Excuses, excuses

No excuses. It's an interesting phrase that gets tossed around in running - especially in conjunction with inspirational stories of overcoming adversity, disability and extraordinary circumstances. It's framed as - if the guy who lost a leg can run a marathon, what's your excuse? This person lost 100 pounds by running, sensible eating and the POWER OF GREYSKULL. Why can't you get it together?

PS: I want to be She-Ra

These stories, meant to be inspiring and empowering, can come off as stress-inducing or guilt-trippy. Especially if you're like me and find yourself clumsily falling into a shame spiral at a moment's notice.

But that's not the point - it isn't a contest of who has faced the biggest challenge and TRIUMPHED!!! but rather an individual, day to day quest to get a little better and a little stronger.

After the Bayshore Half Marathon over Memorial Day weekend, I found myself with the incredible pain, moving from site to site on my lower body. It started with knee pain from pre-Bayshore that subsided after I completely stopped running for two weeks. It then migrated to shooting pain in my hips, making sitting, laying, sleeping and of course RUNNING, out of the question. As I started physical therapy, it seems that lower back weakness and inflammation may be the real culprit. I've now spent a pretty penny on x-rays and PT co-pays and have missed out on the first half of summer running.

And the voice inside of me says: a little back pain and you can't run? Why aren't you cross-training more? Getting your diet in order?

Answer: I don't know.



So I've found myself nearly back at square one with running and weighing the most I have in about 5 years.

The good news is, my body hasn't forgotten everything. I'm able to run 3 miles pretty easily and I'm ready to start upping my distance to 4 or 5 miles for "long" runs and continue maintain one or two days of short running during the week.

As for my pace, well... that was never much to brag about to begin with. So in an effort to honor my body for its abilities instead of putting myself down for my limitations, I've boldly embraced the title of Pace Group Leader for 12:30 minute/mile (and up) in our Moms Run This Town group runs. Why fuss over how slow I am when I can help a new or slow runner feel welcome? I know how lonely the back of the pack can be, so the tortoises need to stick together!

Moms Run This Town Group Run 7/28/14

So now it's time to keep on keeping on, get back on the horse, cause it ain't over til the fat lady sings and this is where the rubber meets the road. 

(Are these cliches doing it for you? I could do this all day. Beggars can't be choosers, you know.)

Run like a slow animal is chasing you!

Yesterday was the 36th annual River Bank Run! It was also my first 25k race. Or... not. As my loyal 10 (being generous, more like 5) readers know, my spring training has been plagued by inclement weather, life stress and general low motivation. I struggled through the last weeks with the thought of running 15.5 miles on May 11. Sure, I had completed a half marathon in April, but I swore I would not run another race so unprepared in the future. So in the end, I took the easy/hard way out. As a ridiculously stubborn person who is hell-bent on pushing my limits, it took a lot to pull back - and it was the best thing! Instead of dreading yesterday and fretting about it all week, I approached the 10k race knowing with confidence I could finish it, would be able to walk straight today, and would not mess up my approaching marathon training.

The joy and sense of accomplishment that runners get is the #1 reason to do it. Not the t-shirts. Not the medals. Not the ability to eat and drink 1,500 calories guilt free. The 25k was hanging over me, weighing heavy on my mind and on my legs. So I decided to trade the sense of accomplishment of running my longest distance with bringing back the joy. Bring in 'da noise, bring in 'da funk, bring in 'da joy, so to speak. Dreading the race was keeping me from properly preparing. The thought that at 12.something min/miles the 25k would take 3+ hours was horrifying. Like that little girl from "The Ring" crawling out of your TV. "Psycho" shower scene. Severus Snape being a good guy. Yeah, that bad.

I went to the Race Changes booth and they just crossed off the "25" and replaced it with "10" on my bib and ensured that I'd be entered into the computer to change my race distance. I was able to trade in my 25k tech t-shirt for the LAST WOMEN'S MEDIUM 10k shirt. This is very important, as I told the woman that if I got and wore the 25k shirt, it would jinx me and I'd never finish a 25k. She looked at me like I was insane, but did not slap me (as I would have been tempted to do, if a woman was shrilly freaking out about a damn t-shirt). That was that. I'd run the 10k, just 6.2 miles confidently and hopefully smiling.

In short, the pre-race was great, seeing my Aunt Jean, Aunt Beth and cousin Justin who were running the 5k. We found Uncle Gary and my cousins Ross and Lauren who were competing in the 10k as well. I was so cheerful in the morning and on the ride there that Mike and Kari were genuinely concerned that it was a sign of the end of days. Luckily, by the time we reached our destination, I was back to my cranky morning self and was swearing in a church parking lot. The world made sense again.

The race was a little chilly with the wind on the river, but I race confidently, but not quickly. I was afraid to push it in the first half, not sure how I'd do in the last 3 miles. I'm glad I didn't go out too fast, as I've not done any speed work this season and would've had a tough time. I did, for once, have enough to kick during the half mile and smile for the finish line cameras, so I was happy with the finish. My only criticism of the finish line area is that they didn't have pretzels. I always want pretzels. If you organize a race, have pretzels. PLEASE.

The absolute best thing that came out of this race will be 12 months from now. With all the Helsen family members already at the race, we got an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful *awful* idea. Oh wait. That's the Grinch. This was just a wonderful idea. Next year, we'll round up as many of our 60+ members to enter the River Bank Run 5k for Mother's Day. Call it the Mother's Day 5k. Call it Forced Family Fun. Whatever you want. Whether you're a kid, a grandkid, married into the family, or just hang around the family of Ike and Dorothy Helsen, be at the River Bank Run next year. We'll have t-shirts. At least 15 people are already in. We've got some babysitters committed.  And we will run, walk and jog the 5k as a FAMILY. Kick ass, y'all.

That's it. I ran 6.2+ miles yesterday. Probably walked over 3, given how far away we parked. And it was great. And about 1/2 a mile from the finish, somebody had a sign that said Run like a slow animal is chasing you. I pointed at her, yelled, "HEY! That's ME! I'm that person!" and kicked it into gear. Pretty good little Saturday, if I do say so myself.

10k Results - Would have been a PR, had nature not called while I was at the John Ball Zoo water station.

Cousins! Check out Ross' sexy legs!

Fables... the grasshopper and the tortiose

My first experiences with road races were in the late 1980s or early 90s, when my dad started running 5k races. Now that I do the math, he was a lot closer to my current age than I'd like to admit publicly (maybe than he'd like me to admit as well). Those early Saturday mornings at the Snug Harbor Kick-Off to Summer,  Seaway Run or Roosevelt Park Days 5k are bit hazy, but I do remember my mom calling the front of the pack "rabbits." You know, those guys who run 17, 16, 15-something minute 5k races. They may or may not be Tiggers (you know, us bouncy folk), but they are certainly the rabbits - out there, at the front, winning the race.

As you've probably guessed, I'm not a rabbit. At least not as a runner. I've claimed to have the pace of a geriatric dairy cow, and no one has ever challenged me on this. However, this image brought to mind one junior high summer spent at Muskegon Civic Theater's Summer Children's Theater. We were putting on a production of a number of Aesop's (and other) fables including "Belling the Cat," "The Lion and the Mouse," "The Milkmaid and her Pail," "The Ant and the Grasshopper," and of course, "The Tortoise and the Hare."  

With these and several other skits, the small cast each had several parts. Several decades later, I don't remember all my parts, but two skits and two roles stand out in particular. One is the tale of the Ant and Grasshopper. The Ant was industrious and worked hard all summer, setting aside food for the winter. He was very sure to remind the Grasshopper (yours truly) multiple times that she should do the same, or she would have nothing to eat and would suffer a most terrible fate. To which the Grasshopper replied "I'd rather SING!!!" and then proceeded to tap dance and sing arias, sparkling antennae bopping along . I've been a spotlight hog and dork since way back. Having danced and sang all summer, when the cold and snow finally arrives (it must have been April in Michigan), the Grasshopper begs the Ant to share his food. In an act of  charity, she is promptly turned down and has a fabulous death scene. I believe it was my first and only death scene to date.

The other skit that sticks me with me is the story of the Tortoise and the Hare. My friend Jason played the Tortoise and had a great turtle costume. He spent the entire five minute scene plodding along the stage singing: 

"You've got to keep on, keeping on. That's how it begins. You've got to keep on, keeping on. Slow and steady wins." 

Jason (probably) won't be offended if I say how ridiculously cheesy it was. But so AWESOME.

We all know the story. The hare teases him, runs circles around him and eventually burns out. The tortoise wins through perseverance and patience.  

In the world of running and work, there is much to be learned from the ant, the tortoise, and yes - even the grasshopper. Successful people work hard, set goals and make steady progress. They recognize the pitfalls of starting out quickly and flaming out too soon. They know that luck favors the prepared (ha ha) and strive to be prepared.

Those back-of-the-packers like me know that no amount of perseverance will cause us to win a marathon. I run 12 minute miles. No amount of training and "keeping on" will bring me to the finish line, 26.2 miles away, in 2:40. The Rabbits are the Rabbits because they have long legs, the right genetics, but also the preparation of the ant and the perseverance of the tortoise. They are not Hares. 

But in our quest to improve our 5k, 10k or half-marathon times, better ourselves and further our careers, let's not forget once in awhile to chuck it all, throw on the tap shoes, the sequined antennae and burst forth with "I'd rather SING!!!" 

If I find actual pictures from Summer Children's Theater, I will  post them!

Here comes the singing Grasshopper!!!