my husband and baby boy were down the road a bit more. I was so excited! I finally spotted them and stopped to take a picture with my baby at mile 8. I felt determined and strong. My family being there to support me meant the world to me. I swallowed the raspberry energy goo after leaving my family and wow, that sat like a rock in my stomach. The feeling went away fast and I was going on miles 9, 10 and 11.
The end was near. I could taste it. I rounded a corner and in front of me was the most giant hill I have ever seen. It may have looked bigger that day than it would to me now. My knees were starting to burn, my tank top was sweaty and my two sports bras (nursing mom, remember) were starting to feel tight and misplaced. I started into a walk-run thing going up the hill and then all of the sudden, mile marker 13 appeared. I could hear the man's voice over the speakers announcing people's names as they crossed the finish line. Right then, I decided to run, not limp or jog, but run across the finish line. Right before I crossed, I heard someone call out my name. It was my friend and her husband! They had finished 15 minutes ahead of me and were waiting to see me cross. I think I managed to do my best wave while doing an all out sprint.
"Brianna from St. Paul... congratulations on finishing" the announcer man said.
I did it!!! I did it!!!! I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I saw my family waiting for me and a woman put a finisher's medal around my neck. That woman had no idea how much that medal meant to me. My family hugged me and congratulated me. I kissed my baby snoozing in his stroller. I ate orange slices and a sugar cookie.
I didn't do this race for anyone else, but myself. I finished a stronger, happier, more confident wife, mother, and employee (working out = more energy = higher productivity, right?!). But most of all, I found myself again. It was truly an amazing day. That afternoon, I told my family I wanted to run another half because I had such a fun time and gained so much from the experience.
I did it!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
I did it: my race history
Up until a few years ago, I had never run more than 1 mile at a time. Never. It's not that I'm not athletic - I played basketball and tennis growing up, started playing soccer on a summer league during high school, and held up with the best of them on the intramural broomball team in college. My knees had two giant bruises on them every January from 2001 to 2004. And now, in my late 20's, I've joined a women's soccer team. Sure, we're considered recreational, but we don't mess around. So, maybe by being in team sports all along caused me not to go out and run by myself. No ball, no opponent, no doubles partner. Where's the competition in that, right?
It was the fall of 2007 and Thanksgiving was coming up. The gym my husband and I belong to puts on a Thanksgiving Day 5K race every year in downtown Minneapolis. I really wanted to do it because I thought it'd be a great way to get in a workout before attending two Thanksgiving family gatherings only hours apart. My husband and I signed up along with his younger brother. Race day came and we woke up to snow! Not only had I not really trained for this race, but now it was snowing. I put on some sweats and a hat. Off we went. It was a really fun event and finishing the race made it even better! I was so proud of myself for running 3.1 miles... a slow 3.1 miles and maybe I walked just a bit, but I did it. My husband ran beside me the entire way even though he could've finished in half the time. What a guy.
The next weekend, a friend and I ran another 5K race around a lake in Minneapolis. It was snowing and sleeting and there was an awful wind off the lake. We had a fantastic time despite it all. Two 5Ks under my belt. This is fun, I thought!
Next, my husband and I visited his sister and her husband who lived in Phoenix at the time. I begged the three of them to sign up for a 5K while we were out there visiting. It was unlike my other 5Ks: hot temps, hot sun, uphill. It was my first 5K in shorts and a tanktop. We were sweaty and beat, but we did it!
A year went by and I hadn't done any races even though I did keep up with running at the gym. In the beginning of 2009, we tried for a baby and I got pregnant right away. We felt so lucky. About 3 months after my son was born, it hit me that getting back in shape would be the hardest thing in the world to accomplish in the midst of getting little sleep, nursing, going back to work after maternity leave and having little time for myself. I needed motivation to do something about it. A friend and I signed up (after much hesitation on both our parts) for a half marathon. A HALF MARATHON. According to training schedules we found online, we were already behind since the race was only 4 months away, so we had to get running! The 5Ks I had run before were all mostly for fun, but I signed up for the half more or less to get back in shape. Once I finished, I realized I ran it for so many more reasons.
I felt such a sense of accomplishment when I finally made it over 1 mile. Then 2 and 3. And then 13.1.
Next post: my half-marathon from start to finish. Oh yes, I finished!
It was the fall of 2007 and Thanksgiving was coming up. The gym my husband and I belong to puts on a Thanksgiving Day 5K race every year in downtown Minneapolis. I really wanted to do it because I thought it'd be a great way to get in a workout before attending two Thanksgiving family gatherings only hours apart. My husband and I signed up along with his younger brother. Race day came and we woke up to snow! Not only had I not really trained for this race, but now it was snowing. I put on some sweats and a hat. Off we went. It was a really fun event and finishing the race made it even better! I was so proud of myself for running 3.1 miles... a slow 3.1 miles and maybe I walked just a bit, but I did it. My husband ran beside me the entire way even though he could've finished in half the time. What a guy.
The next weekend, a friend and I ran another 5K race around a lake in Minneapolis. It was snowing and sleeting and there was an awful wind off the lake. We had a fantastic time despite it all. Two 5Ks under my belt. This is fun, I thought!
Next, my husband and I visited his sister and her husband who lived in Phoenix at the time. I begged the three of them to sign up for a 5K while we were out there visiting. It was unlike my other 5Ks: hot temps, hot sun, uphill. It was my first 5K in shorts and a tanktop. We were sweaty and beat, but we did it!
A year went by and I hadn't done any races even though I did keep up with running at the gym. In the beginning of 2009, we tried for a baby and I got pregnant right away. We felt so lucky. About 3 months after my son was born, it hit me that getting back in shape would be the hardest thing in the world to accomplish in the midst of getting little sleep, nursing, going back to work after maternity leave and having little time for myself. I needed motivation to do something about it. A friend and I signed up (after much hesitation on both our parts) for a half marathon. A HALF MARATHON. According to training schedules we found online, we were already behind since the race was only 4 months away, so we had to get running! The 5Ks I had run before were all mostly for fun, but I signed up for the half more or less to get back in shape. Once I finished, I realized I ran it for so many more reasons.
I felt such a sense of accomplishment when I finally made it over 1 mile. Then 2 and 3. And then 13.1.
Next post: my half-marathon from start to finish. Oh yes, I finished!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
This is me.
Welcome to my blog! My name is Brianna and I do not consider myself a runner. In my mind, a real runner is someone who runs races every month of the year (and I don't mean small races like 5Ks), wears sports bras and super tiny shorts on runs and writes articles for running magazines. I am none of those. But I like to run. I need to do it. I'm starting this blog mostly as a journal to document the reasons I run, how the runs go, preparing for any races I might sign up for, to raise awareness for a cause that is important to me and to hopefully encourage all of you to run too... whatever your reasons might be.
A little bit about me. I'm younger than 30, but not by much. I was born and raised in the Twin Cities and continue to call this place home with my husband and son. My husband and I met in college, married 3 years later and had our son in 2009. He is the most amazing little boy: he's wild, smiley, happy, curious, and is developing a fantastic sense of humor! He doesn't sleep a lot. We figure he has too much to do and wants to explore everything. I work full-time for a large company and also do photography on the side, which makes life extra chaotic. I try my best to put healthy meals on the table (ok, who am I kidding... we set the table for guests, but not ourselves), keep the house in order and be a great mom and wife. It is really hard some days, but I love my life. I need to run to keep up with it all, get a little alone time in once in a while and refresh myself.
Again, welcome and enjoy this journey with me!
A little bit about me. I'm younger than 30, but not by much. I was born and raised in the Twin Cities and continue to call this place home with my husband and son. My husband and I met in college, married 3 years later and had our son in 2009. He is the most amazing little boy: he's wild, smiley, happy, curious, and is developing a fantastic sense of humor! He doesn't sleep a lot. We figure he has too much to do and wants to explore everything. I work full-time for a large company and also do photography on the side, which makes life extra chaotic. I try my best to put healthy meals on the table (ok, who am I kidding... we set the table for guests, but not ourselves), keep the house in order and be a great mom and wife. It is really hard some days, but I love my life. I need to run to keep up with it all, get a little alone time in once in a while and refresh myself.
Again, welcome and enjoy this journey with me!
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