Five

I meant to get out over the weekend for a long run, but a few too many fun things got in the way. That makes me sound like I have zero dedication to my running, but I made sure to get out on Monday evening. I was planning a 5 mile run after work. Not knowing this, my husband asked early in the day if I wanted to go on a family run after work. I told him I'd be running 5 and he and our little guy could join me if they so desired. He said that he'd do 3 with me, which is fine because 6'5" guys aren't your typical long distance runners. Is 5 miles even considered long distance? If you want to know my opinion, the answer is yes.

Summer already seems long gone and fall has definitely made an entrance. It's been cool and a bit rainy, but yesterday afternoon was just beautiful. I had to take the opportunity to run outdoors while I can (I do not run in the cold if I can help it). My boy was excited to go running as usual. As soon as we set out on a course near our house that I had mapped on MapMyRun.com, he knew we'd pass by the bulldozers working on building the next step up neighborhood. He was beside himself with excitement. I love that my boy is filled with so much joy. You can see it in every ounce of his body and being.

Mile 1: Great start. My husband and I are talking. We get to the bulldozers and our boy is in awe. The bulldozers are still out working and making all sorts of noises that two year olds adore. We slowed down a bit so that our boy could take it all in, but continued on our route.

Mile 2: Our boy is begging to go back and see the bulldozers. An almost two year old begging? Seems weird, right? Mmm hmmm. No. Not weird. He continues to beg the entire second mile. We ran up a giant hill and a semi truck and UPS truck passed us, which helped distract him for a while. At the top of the hill, I wanted so desperately bad to stop and catch my breath, but my husband told me to keep going. I did. It was really, really hard.

Mile 3: We were on a straight road. No elevation change. No curves. It was a long road. It never seemed to end. My husband and son started on their way back on a different path. And yes, this path would take them back to the bulldozers (where they happened to stay and watch them work for a good 15 minutes). Our boy's lucky day!

Mile 4: I was on my own. I stopped to walk for a minute and put my ear buds in. Pandora played some great Mumford & Sons-like music. I looped through a neighborhood near our house. A whole bunch of people were out walking their dogs and I nodded and smiled as I ran by them. One guy was out walking a Westie and I could've sworn it was Anthony Bourdain. Tall, slender, grayish hair, black jacket. Looked a bit like he might have an attitude. I passed him a second time and wondered if his camera crew was out hiding somewhere and I was going to be on his show! But then I remembered I was running and really didn't want to appear on TV in this sweaty state. My mind wanders as I run and sometimes this works in my favor. Unfortunately, after I realized I wasn't being taped for No Reservations, I noticed that I had a horrible side cramp. I walked for about 5 minutes to help it go away, which made me feel a little lazy, but it felt like a good decision at the time.

Taking a breather around mile 4.5

Mile 5: The majority of mile 5 was a series of little rolling hills. Up and down. Up and down. I ran this entire last mile and I think I ran it with a bit more pep in my stride than the fourth. I could sense that the end was near. I just had to get to the stop light up ahead and be done with it.

Annnnd, done. Whew. I walked about a quarter of a mile home. I caught my breath and enjoyed a few minutes of alone time. When I turned onto our street and walked up our driveway, my son, who was playing outside with my husband, shouted, "Bullsosers!!! I saw bullsosers, mommy!"  Joy.

The Run for Harbor House

The half marathon was last Sunday morning. It was a bright and beautiful summer morning. It had been forecasted to be bright and beautiful all week long, which made me excited about the race. I feared a downpour or humidity so bad that you sweat without even moving. The weather was perfect last year and good weather just makes everything better, right? If I have good weather, the race just has to go well. Or so I thought.

I woke up on Sunday at 5:15 AM. It's the first time I set my alarm clock in months and months and months. I checked about 4 times to make sure I set it correctly. We have the early rising son, remember? When my alarm went off (what an awful sound), I didn't even remember how to turn it off. That's how rarely we have to use our alarm clocks. But I really needed my alarm to work on Sunday because race start was at 7 AM. One of my pet peeves is being late. I hate being late. To anything. It bothers me. Being late for my half marathon was not an option. We planned to leave the house at 6:15 and because we left at 6:17, my stomach started to ache. Will we get there on time? Will I have time to line up in the back of the pack with the rest of my fellow slow and steady runners? What if I have to use the bathroom? If I'm late, I won't have time to go! I can't run if I have to go!

My husband sensed my anxiety. He must have seen me glancing between the car's clock and looking out the window. And again. And again. Back and forth. Finally, he calmly said from the driver's seat, "Don't worry. We'll get you there in plenty of time." He patted my knee. I relaxed.

We arrived downtown Minneapolis ON TIME and I jumped out of the car at an intersection 1.5 blocks from the race start. My baby boy was in the back seat and gave me a look that said, "Wait... where are you going? She's leaving us!" The adorable little guy was still in his jammies. How cute are toddler boys in their truck jammies?! I walked fairly confidently to the start. There were crowds of people everywhere. Music was blasting. The sun was shining down on us, but it wasn't too warm yet. Runners of all shapes and ages lined up according to their pace. I chose the 11-minute mile pacer. I am willing to admit that I run slowly. I got lined up and had about 5 minutes to wait. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't put in my headphones so I could take in all the excitement. I just stood there looking around thinking about what I had to get done and why I was doing it. Deep breath in.... Out.... And then we were off!


I wore nearly the same outfit I wore last year. Black and pink tempo shorts, my new half marathon-sponsored white running hat and the black cotton tank from GapBody that is so old I can't even remember when I bought it. But that's my running outfit. At one mile in, I already sensed the temperature rising. I wondered if I'd regret wearing black shorts and shirt.


The first few miles seemed pretty easy. The course was slightly different than last year's. We crossed the Mississippi River three times on three different bridges, and on one of them, I could feel mist from the river. At mile 4, I had to stop and use the bathroom. Maybe I drank too much water before the race. I got in line and waited a solid 10 minutes for my turn. I nearly left the line because I got frustrated with how many people I saw run by while I stood there. The pacer I was following so well was long gone. I was convinced that I'd for sure come in last place after this stop. Finally, it was my turn. I opened the door and felt disgusted with what I saw in the port-a-potty, but I went in anyway. Thank goodness the hand sanitizer hadn't run out. After that stop, I felt the urge to catch up to the pacer, but in doing so, I got an awful side cramp and I think I blew a lot of energy just trying to get a good time. I'm not even sure what good is for me, so it was probably a silly idea. I'm also not sure why I cared about my time when I decided going into this race that I wouldn't be concerned about time.

I ran miles 5 and 6 trying to catch the pacer, but stopped at every PowerAde and water station along the way to hydrate. The sun continued to heat up the air and there were no shaded areas for a good distance. I felt very warm.

Can you sense the mental battle I am starting to face?


I turned the corner and came down a huge hill. It's the same hill that I would finish the race on because the course loops and mile 12 is completely uphill. At least this year I wasn't surprised by the big hill like I was last year :) Just before mile 7, I stopped to walk for a little bit. I felt discouraged and disappointed in myself. I kept thinking about my race last year and how I remember telling my husband at mile 8 that I felt fantastic. My mind was fighting against me. My legs felt like heavy weights even though my lungs felt perfectly fine. My right foot didn't hurt at all. Not once during the race did I feel pain other than my legs feeling incredibly heavy. I prayed to get that light, flying feeling as I ran.

A few things kept me going:


1. I knew that I had to and more importantly, wanted, to finish the race because despite the battle I was enduring, I was doing the race for the moms in Haiti. Despite everything I was feeling at the time, I wanted to finish it to represent them.
2. I knew that straight ahead at mile 8, I would see the faces of my mom, dad, husband and baby boy.
3. I knew that probably a little bit past that, I'd see the faces of my sister-in-law and brother-in-law cheering me on.
4. The weather kept me going. I tried to remind myself that it is sunny and beautiful. An ideal day for running. It might be a little hotter than I'd like, but at least it isn't pouring rain and miserable.

At mile 8, I saw those faces I expected and my mom immediately said, "You look GREAT! How do you feel?" I replied, "Horrible!" I took a picture with my baby boy just like last year, took a swig of my mom's freshly brewed iced tea (okay, I took two huge swigs), and off I went. About half a mile past them, I saw my sister-in-law and brother-in-law waving their arms to get my attention. More faces!! They both had cameras pointed at me, which reminded me to always keep good form while running :) It was refreshing to see them. I took the raspberry energy goo at mile 9 with water this year. Last year, I sucked the whole packet down without water and the goo sat like a rock in my stomach. I made a promise to myself that I'd never take the goo without water again. The goo + water helped.


Miles 9 and 10 were just as difficult physically. I ran some, walked some. I tried the running for one song, walk for one song thing. Around 10.5 miles, I saw my sister-in-law and brother-in-law again since I had looped back for the finish. They cheered and cheered. At mile 11, I saw my mom, dad, husband and baby boy. I took more iced tea from my mom. Part of me didn't want to leave them, but they assured me they'd be at the finish. My husband yelled, "TWO MILES! You've GOT this!!!" I've got it. I can do it.


The mile 12 hill appeared. No breaks. Just one giant hill. I wasn't the only one walking part of the way up the hill. Just past mile 12, a girl came up behind me and we started a conversation. She was so kind and sweet. She had run long distance races before and agreed that this particular run was a difficult one for her too. In half a mile, we talked about our jobs, my baby, where we live, other races we've run, our thoughts on the race we were doing at that exact moment, the weather, and spoke with other people around us. I felt like we became friends in those few minutes, yet we never exchanged names. So, wherever you are runner girl, I couldn't have done it without you.


Runner girl and I approached the finish line. We could see the big FINISH banner ahead. With a little bit more giant hill to go up, a spectator started shouting, "KILL THE HILL!!! KILL THE HILL!!!" She was shouting and chanting. Runner girl and I looked at each other like "should we?!" with smiles on our faces. Where was that spectator miles ago?!


The runner girl and I so killed the hill. I gave her a "great job! keep it up!" and she returned the encouragement. When we got to the top of the hill, we both made a dash for the finish. I felt as though my legs were falling off. My headphones, which had been draped over my neck ever since Runner Girl and I started chatting, were flying behind me and getting tangled up in my arms. I crossed the finish line smiling. I nearly broke down into tears.


I finished it. Immediately after crossing the line, I looked up and made eye contact with my parents standing just feet from the finish line. My dad had his iPhone out snapping pictures of me. I felt such a rush of emotions. I felt that I pleased my parents. I felt that the young mothers in Haiti had a new representative for them. I felt that although I had so many hurdles during training, I still did it. It was a different kind of sense of accomplishment than last year though. Last year, I did it for me and only me. I had to prove to myself I could do it. This year, it was mighty difficult, but I made a promise to these moms and to Harbor House that I'd do it. You supported me and there was never a day I thought I wouldn't do this race. It was for them and for you. We raised 80% of the goal and I think that is fantastic. I've never met a single one of these Haitian mothers, yet I know they'd be so encouraged by your support.


Throughout the run, I prayed that these mothers and the Harbor House would be blessed by the money you've donated and that they would feel support, compassion, encouragement, and strength in the days ahead. Strength for the challenging days. And absolute joy in all the great days.

Mile 8

Thank you!

Thank you!!!

You all are wonderful! The mothers in Haiti are so lucky to have such great supporters! Seeing the support encourages me to continue my training and to run strong for the moms. Thank you so much for helping me help them. It really means a lot.

After I posted about the fundraiser last week, I took my first 2-night trip away from my toddler. I flew to Seattle to visit my sister, who is a senior in college out there. We had amazing plans. The weekend schedule looked like this:

Dinner out Thursday night, hike Friday morning in the mountains, hang out in Queen Anne all afternoon, have dinner downtown Friday night, Saturday morning breakfast at a local bakery, drinks lots and lots and LOTS of coffee, and explore Pike's Market Saturday afternoon.

My sister had every detail planned out. She had arranged to get out of class early, take the day off from her internship, her roommates to hike with us and for her boyfriend to have dinner with us. She's adorable. My first vacation post baby! I was very excited. And then... I got sick. So sick. Thursday night I held my stomach and whined. We watched three movies on Friday in front of her TV and fireplace. I tried my best to sip on Gatorade. The plans were out the window. By Saturday afternoon, I felt well enough to visit Pike's, but only for 45 minutes. I left Seattle not taking one sip of amazing Seattle coffee. What a shame.

I was really looking forward to going for a run while in Seattle. I wanted to challenge myself with the crazy hills they have there. I don't think they have flat ground in and around where my sister lives. She trained for a half marathon on these roads and I wanted to do the same. But I couldn't. So. Sick.

Last night, I finally made it to the gym to run for the first time since that trip over the weekend. I was nervous how it would go since my caloric intake over those few days had been quite minimal. I went into it thinking that I'd run 2 miles and probably feel beat doing that.

Mile 1: I ran at 5.0 and felt as if I could run at that speed forever.

Mile 2: I ran at 5.5 and felt pretty good. I was definitely sweating, but wasn't breathing nearly as hard as I thought I'd be.

I stopped for a quick water break and started up again.

Mile 3: I ran at 6.0 and felt like I was pushing myself, but knew I could make it. I got pretty tired at 2.47 (yes, I remember) and felt a little discouraged. I kept telling myself that I am training for this race and I can do it. I also told myself that anyone can do anything for 5 more minutes. My husband tells me that and it worked.

I finished out this 3 mile run and felt great. I was doing some serious sweating, but my body was working hard after all the awfulness of last weekend. This weekend I'm planning a 5 mile run outside (IF it hits 60 degrees like its supposed to!). I love the way I feel this morning after that run last night.

Holy Hills

Spring!!!! Today I ran to breathe and experience the fresh outside spring air! I love it!! Was this the loooongest winter on record? I think it might have been... according to me at least. The sunshine was drawing me outside, so as soon as my son went down for a nap, I headed to the great outdoors hoping to accomplish a good run. And, I think I did.

My husband, son and I moved into this neighborhood about 7 months ago and I didn't run outside very much before the first snowfall last year. I wasn't quite sure where to run today and where I needed to go to get a few miles in. Some of you are thinking "map it out ahead of time." Ha. Okay. Right. Actually, that is what I should do. We only moved roughly 7 miles from where we used to live (city to suburb), so I plan to go back to those running routes hopefully once a week this summer. Those were my half marathon training routes. Loved them. Huge, mature trees, old mansions, the river, the Minneapolis skyline only a few miles off in the distance. It was the best.

Today's run was suburban residential. I passed about 100 mailboxes, mini-vans plastered with the area's school decals whizzed by me and a friendly neighbor was walking his dog. It was different, but good. I ran through a new development behind our neighborhood. The houses are what we like to call "the next step up" and maybe someday we can buy one of them. Maybe. I turned a corner and exited the new development. The next neighborhood was about 20 steps up from "the next step up." Wow. I will never have the need for a 5,000 square foot home and I would never want to be responsible for maintaining the cleanliness of a home that big. But they're fun to look at. And imagine the Christmas parties you could host!

I left that neighborhood as a sparkling BMW entered the street. And then... there it was. A huge hill.

I was glad, but annoyed at the same time. Glad because I knew I needed to push my running self as this was my first outdoor run in MONTHS and we all know I always leave the incline on the treadmill at a nice round zero. I was annoyed because I knew it was be painful. I huffed and puffed up the hill. I got to the top. Woohoo. When I got up there, the hill went way back down to the end of the street. My plan was to run all the way down and then loop back on the same path all the way back home. Okay, back up the hill. I can do it. And enter a horrible, horrible wind. Cold, cold wind. I hate running in cold weather, so when earlier the wind was to my back and the sun was shining down on my very pale skin, it felt like a warm May or June day outside. And then I turned into the wind. Bleh. I quickly put myself in the mindset that the more hills I run up and the stronger the wind is in my face, the easier the hills will feel on the next run and the wind won't seem as strong.

I did it. I ran my cold legs back up that hill and all the way home. If I had to guess, I'd say it was about 2.5 miles. I may get around to checking it out online, but I think this run was more about putting my outdoor legs back on and getting up those hills. Good day in the neighborhood.