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.

Whew... that was fun!

I set out on my run the other night just as I had planned. It was a gorgeous Minnesota fall evening. The sun was warm, but the air was getting cooler as the day went on. Perfect. I drove to a lake just a few miles from my house, parked where I could find a spot and hopped on the trail along with all the other runners, walkers and bikers out that afternoon. The loop is about 2.6 miles, and I had planned to do two loops.

The run started out great, which is partly due to the Mumford & Sons music coming into my ears. Now that I think about it, that's not really workout type of music, but it worked for me that night. I set out with a decent pace. My goal was to run slowly in order to do two loops, but sometimes you get in a groove and you just go with it. I finished loop one and felt like I had done a good job. I looked over at my parked car and really wanted to get in and go home. The other part of me knew I should run more. The sun was setting more and I really hate being alone in the dark despite the high traffic path I was running on. There was time for a little more, so I went on.

I decided turn around once I got to a certain point. The certain point was a big curve in the path that overlooks the lake. There's a little bench for people to sit on and relax. The certain point is also at the top of a little hill. Seemed like a natural place to turn. When I got to that little bench on top of the hill, I turned right around and headed back for the car. My body felt great. This was a fun run because while I didn't do 2 laps, I pushed myself more than I thought I would.

Right before I got to the car, I looked out over the lake and had to stop to take a picture with my phone.

These 4.6 miles, in this beautiful weather, in this gorgeous area of the world, completely brought my sanity back.

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!

Physical Limits

Last week I was reminded that the human body has limits. When I run or workout in general, I don't always feel like I've worked hard enough if I'm not in some kind of pain, my lungs aren't burning, or the sweat from my head isn't dripping into my eyes. I want to end a workout knowing I pushed myself to the limit in order to make it worth my time. Working out is time away from my family, so I'm doing my best to make that time worthwhile.

Our run around the lake last week went well and I felt like I put everything into it. My husband pushed the 31-pound weight in the jogging stroller and ran with me the first time around the lake. The path was so busy that we couldn't even run beside each other. He ran ahead of me and I was drafting behind him. It works in cycling... it has to work in running too, right? It was a difficult run mostly because of strong winds. I don't think I've run in peaceful weather yet this spring, so I'm hoping its not a sign that race day will be awful too.

My boys pulled over after one lap and let me keep going. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it around another 1.5 times because I truly felt exhausted after the first one. My body finally got in a groove and before I knew it, I was half way around. I was feeling more confident. That didn't last long though. A few minutes later, my knees started to burn. They were hollering at me to stop. Stopppp!! I didn't. I wanted to, but I didn't. I ran the entire second lap around the lake making it 6 miles total.

My knees just couldn't make it another half lap around the lake. So many thoughts went through my head and I tried not to feel like a failure. I'm not above walking when I need to for the half marathon and I know that adrenaline on race day will keep me going far longer than going out for a plain old training run. I finally justified stopping for two reasons. First, I don't want to injure myself before the race or burn out my knees. Second, two days after this run, I had my first soccer game and I wanted to feel good for the game.

Going into the first game, I had some crazy nerves. I was excited, but nervous at the same time. I hadn't played in two years and even though I've been running -- in a straight line with a nice, slow pace for months -- I knew the game would be painful. And oh was it painful. I started out the game playing left defense. The first run down the field, I nearly tripped over my own feet. Good save. Whew. Second run down the field wasn't as lucky. It felt like a whole minute went by as my arms and legs were flailing wildly going down the field and I tumbled and rolled right in front of my teammates on the sideline. Just pathetic.

After that, I recovered, but throughout the rest of the game, I was gasping for air and realized my sprints weren't as good as I'd hoped they'd be. Everything is harder the first time around. By the second half, everyone seemed warmed up and I'm happy to report that nobody puked (at least that I'm aware of). We tied 2-2.

I was so sore in the 24-48 hours after the game, but it was a good sore. My body hadn't made those kinds of movements in two years and I was so happy to be feeling sore all over the place. My back was even sore and I swear my hamstrings shortenend by about 3 inches. My body certainly reached its physical limits last week both with the 6 mile run and the soccer game. But both times I felt great afterwards. Well, I felt great once my knees stopped burning and once the game was over and my sister-in-law and I chatted in the car for 45 minutes about how fun it was to be playing again.

I'm still working on pushing it to the limit every time I'm running, playing soccer, or doing some other kind of workout. Pushing it means its going to be painful and maybe not always very enjoyable, but in the end, that's what gets results and gets me in better physical shape. It burns the stress right out of my system and allows my mind to go somewhere else for an hour that doesn't involve toddler frustrations or work demands. I don't always enjoy it while I'm doing it, but I know its worth it in many ways.

Six

In my last post, I told you about my 5 mile run. I was hoping to be further along with my training by this point, but sometimes you can't control what's going on with the rest of your life. Just gotta press on.

Two days after the 5 mile run, I did 3 miles at the gym in the evening after work. I am usually the one who puts our son to bed at night, but I missed out on that in order to run. I felt a little sad about missing bedtime, but I know I have to keep up the running and I know that my husband enjoys the bedtime routine with our son too... I guess I have to share. The routine is: put on jammies, drink 3 ounces of milk from a bottle (I can't break the habit... taking away this bottle means he is no longer a baby), say a goodnight prayer, sing "Jesus Loves Me" and then say "I love you" about 15 times before putting him in his crib. I love that routine. Simple, easy, short, but so precious. Sometimes I wonder if my toddler is thinking "Mommy, enough with the kisses! Put me down so I can go to sleep already!!!"

The run that night was good though. I'm glad I was able to get to the gym and knock out 3 miles in 30 minutes. It was similar to my 5 mile run. I felt great, felt happy, felt alive. I grocery shopped after the run and may have purchased a few unnecessary items due to post workout hunger. It happens.

That was Tuesday night. I didn't run the rest of the week to give my knees a little rest. It didn't work out in our schedule to run Friday or Saturday, so I knew I had to run Sunday. I think Sunday is quickly becoming my long run day.

My goal: 6 miles

Due to the crappy May 1st weather, I ran indoors at the gym. As I drove to the gym, I saw people running outside with winter hats and gloves on. I thought that maybe I'm too weak and should be running outside like the rest of them. But that thought quickly faded. Who am I kidding... I hate running in cold weather. I arrived at the gym and saw that my favorite treadmill next to the window was available. Yessss! I hopped on, pressed start and nothing happened. It was broken. Lame. I moved over one to the left (one spot further away from the window), which ended up being okay. Is anyone else as picky about their treadmill location as I am?

The run started off well. I listened to the David Crowder Pandora station again and gave a thumbs up to a few songs throughout the run. My mind wandered a little bit throughout the run. It was definitely more difficult than the 5 miler last Sunday. A couple reasons might be that first, the sun wasn't shining and second, I was hungry. I'm obviously a rookie runner because I went to the gym after church at lunchtime without having eaten anything since about 8:30 that morning. But more than anything, it was more challenging mentally yesterday.

Running is such a mental test. Especially running longer (for me) distances indoors. Miles 1 and 2 were just fine. At mile 3.5, I started feeling pretty tired (possibly the lack of food in my system). I stopped for a quick sip of water at miles 3, 4 and 5. I figured it was okay to take a quick water stop. I try to be invisible at the gym, so if I passed out by trying to not stop running and not drink water, people would really notice me flying off the treadmill scoring treadmill burn on my face. I don't want that.

Once I got to 5.5 miles, I knew I could finish it. My mental game got stronger and I told myself I could do it. Throughout the challenging 3.5 to 5.5 miles though, I tried to focus on the Harbor House. I thought about the young mothers who we're raising the money for and that I need to push through this for them. It helped.

I did it. I got to 6 miles and in pretty good time too. I don't have a goal time in mine for this race. I ran the half in 2 hours and 30 minutes last year, so I'd like to beat that as a personal challenge, but that's not on the front of my mind.

It felt amazing to come home and tell my husband that I accomplished the 6 mile goal. He had a huge smile on his face and congratulated me. Despite the challenges during the run, it feels so good to accomplish that goal. Maybe its sweeter knowing that it was difficult and yet I didn't quit.

I'm curious to see what next Sunday will bring.

Or Not

Well, crap. I ran 4 miles. Not 5. I tried my hardest. I think. I could really go on and on with excuses... we left work later than normal, I couldn't stop kissing my baby's adorable cheeks and that delayed me getting to the gym, I had to get home on time.... but I won't go there. I should be proud of 4 miles and I am. It's just a little annoying that I wanted to do five and didn't get there. Next time.

The run tonight felt good though. I hopped on one of the few treadmills left in the entire cardio area. I wouldn't say that I really had the choice machine. Everyone in the south metro goes to the gym at 5:45. I knew this, but I still like going at this time of day - just after work, not enough time to get cozy and stuck at home, but early enough to get home and relax before bed. I will not tell you what time I go to bed though. It's too embarrassing.

On my left was an older fellow drenched in sweat. On my right was a young guy who was also drenched in sweat. His what I assume to be girlfriend came up and talked with him for a bit similar to how I go and bug my husband while he's working out sometimes. Yes, ladies, he is mine. Back off. Heh heh. In front of me was this crazy guy. He was doing sprint intervals like a mad man. I have to think he was training for an upcoming soccer season (me too... more on that later!) the way he was working the speedometer. The highest I saw it go - yes, of course I was looking - was 11.1 mph. Just seeing that number took my breath away. I was hoping nobody looked at mine and saw 5.5 and laughed hysterically at my slow speed, but incredibly sweaty shirt. I blame the extra sweat on a packed gym. The hot, sticky air just seems to hang there. Ish.

Eventually, young sweaty guy on my right left and a girl about my age took his place. She was wearing a hot pink top and started her run pretty fast. She didn't stop. She kept going. Oh man, now I have to keep going too. I was so curious to see how fast she was running. I finally got the nerve to glance just long enough to see her speed: 6.3 mph. Oh. Come. On! Are you serious? Is everyone going faster than me? I think I saw her glance over at my treadmill too. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Yes, 5.5. You're better than me. Go away." But just as my bad attitude almost got the best of me, she quit! When she left briefly to get a cleaning cloth to wipe down the treadmill, I looked again to see how far she went. 3.77 miles. I was on 3.97. And then I went to 4. YES! I win! I win!

I am ridiculous. I know this. But these are my distractions. Maybe if she hadn't stopped I would have run 5. No, I'll quit blaming all these other people. I'll get 5 sooner or later.

Work + Play + Sleep... oh and then run!

Fridays come and I think "ahhhhh the weekend is finally here!" Sigh of relief. But then I remember that all week long while my husband I were working at our day jobs, the rest of our life goes on the backburner. It is really challenging to be a mom and work full-time. As much as I hated my job the weeks following my return from maternity leave, I've come to appreciate the adult interaction and love the education our son is receiving at his daycare center.

I hated my job after returning to work for a few reasons. First, 2 weeks before I actually gave birth (I worked up until the night I went into labor... I'm so sorry to all my co-workers who had to look at my extremely swollen face those last couple weeks... uff dah), my department announced a major reorganization. I was so disappointed when I found out that everything about my job as I knew it would change. I was feeling confident in my role on my team and a shake-up was not what a 38 week swollen-faced pregnant lady wanted. So, the next day, my new boss held a meeting to do introductions. Mine went a little something like this:

Hello, I'm Brianna. I'm having a baby in two weeks... hopefully sooner... and I've never done this type of work before.

I think I came across less than pleasant. Fortunately, I wasn't the only pregnant person on the team, so I had sympathy coming from the other girl at least. My first week back to work after maternity leave was a little rocky. I returned to a new director, a new manager, a new team where I only knew one person (the other pregnant girl actually and she was still on maternity leave for another couple weeks after me! How dare she!), and I also knew absolutely nothing about the type of work I'd be doing. I had just dropped my son off at daycare for the first time and this shake-up is what I had to return to. I hated it.

It has been a little over a year since that first day back. I have a much different attitude towards my job now. Working outside the home gives me an opportunity to continue challenging myself professionally, but it also allows my son to have a wonderful learning experience at daycare. He started at 13 weeks old dressed in little button-up jammies and drank many, many ounces of pumped breast milk throughout the day. Now at 16 months, he has group time, eats lunch with the other kids at a table, sleeps on a cot, eats with a spoon, dances, reorganizes the furniture, waves goodbye to his friends when we pick him up in the afternoon and makes us the cutest little gifts for all holidays. I love it. He's 16 months old and he has a room full of little friends. Adorable.

The challenge comes when we work all day, eat dinner, play for an hour, and then put the little guy to bed for the night. He plays so hard all day that he crashes at 7. He'll spin in circles for 15 minutes laughing his head off and then WAHHHH...... cranky. Time for bed. Lights out until 5 AM. There is no time for anything else. None. Work. Play. Sleep. Repeat. Five times. Friday... ahhhhh, sigh of relief. But not really.

Weekend: laundry laundry laundry, sweep, vacuum, dishes, grocery shop, see family, see friends, reconnect with my husband, get a haircut, get the oil changed, RUN.

It is ridiculously hard for me to find time to workout. I only have one kid. It should be easy, right? I know people who have 7 kids who find time to run. Get it together and just go do it. Your life isn't that insane. That's what I have to tell myself. But it feels insane sometimes.

I had the chance to go run tonight. It's Sunday night at 6:45 PM. Our evening opened up last minute and I asked my husband if he'd put the little guy to bed so I could go to the gym. He always says yes. I changed into my new knee-length running pants and a t-shirt (the same red t-shirt from that 4 mile run). On the 10 minute drive over the gym through the snow, I went back and forth between wanting to do another longer run or do a fast run and get the whole thing overwith. I still had to grocery shop after the gym. It wasn't until I got on the treadmill until I decided to do a fast 2 mile run.

This run kind of sucked. I'm not going to lie. I don't think I was totally mentally prepared for it and I had left my iPod at home. All I had was my phone, so I listened to some random Pandora station that didn't really do it for me. My feet kind of hurt and so did my calves. My lungs felt like they were working pretty hard, but not because I was really pushing myself. They were screaming to have me quit. I got to 1.55 miles and I turned the speed up to 6.5, which I will remind you is fast for me. Not an all-out sprint, but pretty fast. I ran for a minute and thought "holy crap, I'm going to die... I want to stop." I didn't. Thirty more seconds. I did it. Thirty more seconds. Done. Fifteen seconds. 1.85 miles. Seriously? Already? Nice. Okay, 30 more seconds. Whew... dripping sweat here. I hope the lady behind me is gone now because I probably look really awkward right about now. 1.95 miles. I'm so going to get to 2 miles. I'm. Almost. There. YES! 2 miles! Cooldown.

My run completely turned around. I was just not into the run at first, but finishing strong totally made my night. I left and headed over to Cub to grocery shop at 8 PM. I felt good... hungry, but good. I needed that time to just decompress from the busy weekend. Sure, I was doing my weekend chore (I secretly like grocery shopping. I just wish I could go not on the weekend or in the evening when so many others are there too.), but the run and being out alone kind of helps prep me for the week. I have my meals planned out and have enough pineapple to keep my son happy all week. Favorite food of all time.

Random post. I fit the run in this weekend among everything else on the to-do list. I needed it. And it felt great.

The Treadmill and I

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.

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!