T minus four days

Boston.

It's the biggest countdown there is in the month of April.  Well, unless you count that little wedding that is scheduled to happen on the other side of the pond.

People are excited, both for the big day and for me in general.  I definitely appreciate everyone's interest and support.  The question I think I've heard the most is, "Are you ready????"  At first, I would reply, "Not yet", which would precipitate a, "why not?  What do you mean?" and, well, it just went on forever.  I say "not yet" because that's my way of being present.

You know.  In the "now".

I am not running a marathon today, therefore, I don't NEED to be ready today.

Who knew I was so literal?  I think I've been working with engineers too long.

Needless to say, it got a lil' tiresome.  So, now when someone asks me, I just smile sweetly and say, "yes, thank you for asking."

What makes one ready?  Let's see:

From 12/1/10-4/14/11, I have logged +/- 700 miles. 

I have completed long runs of 18, 20 and 21.12 miles in the month of March, which, to me, is the biggest "peak" time for this particular race.

I tapered my mileage down sensibly.  My last "big" week was 56.5 miles.  That was followed by 41ish miles in week one of the taper and 30 miles in week two.  This week, I'll barely hit 20.

I'm going to bed a little earlier and getting up a little later.

I've enjoyed 15 minutes of daily meditation for the past week.  It's my time to relax, refresh and just breathe.

I know how I am getting there and how I'm getting home.  In a race with logistics like Boston, this is a VERY important thing to work out.  Life stress is total.  The last thing you need to be doing is expending energy on something like that.

I've exceeded my fundraising goal by well over $400, thanks to all of the generous people I know.

Those are all very good things.  But, I think the most important thing of all is to focus on enjoying the experience, first and foremost.  To put all the time and effort into something and then go into it with a negative attitude is both unwise and counterproductive.  The second thing is to acknowledge just how awesome of a thing this is.  In 2010, there were approximately 500,000 marathon finishers in the United States.  Doesn't sound like that many, does it?  Here is one occasion where I don't mind being a "statistic".  I'm proud to say I've finished two marathons in 2010.  I'm learning it's okay to be proud of yourself.  Not only is it okay, it's essential.

April 18th will come when it comes.  And that's perfect just the way it is. 

I'll be ready.  Don't forget to look for me.  I'll have this on:

Your friend,
#17116

In Praise of Pappy

The date is Monday, April 4th.  The 115th running of the Boston Marathon will happen in exactly two weeks from today.  People are still asking if they can donate to the NE Patriots Charitable Foundation on my behalf, which further reinforces my belief that there is so much goodness in the world.  Here is the link to my personal fundraising page:

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/cynthia-springford/2011-Boston-Marathon-NEPCF-Marathon-Team

However, that's not the best part about today.

Robert Philip Cunningham, Jr. was born on April 4, 1937.  He was born and raised in CT, served in the Air Force (for 3 years, 11 months, 10 days), and was an educator both in and out of the classroom for well over a quarter century. 

Robert was also known as Bob or, more affectionately, "Pappy".  I met him in the early to mid 80's when I was in junior high.  My parents had divorced shortly after grammar school.  My mother had been dating since my father moved out, so he wasn't the first person she brought home.  But, as it turns out, he was the last.

My initial reaction to him was less than positive.  For some reason, I had a bad vibe about him.  I remember being less than friendly toward him, which was definitely out of line with my personality.  However, he took it in stride, always treating me with respect and kindness.  Once he and my mother had been dating a while, we all took a trip down to New Jersey to see my maternal grandparents, as well as aunts, uncles and cousins.  This was the turning point in my perception of Bob.  I just remember all of my suspicion and angst melting away and, towards the end of our stay, impulsively embracing him. 

He won me over.

In August of 1986, he and my mother exchanged vows and became husband and wife.  His two children from the first marriage stood up there with my brother and me as they pledged to love, honor and cherish each other, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse.  It was a happy day for them, but also a happy day for me.  I gained a stepbrother, stepsister and, most importantly, a great stepfather.

I attended high school where my stepfather worked, first as a vocational director and then as an industrial arts/cabinetmaking/woodworking teacher.  Bob loved to teach and I believe his students loved him in return.  He also loved to create things out of wood and had amazing talent.  When my parents purchased new bedroom furniture, he made a tall shoe cabinet for my mother that matched the woodwork in their new set perfectly (yup, mom was like Imelda Marcos).  Every day from the time I was a freshman until I had a drivers license and car of my own, Bob and I rode to and from school together.  I used to put my makeup on the car since I never left enough time to do it before school.  He made a game out of swerving and hitting every pothole he could in order to "try and make me miss". 

But the most memorable part of our car time together was if, God forbid, I had the hiccups.  I would try to hide it from him since I knew what his remedy would be:  to scare the living s**t out of me when I least expected it.  The anticipation would kill me and I never quite knew when he would let out the scream that would practically stop my heart. 

It worked, though.  Every single time.

Bob was also a cigarette smoker.  This, coupled with years of inhaling sawdust and fumes associated with his profession, brought on a diagnosis of COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease).  He had less than 20% of his lung capacity available to him.  In the early 90's, he took an early retirement so that he and my mother could go and retire in Arizona, hoping the dry climate would be better for him.  And it was, for a while.  He lived on for another 14 years, sometimes existing more than living.  Two days before his physical death, he and my mother renewed their wedding vows, pledging their love and devotion to each other in the hospice facility where he would spend his remaining days.  They took him off of all machines and medications, making sure he was as comfortable as possible.  He took his last labored breath on Friday, October 5, 2007.  He was 70 years young.  I was supposed to run a half-marathon relay the next day with my friend, Jeremy; I was to run the first half and him the second.  I knew he would understand if I skipped it, but I decided to go.  I ran those 6.5 miles clutching a picture of my stepdad and mom in my hand.  That one was for Pappy.

It's been about three and a half years since Bob has been gone.  His presence is still very vivid to me and I think about him all the time.  I'm hardly ever sad when I remember him now because I don't think he'd want me to be.  He left behind a legacy of love, compassion and selflessness that allows him to live on as potently and viscerally as if he were still here in physical form.  At times, he was more than my stepfather.  He was my ally and my friend.  When I broke up with my boyfriend in 1993 (who I was convinced was "the one"), Bob's face was the first one I saw when I came in the front door.  He looked at me, said nothing, and held his arms open.  I immediately went into them and let out the tears I had been holding in.  He just held me as I cried and said nothing. 

I have such love and appreciation for what he taught me by the life he lived.  He demonstrated the closest thing to unconditional love that I've ever seen with my mother.  He adored her.  At times, when she and I would clash as mothers and daughters often do, I would try and see her through his lens.  And I would inevitably soften.  He just had that power and ability. 

There is a part of him in every marathon I run, since I know he never would have been able to run a step at the height of his illness.  I run for myself, first and foremost, but I run for him too.  I do for him what he was not able to do for himself.  His memory gives me such inspiration and fills me with strength.  If I begin to tire or question myself, I'll turn my thoughts to him.

Happy Birthday, Pappy.  I like to picture you now, residing in the non physical world, overflowing with life and love like you always did, creating beautiful things out of wood and breathing easily and fully with plenty of energy and vigor. 

No pain.  No sickness. 

You'll always be with me.

To Me, With Love

Dear Cyndi:

Hello, it's me.  Your oldest and dearest friend checking in.

I'm your Inner Being.  And it's time we had a little chat.

You see, I've been with you from the very beginning.  I was there for your first cry, your first steps, your first words. 

I'm that small, quiet voice deep down inside that you have to get really still to hear.  Sometimes, you might hear me.  Sometimes, it's just chatter. 

But, rest assured, I'm there and have been throughout your entire life.

And, speaking of life, boy, have you lived a lot of stuff.

There's been laughter and sadness, joy and tears, fear and courage, confusion and understanding.  I know you've had some rough patches.  Like that time your babysitter hurt you and you felt like you couldn't tell anyone.  But, I knew.  And I held the hand of that little girl who wasn't yet mature enough to make sense of it all. 

I watched you struggle as you experienced mental illness and divorce in your family.  You got knocked down and I picked you back up again.  I've seen you strive and work for people to love you; to notice you; to convince you of your worthiness.  Getting those good grades, winning those spelling bees, just trying to BE something special.

But, I never questioned it.  You've always been beautiful and worthy.  Special. 

And I just kept waiting.  Waiting for you to know it too.

You have gone from a 168 lb. person who hated exercise and, sometimes, herself, to someone who has lost excess weight along with the excess baggage.  Not only have you gotten thinner and healthier, but you have become an athlete who is on the verge of running her third Boston Marathon in four years.

So proud.  Can you feel it too, Cyndi?

Here's the thing.  I want you to celebrate YOU.  Last year, when you ran the Atlantic City Marathon, you dedicated each mile of the marathon to someone special that you knew.  You always like to involve yourself with other people.  You are a born teacher who is meant to help others.  But, there have been moments where you bury yourself in other people's lives and issues so you don't have to live your own.  You'll encourage others to be all that they can be, yet you doubt yourself.

No more.

This one's for you, girl.  Boston 2011 is all about you.  It's time to stand up and be proud of all you have become.  You are going to be your own inspiration this year.  Like I said, you've lived a lot of life.  At times, it seemed like the circumstances were less than ideal.

Yet, you survived.  You even referred to yourself as a survivor.

Well, it's not enough anymore to "just survive".  It's time to thrive.  You are a THRIVER.  There is nothing left to work, struggle or fight for.

Just let go. 
Relax. 
And let it come. 

Realize the fullness of all that you have wanted and created.  It's waiting for you.

There is nothing to prove and no expectations to meet.  You don't have to earn your worthiness, Cyndi.  You just have to claim it. 

It's time, don't you think?

I'm rooting for you.

With love,
Me

The Three T's: Training, Taper and Trust

On Saturday, a bunch of us who run for charityteams.org (six different charities managed by my friend, Susan Hurley) boarded a bus in front of the Doug Flutie statue at Boston College to take part in an organized 21 mile long run on the course.  We were dropped off in Hopkinton at the starting line of the Boston Marathon.  Other bigtime organizations were out in full-force as well, such as Team In Training (Leukemia and Lymphoma) and The Liver Foundation.    


Did you know that running for a charity totally ROCKS? 
Well, it does. 

Know why?

Because we get the rock star treatment.  We had a bus (equipped with a bathroom, mind you) chartered to take us out in style.  We had six different stops along the course just for us, complete with water, gatorade, m&m's, pretzels and other assorted goodies.  Not only that, but we had people along the route from Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham, Natick, Wellesley and Newton.

Cheering.
On a training run.
No joke.

There was even a "finish" line at the end of our run, drawn on the asphalt in chalk.  We were awarded hugs, high-fives, and beads after crossing.  It was pretty awesome. 

So, it's on, my friends. Last big long run is in the books:


http://connect.garmin.com/activity/75251682

Let the taper BEGIN!!!

For those that don't know what that means, I'll explain.

Tapering refers to the practice of reducing, or tapering off, exercise in the days just before an important competition (I heart Wikipedia).  Shorter distances require no more than several days to a week.  However, for a marathon, we're talking a period of two or three weeks.  Marathon Monday is on April 18th, which is 21 days from now.  Perfect time to start cutting back.

RunnersWorld has a awesome article that talks about the taper.  You can access it here:

http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-238-244-255-5958-0,00.html

The runner's first reaction to the news that they can reduce their volume after 15-20 weeks of hard training borders on utter jubilation. 

You mean I get to run less and sleep more?  Whoo hoo!

However, that feeling soon gives way to mild anxiety that can evolve into full-blown panic.  Why does this happen?

Because it's completely counterintuitive.  How can I cut back on my training so close to my big race and expect to do well?  Shouldn't I have to work even harder?  In "Lore of Running", by Tim Noakes, the importance of tapering is explained:

"This is necessary to allow full recovery of the shock-absorbing capacity of the trained muscles.  Recovery of this function becomes important beyond the marathon wall.  In contrast, too much rest before a shorter distance race may cause you to lose the leg speed necessary for optimum performance in races of up to 21 km.  But in the marathon, inadequate recovery of the shock-absorbing function of the muscles will have a more marked effect on your performance.  Perhaps the brain must also be adequately rested to ensure that it can continue to recruit the muscles appropriately once the pain of the marathon becomes increasingly severe." -- Page 621

In this day and age, you'd be hard pressed to find a coach or a training program that doesn't advocate tapering.  Scientific studies confirm that it does produce a dramatic improvement in performance. 

Ah, good then.  I'll rest.

Oh, but it's not that easy!

Have you ever heard the term, "idle hands are the devil's workshop"?  The less time you spend training, the more time you have to think about the fact that you're not training. 

And the more time you have to think about the fact that you're not training, the more time you have to invent all kinds of aches, pains and afflictions. 

And the more time you have to invent all kinds of aches, pains and afflictions, the more time you have to second-guess yourself.

And, the more time you have to second-guess yourself...

I think you get the point.  If this is resonating with anyone, know that you're not alone.

The best thing that runners, particularly first-time marathoners, can do right now is simply relax and focus their energy and attention on enjoying the extra free time, knowing that they have built a strong foundation and that the bulk of the "work" is done.  Your thoughts are just your thoughts and you don't have to latch on to every single one of them.  Flood your mind with positive reinforcement ONLY.  If you'd like additional reassurance, talk to other people who have run one or more marathons.  The camaraderie in our sport is pretty incredible.  Runners love to help other runners.  Take advantage of that. 

Finally, it has been said that, "The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare".  Perhaps we can throw "and taper" in there as a post-script.

We've trained.  Now we taper.  And we trust.


     

The Lure of "Lore"

When I attended the two day RRCA (Road Runners Club of America) Coaching Certification last August, two books were recommended to us by the instructors:  Jack Daniels Running Formula and Lore of Running by Tim Noakes.  Last month, I was thumbing through my coaching manual and came upon my chicken scratch, recommending these texts.  Within minutes, I had ordered both on Amazon.com.

They arrived at my doorstep a few weeks ago.  Jack Daniels book was a fraction of the size of "Lore", the latter being almost two inches thick and containing 930 pages (which includes the index).  Normally, I am the kind of person who tackles the easiest stuff first, thinking I'll feel more accomplished and motivated to get to the big ones.  This time, I decided to reverse my strategy.  I started with "Lore".

Let me say that just toting this book around is a workout.  I feel stronger just lugging it to and from my house everyday.  I was actually using it for bicep curls the other day. 

Feel the burn baby.  Oh yeah.

I'm not in a position to review the book yet as I'm only (yeah, I know, "only") on page 411.  However, I don't have to be finished with it to say that it is uber comprehensive.  Some of the finer points I've noticed thus far:

1. Part I deals with the Physiology and Biochemistry of Running.  The first chapter is entitled Muscle Structure and Function.  Here, you will read all about Myofibrils, Sarcomeres, Myofilaments and other big words that you'll probably see on "Jeopardy".  This is the shortest chapter, containing only 19 pages.  As Noakes says, "the bulk of this chapter was devoted to describing how muscles are made up, how they contract to produce movement, the different muscle fiber types that exist, and how this influences athletic ability and perhaps longevity and susceptibility to various diseases".  And you thought it was just about putting one foot in front of the other.
2. Chapter Two delves into Oxygen Transport and Running Economy.  Here, the author focuses on the relationship between oxygen transport through the body and exercise performance.  It's over three times as long as chapter one.  This was about the time where I decided to read it with a highlighter, coloring the segments that I thought were most important to remember.  I'm not a detail person, as a general rule; that is to say that I tend to "glaze over" when things get technical.  However, it's important that I absorb as much of this as I can, so I'm taking it seriously.  Sometimes that means reading a sentence two or three times.  I can handle it.
3. Next, we read about Energy Systems and Running Performance.  Having been employed in the fitness industry for over 17 years, not all of this information was new to me.  I had to learn about how the body uses food in my A&P class.  I also had to learn about carbohydrate, fat and protein in order to decode food labels for my clients.  But, Noakes does a great job of reviewing the important aspects of exercise-related metabolism specific to athletes. 
4. Temperature Regulation During Exercise wraps up the first segment of this book.  It's 80 pages long.  And just so you know, I am not reading the large type edition.  It's 80 pages of what looks like 8 or 9 point font.  This chapter deals with factors that affect heat balance and how to prevent heat-impaired performance.  Noakes also explains the difference between heatstroke and other heat-related disorders such as heat cramps, heat exhaustion and exercise-associated collapse.  Truly, I didn't know much about this topic.  However, he confirms what most runners know already:  it's not so much the heat as it is the HUMIDITY. 
5. Currently, I'm in the middle of Part II.  This is where you get into Training Basics, which is easier reading.  It's also the part where, I suspect, most people reading this book will want to start with.  Chapter 5 tells the reader how to develop a training foundation, which lends itself nicely to the novice runner.  The author does give you permission to skip this part if you want more specific training details for 10 K's, Half-Marathons, Marathons and Ultramarathons, but I didn't.  This book is a challenge.  I can almost hear it whispering, "come on, I dare you.  Read me cover to cover."  I've never been one to resist a dare.  I'm in the middle of Learning From the Experts, which is the title of chapter 6.  And, am I learning a lot.
   
   So, there you have it.  Even if I stopped reading it right here and now, I can honestly say that it was well worth the $19.33 that I paid for it.  The tagline on the front cover says it all, "For the serious runner or coach, this book is a must." -- Runner's World   

Besides, knowledge is power.  That is the lure of "Lore".

The Beep

Before I go into my combo "ramble/rant", I'll share with you the links from my last three runs:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/73723613

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/73839463

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/74048319

Now over 2.5 months into my Low Heart Rate Training Experiment, the goal being to stay around or below 146 bpm, I'm starting to notice a significant difference.  My HR is lower and my pace is faster, most of the time, which was the whole point of doing this in the first place.  I'm encouraged.

That's all I'll say in that regard, letting the data provided speak for itself.

Now, back to our story.

The first link I shared with you was from my Friday run.  In Massachusetts, we experienced unseasonable warmth that day, with temps hovering in the upper 60's.  Talk about giving winter a good ol' kick in the keester. 

Buh Bye, Old Man Winter.  Don't let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya.

There was one caveat; we had winds gusting in excess of 35-45 mph.  So, I got to run in shorts and a tank top, which was AWESOME, while getting pelted by the occasional acorn or branch flying off a tree.

Not as awesome.  But, overall, it really was a great day and felt good to be out.

As I walked it in, enjoying my cool-down, I hear the sound of a horn beeping.  I did have headphones on, but I usually keep the music low enough so I can hear what's going on around me. 

This car didn't beep once. 
Or twice. 
Try three times.  Yeah.

I was pretty sure it was someone trying to get my attention (I had run from work and was making my way back to the fitness center, walking up the steps) after the first and second beep, but was completely convinced by the third.  I'm a pretty easygoing person most of the time, however, I've never appreciated "the beep shoutout" when I'm out running.  Granted, I was walking it in at this point, but I was still focused on my breathing, heart rate and movement.  I don't enjoy "the beep".  It ranks right up there with the catcalls and whistles that I've occasionally received from randy male motorists in the dead heat of summer when I'm out running in the most minimal amount of clothing allowed that won't get me arrested for indecent exposure.

Why am I bringing this all up now?

Today, I'm at my post (the front desk at the fitness center) and one of our members comes in, who I've known for a while.  We exchange pleasantries and he says, "boy, are you in your own little world when you're running."  I said, "what makes you say that?" 

At this point, he tells me that he was the one who kept beeping at me and I didn't even notice or hear it.

Oy.

I explained to this gentleman that, yes, I DID in fact both notice and hear it, but I don't enjoy "the beep" because my run is my time and it disrupts my focus (not to mention that half the time it scares the crap outta me).  He sort of "half apologized", which I waved off, letting him know that it was no big deal but, for future reference, refraining from "the beep" would be ever so nice because I'll just ignore you anyway.

Don't get me wrong, here.  I am a pretty friendly person who enjoys the company of others.  If I run into someone I know at a restaurant or in a grocery store, I have no problem stopping to chat for a few moments.  That's different.

That's not "the beep".

So, if you're driving down the road and happen to see me coming with my sunglasses on and bouncing blonde ponytail, do me a favor. 

Just drive on by.

You can give me a little wave.  Maybe I'll see you and wave back.  Maybe I won't.

But, for the love of Pete, please refrain from "The Beep".

Numerology

I was on facebook this morning (as is my daily custom) and noticed that one of my friends put his Boston Marathon Bib # in his status update.

Which prompted me to go directly to the BAA home page. 

Do not pass go; do not collect $200.

Well, I had to see if I could find mine too!

Sure enough, there I was:

BIB #17116

Whenever I run a race, I always try to assign some kind of significance to my race # (i.e. my year of birth, date of birth, etc.).  It's just one of those little rituals I have.  Keeps things interesting.  Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn't.  This time it worked quite well:

1+7+1+1+6 = 16


1+6 = 7


Lucky Number Seven.

Not only does this happen to be my favorite number (and has been for years), this will be my 7th marathon.

You heard me.  SEVENth.

I think it's a good omen.

Victory shall be mine.  :-)

Random Musings on a Friday

In no particular order of importance

I always seem to forget to put body glide on the, ahem, "chafe zones" before I go out for a run.  Until I get into the shower and the water hits me.  Then, I remember.

My co-worker reminded me today that the sun is always out.  It's just that sometimes it's obscured by the clouds.  I think it's a great analogy that we can apply to our own lives as well.

I'm a dog person.  I love dogs.  Unless they decide to chase after me while I'm running, barking loudly.  Normally, the owner isn't too far behind and they follow it up with a, "don't worry, he's friendly".  I think that is supposed to make me feel better.  But it hardly ever does.

For those that don't know me well (or don't have the nerve to tell me), I have a tendency to come off like a know-it-all.  Somewhere along my physical trail, I picked up the notion that being right is super important and pride is everything.  I've become aware of it in myself, but accept it for what it is.  And I keep it in check whenever possible.

I am a very outgoing and friendly person who does well in social situations.  Yet, running has taught me the value of being alone; the joy of solitude.  I cherish that time when it's just me, myself and I.  And I don't plan on giving it up anytime soon.

Typically, I get along with men better than I do with women (two of my best friends are male), however, I'm learning I don't trust some men easily.  It's not all men.  Just some.

I don't enjoy small talk.  And when it involves the weather, I enjoy it even less.  However, not everyone likes sports, the same kind of music or has the same interests.  But, we all experience the weather.  So, I guess I understand.  And perhaps, I'll make a more concerted effort to enjoy it.

When someone prefaces a statement with, "To be honest with you", does that mean that they're lying all the other times they leave it out?

I say, "Oh, Crikey" a lot; if I drop something, if I stub my toe, etc.  I don't know why.  I'm not from Australia or anything.  But, I guess it's better than dropping F Bombs all over the place.

Even though I dislike shopping, I love being a chick.  The only caveat is I think it'd be great to pee standing up like men do.  Moreover, it would be SO much more convenient.  But, that's not reason enough to switch teams.

I put ketchup on eggs.  And roast beef sandwiches.  Some people find this odd.  I just think it tastes better that way.  

Things don't matter to me as much as they used to.  That is to say, I don't get my knickers in a twist about every little thing.  I used to take a lot of things personally.  Now I find myself relaxed and, sometimes, smiling for no reason.  I think I like that better.

I can wiggle both of my thumbs. 

Do you ever wonder why we have to hear about or experience tragic events in order to get perspective?  Why can't we have it when we're happy?  Where does it go and why do we need something like that to get it back?

I got rid of a couple things yesterday.  That may not seem like a big deal, but to me, it is.  I hold on to "stuff" a lot longer than I need to.  Letting go is so liberating, even if it seems scary at first.  Once you do it, you wonder why you kept it for so long in the first place.

Finally, I'm really starting to learn how to be more flexible with training, relationships and life in general.  It's not procrastination; it's just prioritization.  Do the things that you can do and give it the time and attention it deserves.  If you just don't have it in you that day, then it can wait.  It'll still be there tomorrow. 

TGIF!

WARNING...

** THIS BLOG CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT.  VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. **

I ran my first 18 miler of the marathon training cycle yesterday in the rain and wind.  Check out da stats:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/71681106

And I am no worse for the wear.  Well, except for this:

Pretty sweet, eh? 

Normally, I slather body glide or vaseline on my toes to avoid such things.  This time, I elected to be footloose (pun intended) and fancy free.  So, I guess you could say I brought it on myself.

Maybe, instead of taking donations for the New England Patriots Charitable Foundation, I should fundraise for a pedicure.  If they can have charities such as "Save the Whales", why not "Save Cyndi's Toenails"?

Truthfully, it didn't really hurt.  In fact, I didn't even notice it until I started my cool-down walk and noticed the telltale red splotch on my brand new Saucony Ride Running Shoes.  I think I was more bothered about staining the new kicks than I was ripping my toe open.  Thankfully, Dawn Dishwashing Detergent not only gets grease out of your way, but it does the same for bloodstains on shoes too.

Even the hot water from the shower didn't sting.  I must be getting tougher.  After surveying the damage, I decided that clipping the toenails were probably in order.  In the process, the toenail to the left of the bloody one just came right off.  All in one neat, little piece.

Am I grossing you out?

I never had aspirations to be a foot model, so I'm not worried.  And, as long as my feet do what they are supposed to, which is run for a REALLY long time, that's all that matters.

Besides, I've always said toenails are for sissies.
 

Wacky Weather Wednesday

"When famine or plague comes to the land, or blight or mildew, locusts or grasshoppers, or when enemies besiege them in any of their cities, whatever disaster or disease may come..." -- 2 Chronicles 6:28

Yesterday, Wednesday, was my "speedwork" day (i.e. intervals run at or slightly faster than projected marathon pace).  Normally, I work the later shift at work and have been doing my workout in the early to mid morning hours.  My co-worker is on vacation for the month of March (I know what you're thinking--how do I get a gig like that?) so I've been relegated to the 6-2 shift.

I also teach Spinning every Wednesday for an hour at lunchtime.  Typically I use it as a post-run recovery to just lightly spin the legs.  I like being freshest for the run workout, because it's more specific to what I'm doing (marathon training).  Since I'm a little backwards this month (no comments, please), I decided to run longer and slower after work instead and switch the speedwork to Fridays.

I enjoyed the warmth and view of the sunshine from my window at work, noticing temps were in the upper 30's and lower 40's.  Sounds like pretty good running weather for early March, wouldn't you say?

Except for this one, simple fact:  I live in New England.  And, as they say:  if you don't like the weather in New England, wait a minute.  Because it's going to change.

This statement never held truer than it did yesterday.

I got home around 2:45 and noticed it had gotten cloudy outside.  The forecast did mention the possibility of scattered showers in the afternoon, so I can't really feign ignorance.  I shared my ambivalence with my husband about the whole "inside or outside thing".  He suggested outside, saying I can just dress for the conditions.  After a little more hemming and hawing, I decided to dress for outside, opting for a dri-fit baseball hat instead of the normal headwrap I wear...just in case we were in for a little rain.  I even put my sunglasses on the top of my head.  You know...just in case.

What can I say?  I'm a "glass is half full" kind of gal.


And, off I went.

About five minutes into my run, the wind picked up and there was some schmootzy stuff flying in the air (yes, schmootzy is a technical weather term).  Could have been rain...could have been sleet...could have been a mix...I wasn't quite sure.  In fact, I ran by the elementary school on Main Street and, after exchanging pleasantries with the crossing guard, I said, "is it raining or snowing?  This is bizarre!"  He chuckled and I kept going.


Well, wonder no more.  The sky got darker.  Schmootz turned into flurries.  Flurries turned into snowflakes.  Windy turned into gusty.  Snowflakes turned into wet, heavy snow that came down like cotton balls from the sky.  It was like freakin' Armageddon out there.  The only thing that was missing was the locusts. 

At this point, I'm about 1.5 miles away from my house and I can barely see.  Not only that, but I have to turn my face sideways in order to avoid being pelted from the oncoming onslaught of the super duper mutant schmootz flying around.

I was wet, cold and a little cranky.  Okay, more than a little.  My "glass" was starting to look a whole lot different than it had earlier.

Which prompted this recurring thought:  This is the last time I ever listen to my husband about anything.  He's the one who encouraged me to go outside in the first place.  Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Of course, it wasn't his fault but, blame always feels better, doesn't it?  It's amazing how our default mode of thought can be so irrational.  After mentally kicking the poor soul around for a few more minutes, I realized how silly the whole thing was.  I was already out there, after all.  Why not just accept the weather for what it is and keep running?  It was either run or walk home.  Even with the headwind, I could get home faster if I ran.  Shortly after that decision, I noticed the cotton balls gave way to flakes, and the sky went from smoky to light gray.  A few minutes later, the flakes became flurries and there was a beam of filtered sunshine streaming through the storm clouds.

And, then it just stopped.

The sky became blue and the sun came out.  JUST as I approached the street I live on.


Instead of turning left and heading for home, I continued along the main road, turning up my tunes and sliding my sunglasses on my face.  What started off as a cold, uncomfortable run ended up being bright and sunny.  It was almost like getting a reward from Mother Nature for staying the course and sticking it out, even if it wasn't the best conditions going in.

It's kind of a lot like life sometimes, isn't it?  Sometimes, we're faced with a situation that appears to be negative.  But, if we just shift our perspective and see it as an opportunity for growth, it ends up being a blessing in disguise.  I couldn't change the weather, but I could change my thoughts about it.

Hmmmmmm.  Mother Nature.

Maybe she's not so bad after all.

 “Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, when our mother Nature laughs around;

When even the deep blue heavens look glad, and gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?”

-- William Cullen Bryant


** FUNDRAISING UPDATE**

I'm pleased to announce that I've raised +/- $695 for the New England Patriots Charitable Foundation, which establishes scholarship funds for youth that can't afford to go to college.  I'm only $55 away from meeting my goal.  If you are a fan of education, football or running, please visit my page.  Every little bit helps:

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/cynthia-springford/2011-Boston-Marathon-NEPCF-Marathon-Team

Mother Nature, why hast thou forsaken us???

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Boy, they aren't kidding.

I don't know the details, but SOMEONE or SOMETHING in the Northeast really got on Mother Nature's last nerve. 

Don't look at me; I sure didn't do it.

I know it's hard to believe but we actually got more SNOW on Sunday.  Imagine that???  Because, apparently, we haven't had enough. 

Somewhere along the line, we forgot that we are "Hearty New Englanders".  Aside from skiers and snowboarders, I think the majority of us is waving the white flag, offering sweet surrender and begging for mercy.

Yesterday was my long run day.  I had a 14 miler on my schedule.  I did check the weather forecast ahead of time, which was calling for 1-4" of snow overnight, ending early Sunday morning.  So, I did my normal easy six miler on Saturday, seeing no reason for changing things around.  I mean, really.  After the winter we've had, 1-4" is nothing.

And that's true.  However, I woke up to well over 5" of snow on Sunday morning and there was no end in sight.  In fact, it snowed until 11:30 a.m. before it decided to beat feet outta here.

Sigh.

Truly, at this stage in the game, there is really no point in getting upset about it.  As I've mentioned in prior posts, we can't control the weather (and it's abundantly clear that those tv weatherpeople aren't very good at it either).  Running 14 miles takes energy.  Do I really want to squander it by bitching and complaining about more snow?

Nope.

So, embracing the whole, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" philosophy, I got myself dressed and headed over to the gym. 

Yes, the gym.  Where the treadmills are. 

Is it my preference to run in place for over two hours?  No.  But, I had to make the best of what the current reality was.  And, my current reality was snow covered roads that probably weren't very safe to run on.

So, I went, armed with my big bottle of gatorade, iPod and sweat towel.  I did my 14 miles. 

And I'd do it again if I had to.

Because, some days, you just have to do the best you can with what you have.  In other words, make the most of the cards you're dealt.  Because, a full house or a straight flush is just around the corner.

I promise.

Today is February 28th.

Spring begins in 21 more days.  This too shall pass.  It always does.

In the meantime, I'll train however I'm able and make the most of the options I do have. 

It can't snow all the time.  Eventually, even Mother Nature will want to get a suntan.

Keep the faith, peeps...

One of these things doesn't look like the other

This time last year, I had four races under my belt:  Hangover Classic 10K, Boston Prep 16 Miler, Bradford Valentine 5 Miler and the LOCO Half at the Hamptons.

This year, I have NADA.

That's right.  Haven't...raced...a step.

Don't get me wrong.  I've been running.  I've done intervals.  I'm "training".

But, this time last year, I was still chasing that "elusive BQ" time.  This time last year, I had an agenda.

This year, I only have to collect my reward:  show up in Hopkinton on Monday, April 18th and just "do my thang".

I'm taking it one day at a time, here.  I wake up every day and look at my "schedule".  I think about what I want to do that day.  If it coincides with the schedule, great.  If not, I've managed to be okay with that too.  I'm making it up as I go along; flying by the seat of my pants, if you will.  Yesterday, I was only supposed to do 10 miles.  Instead, I did 12.5.

Stuff like that.  Spontaneity.

This is new for me.  Not only do I feel like I have to follow a training schedule to the letter but, I'm also a recovering "control freak" who always feels like she has to be "doing something".

This year, I just want to be Cyndi the runner.

And I think I like it.

I don't feel a need to "prove myself" or "accomplish anything".  I still have residual ambivalence about racing.  I'm still separating what I want to be from what I think I'm supposed to be.  And I think I'm doing very well.  There is plenty of time to figure it out.  And I don't have to try so hard.

From now until Boston, I'm just planning on going with the flow and making each run as enjoyable as it can be.

You won't be finding me in any race results on coolrunning...at least for now.

Just keep an eye on the roads.

Look for the bouncing, blonde ponytail.

And the look of contentment.

That'll be me.

Six and a half weeks...

...since beginning my low HR experiment (see my post about "to get faster run...slower?).  I ran 8 miles outside on an unseasonally warm day (by February in New England standards) and hit the motherload:  an average HR of 146 bpm.  Here are my garmin stats:

Great Eight by cyndilou1971 at Garmin Connect - Details

I am feeling good about running slow.  I think it's making a positive impact on my conditioning.  I can't wait to see how it affects my race paces.  Fun!

Two months and one day until the Boston Marathon.  I'm feeling good, building a kickass aerobic base and am looking forward to the next run whenever and wherever it is.

Calling All Generous People

I am pleased to announce that I am a part of the 2011 New England Patriots Charitable Foundation Boston Marathon Team.

I think I've mentioned in the blog once, twice, or fifty times, that I had a dream to qualify for Boston.  I had run it twice for charity (2008, 2009), but decided that I wouldn't run it again until I could be there "for real" as a BQ'er.

That dream came true for me on May 30, 2010 at the Vermont City Marathon when I crossed the finish line in 3:43:30, which was 2 minutes and 29 seconds faster than the 3:45:59 required for the F35-39 age group.

When registration opened on Monday, October 18th, 2010, I got right on my computer and registered.  I paid the $130 entrance fee, submitted my qualifying time and, voila, I was in.

Easy Peasy.  No muss, no fuss.  I was in on my own merits.  I didn't need the help of a track club or a charity to get me a #.  I got it myself.


Sooooooooooooo, why am I running for a charity?  Why am I raising money when it's not a requirement?

First of all, I think it's great to raise money just because, well, you want to.  I only need to come up with $750, compared to the $3,250 minimum that is mandated by the BAA Charities.  Secondly, I heart my New England Patriots and I think it'd be a wicked BLAST to be on their marathon team.  I'm going to run it anyway.  Why not align myself with the best football team in the country?

(Sidebar:  Yes, I realize that the Green Bay packers won the Superbowl.  I still think the New England Patriots are the best team in the country.  This is my blog and I can say whatever I want.)

Lastly, I think anyone can deepen their running experience by bringing meaning and purpose to their races, whether they are "qualified" or not.  What better way to give back than to do something that I love doing?

And now, we have come to the part where I am going to throw myself at your feet, begging and pleading for your money.

Okay, maybe I'm being just a TAD dramatic.

But, I'd love it if you would visit my fundraising page:

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/cynthia-springford/2011-boston-marathon-nepcf-marathon-team?utm_source=share&utm_medium=gigya&utm_campaign=gigyaeua&utm_content=mainpage&sms_ss=facebook&at_xt=4d4fff1b470cc498%2C0

Check it out. 

And donate...but only if you feel like it. 

Thanks for your support.  Whether it be in word or deed, it's acknowledged and appreciated.

“Our deepest need is for the joy that comes with …knowing we are of genuine use to others.”

-- Eknath Easwaran

Running to the beat of my own drummer

On Sunday, January 23rd, I was supposed to run the Boston Prep 16 Miler Road Race in Derry, NH.  This is a "moderately challenging" course that I've enjoyed (?) running since 2007.  It's like a tradition.  I wouldn't dream of missing it.  I sign up for it every year in advance for fear it'll be sold out and I'll be S.O.L.

This year was no different, save one exception.

I...played...hooky.

Seriously???  Who are you and what have you done with Cyndi?  Skipping a pivotal race in your Boston Marathon Preparation is just, well, it's just lazy!  And irresponsible!!!  


Why did I skip it?

I hadn't slept well the night before, which I normally don't before marathons and/or biggish type races.  I could have gone out there and gotten through it, though.  Lord knows I've run marathons on inadequate sleep, let alone a 16 miler.  The temps were ridiculously cold, which they normally are in January, but we're talking zero temps at the start, only warming up to single digits by the time we hit the finish line.  Even that didn't really deter me.  I have plenty of layers and have experience running in extreme cold and heat.

You know why I didn't go?

Because I just didn't feel like it.

That's right, friends.  I just didn't wanna.  In my estimation, I wasn't quite "ready" to race.  My running at the tail end of 2010 was so sporadic and thus, I don't feel I am where I need to be for this particular event.  And, to be brutally honest, I didn't want to put myself through the stress of my own expectations.  You see, I'm cognizant of the fact that I still have a teeny, weeny, itty, bitty, tendency to care about what others think of my race times.  I'm making great strides towards being secure and confident in my abilities, but, on that Sunday morning, the thought of going out there in an attempt to match or better my 2010 time just made me cringe.  It woke me out of a sound sleep at 1 a.m. and beat me into submission.  I was even having dreams about oversleeping, missing the race, going to the wrong place, etc.  When the time came to get up, I shut off my alarm and sent my pal, Ted, a text to let him know I wouldn't be making it to the lovely town of Derry that morning.

Instead of spending 2-2.5 hours in single digit temps, I drove over to the gym around 11 a.m. and spent about 2 hours on the treadmill. 

And I didn't care.

I didn't care what that potentially did to my "real runner" status.  As I ran on that machine with my tunes, I heard all of the things that other runners have said to me or other people in the past.  Statements such as:

Real runners don't run on the treadmill.  Ever.
Real runners don't run with an iPod or headphones.  This makes you a fraud.
Real runners definitely don't run on a treadmill while WEARING an iPod.

I can get really pissed off at the voices.  Don't they have anyone other than me they can torment??? 

But, this time, I appreciated them.  They made me realize that I didn't have to define myself by or listen to any of it.  Furthermore, what I do and how I train is no one's business but my own.  I'll run how, when and where I want to.  What does it matter what other people think and say?  This is my life.  Not theirs.

Who am I doing this for, anyway?  (Hint:  any answer other than "myself" is the wrong one.)

Later that day, I talked to my pal, Ted, who ran the race (in a time of sub 2 hours, which is a PR for him as well as a stellar performance) and shared some of these concerns with him.  As he always does, he listened, offered me great insight and supported me.  He encouraged me to be kind to myself and follow my intuition as well as relax and let go of all this should have, could have, would have stuff.  He reminded me to trust my training, the universe and myself. 

Since then, I feel like a big weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.  I realize my choice to stay in bed that day and skip the race was my rebellion against these flawed premises and cognitive distortions.  It was the ultimate act of defiance; a big old f**k you to the voices both inside and outside of my head.  Who cares?  At the end of the day, who really gives a @#*%?  This is something I do for fun and health.  This is not going to turn into something stressful. 

I refuse to put myself through the mental gymnastics anymore.  I just simply won't allow it.

It's time for this girl to march, or shall I say "run", to the beat of my own drummer.  To live the way I want to live, to do what I want to do, to race when I feel like racing and run when and how I want to run.

Because this isn't about the "elite runner", it's perceived "standard" or the voices.

This is about ME.

It's all about me.

In closing:

"It took me a long time not to judge myself through someone else's eyes." 
-- Sally Field

and...

"We probably wouldn't worry about what people think of us if we could know how seldom they do." 
-- Olin Miller

Whining about the weather

Weather is a great metaphor for life - sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, and there's nothing much you can do about it but carry an umbrella.  ~ Terri Guillemets

It's January 19th, 2011.

Also known as Winter.

In New England.

This time of year, it's cold.  And it snows.  Sometimes a lot. 

I know, big shocker.

We had such an event around these parts yesterday.  The television meteorologists masquerading as ambassadors of goodwill forecasted 2-4" of snow in and around the Boston area.  There was a possibility for heavier amounts of precipitation north and west of the city.  However, temperatures were on the rise and it would all turn to rain sometime around noon.

I had the early shift yesterday, working 6 a.m. to 2 p.m.  The snow didn't start to fall until I was about 10-12 miles from work, so I had a joyously uneventful commute in.  I figured most of the hoopla would be going on while I was inside, working and warm.  As I looked out the window, it became apparent to me that this wasn't stopping anytime soon.  In fact, it almost seemed to intensify.  At one point, the snowflakes were so huge, they resembled golf balls falling from the sky.

And everyone couldn't stop talking about it.  From the time it started until the time I left to go home, everyone that passed by my area had to talk about the weather.  Comments like, "it's so nasty out there!" to "when's it supposed to stop?" came in an endless stream of chatter.  I kept hearing daunting warnings from folks such as, "the roads are awful" and "you better leave early or else you'll never get home".

I'm pretty resilient as a general rule but, I had to admit, I was letting it get to me.  I don't enjoy small talk.  Most of the time, it's just white noise to me.  And, when it involves the weather, I enjoy it even less.

I live 37 miles away from my place of employment.  On a good day during off peak hours, it takes me 40-45 minutes to get from point A to point B.  Pretty reasonable, if you ask me.  However, throw some snow, ice or even rain into the mix and, well, you can just double, triple or even QUADRUPLE that travel time.

Succumbing to the negativity, I began surfing all of the popular weather sites, reading the gloom and doom about dangerous, icy roads and reports of spinouts and accidents everywhere.  What had started off as 2-4" of predicted snow now became 4-8".  I get that meteorology isn't an exact science, but that seemed like a substantial difference to me.  I had the doppler radar up and running, hitting the refresh button every five minutes to see if that snow/rain line had moved any closer.

I became a woman obsessed.  And a little cranky too.

I started my workday as a relatively normal, well-adjusted person.  I was on the verge of ending it as an escaped mental patient.

Finally, I went out, started up the red car and got her cleaned and ready to travel.  I worked myself up in a panic to the point where I ended up just getting mad.  So what if the roads are bad?  So what if it takes me two hours to get home?  I'm not the only person who has to get someplace, after all.  There are a lot of other drivers out there who will be in the same boat as me.  It is what it is.  I'll get there when I get there.  What other choice do I have?

I got in the car, put it in gear and headed home.  It was 2 p.m. when I left work.

I reached my destination, home, one hour and 37 minutes later.  Safe and sound.

Yes, it was slow going.  Yes, it was slippery.  But, it wasn't impossible.  As long as you go slow and pay attention to the other motorists who may not be employing common sense, everything will be fine. 

So, in the final analysis, why do we make such a big deal out of things that, well, aren't really a big deal?  Is it fear?  Maybe.  Control issues?  That's also possible.  Regardless, it doesn't change the current reality.  It had been snowing for hours.  Had it started a few hours before I left for work, perhaps I would have made the choice to stay home.

But, it didn't.  And I went.  That's the reality.  Instead of should have, could have, would have and railing against what is, acknowledging and accepting things as they are seems more productive and practical.  Folks, there are certain things in life that we have no control over.  If you can't affect a change one way or the other, why exert energy in trying?  Parents, think about the power struggle you have with your children about cleaning their rooms.  And you want to take Mother Nature on????

Please.

I admit.  Sometimes, I sweat the small stuff.  Sometimes, I forget what's really important and become a raving lunatic.  Sometimes, I don't make creative use of my emotions, knowledge and time.

But, I get over it.  I always do.

It's January.  It's cold.  And it snows.  I've lived in this part of the country for 31 years.  This weather pattern is not news to me.  Beyond picking up and moving to another part of the country, there really isn't anything I can do about it.  Except, I can focus by taking a deep breath, relaxing and going with the flow. 

Sure beats whining about the weather.

Wherever you go, no matter what the weather, always bring your own sunshine.  ~ Anthony J. D'Angelo

Age is an issue of mind over matter

If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. ~Mark Twain


As some of you may remember, I turned 39 on 12/21/10.  This would now qualify me as a member of the "39 Forever" club, provided there's anymore room in it. 

Having hit this "almost milestone", I occasionally find myself spending a little more time looking in the mirror  than I normally do.  At the risk of sounding narcissistic, it's more to check for the onset of potential gray hair or lines around the eyes and mouth than it is to gaze longingly at my pristine reflection.

After all, isn't that what "one does" when you "get to be my age"???

A few nights ago, I got together with a dear friend for a drink.  He and I have known each other for close to six years now.  As we chatted about "getting older", he commented that I haven't changed at all; that I look the same today as I looked back then.  I smiled and thanked him for the compliment (and no, he didn't follow that up by asking for money). 

Thanks to my parents and some good living, I haven't really changed all that much.  However, it's what you don't see that has.

Perhaps, more importantly, the changes associated with getting older are more internal than external.

Let me explain.

I've been noticing some changes in my behavior/personality, particularly in the past few years.  I've included a short list below in no particular order of importance (remember what the first "R" of my blog stands for):

1. People's opinions of me don't matter that much anymore.  I was always clamoring for people's approval my whole life, whether it was from my parents, my teachers, my friends or my boss.  What they all thought of me took precedence over my own self-concept.  The older I get, the more in tune I'm becoming with my own inner guidance.  I don't make choices in my life to please others nearly as much as I used to.  There is a fine line between being a compassionate, giving person and a wishy washy doormat.  Pro to aging.
2. I'm more comfortable in my own skin.  This is kind of related to the first category.  Since I don't care what other people think of me like I used to, I don't treat my body like a trophy or show piece to garner attention from the peanut gallery.  So what if there is a dimple or two on my thighs or an extra couple pieces of "laundry" shielding my washboard abs?  I'm strong.  I'm healthy.  And I'm pretty sure I can still turn a head or two.  Not that I've noticed, mind you (see #1).  Pro to aging.
3. I'm becoming more private.  As long as I can remember, I've been the sort of person who loved to be the center of attention.  I'd tell anyone anything they wanted to know, no matter how well I knew them.  Now, I've become weary of small talk.  With the exception of my penchant for blogging, I'm not okay with divulging information about myself to casual acquaintances.  I just don't want to talk about myself to people that much.  I'm drawing a more tangible line between my professional and personal lives.  Maybe I'm becoming masterful at the art of setting boundaries.  Or maybe, I'm just getting ornery.  Possible "con" to aging.
4. I enjoy being home.  I used to be a busy bee in my late teens and early to mid twenties.  My days were chock full of appointments, nights out with friends, work obligations and other social activities.  I was always running from here to there in a frenzy.  There was a certain restlessness to my spirit and I thrived on this chaotic way of living.  Now, I couldn't be bothered.  I love my friends and I derive a good amount of satisfaction from my job.  But, I don't need to take on the world and have a full calendar anymore. I don't like to go out on weeknights, as a general rule (in the case of the friend mentioned above, I gladly made an exception).  My idea of an exciting Friday night is cozying up on the leather sofa with a glass of red wine and my kindle.  And I'm okay with that.  Or maybe I'm just old and boring now.  This could be 50% pro and 50% con to aging.
5. I can be still.  For as long as I can remember, my life has been a process of searching for something, anything, to show me meaning and purpose.  Is it the right career?  The right religion?  The right relationship?  I assigned all kinds of responsibility to external factors that I had no control over.  Through meditation and self-study, I began to realize that my purpose is joy.  Not only that, I am the only person that can make me happy.  I can't expect anyone else to do that for me.  Now that I know, all the other areas flow much smoother.  Because there are no expectations.  They are bonuses to me.  They enhance my life dramatically.  I appreciate my relationships and my material blessings immensely and realize just how much I have to be thankful for.  But, I am 100% complete without them.  I learned to sit with myself.  And I liked it.  Pro to aging.

So, there you have it. 

Just some random ramblings about things that aging has shown me.

Gray hair and facial lines?

Well, my friends, they only tell part of the story.

The years teach much which the days never knew. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

To get faster, run...slower???

Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis???

That just makes no sense whatsoever, now does it?

Not to me, anyway.

That is, until I picked up "The Maffetone Method-The Holistic, Low-Stress, No-Pain Way to Exceptional Fitness" by Dr. Philip Maffetone.

Low-Stress?
No-Pain?
Exceptional?

You had me at hello, Dr. Phil (not to be confused with the pop psychologist on tv).

In this book, he explains the benefits of aerobic fitness, stress reduction, proper footwear and nutrition.  At the risk of going off on more tangents than I normally do, I'm only going to outline the finer points he illustrates regarding the first topic:  aerobic fitness.  Maffetone realized that "the human body would progress athletically naturally if it was not overstressed."  He decided to see how successful an average person could be by following a no-pain approach to exercise, as opposed to the "no pain, no gain" philosophy that most of us have been subscribing to for years.

Myself included.  Let's face it, folks.  I'm a fitness professional by trade.  People PAY me to hurt them.

But, I was still intrigued.

As you know, the last four months of my running has been sporadic.  I'd experienced my share of physical challenges that prevented me from running as far and as fast as I would have liked.  I've always thought of myself as a health and fitness "guinea pig", so to speak.  I try different approaches and exercise trends in order to be informed and aware if and when the subject comes up with a client.  So, the idea of immersing myself in another fitness related experiment seems natural enough.

Maffetone claims his "healthy approach to exercise worked not only for the average person but also for competitive athletes, who improved their personal-best performances and finished in first place in local races. Some went on to even higher levels; some even achieved world-class status, winning national and world championship events."

Hey, I like improving.  And I wouldn't mind finishing first place in local races either.

I decided to start with Chapter 6:  Exercise and Heart Rate.  Maffetone says one of the most important aspects of your exercise program is knowing whether you're aerobic or anaerobic.  He says "Aerobic speed-the ability to work faster and harder with the same or less energy-can be developed only when one has a high level of aerobic function".  In other words, the most important part of your fitness regimen is the aerobic base, "the time you'll need to spend to build your aerobic system".

I'd trained with a heart rate monitor off and on over the years.  Since I already owned one, I figured this would be the best place to start.  In the early 1980's, Maffetone developed a new formula for determining the optimal heart rate for anyone who works out.  It's called "the 180-Formula".  You may have heard of the 220-age calculation which, the author states, is inaccurate.  The numbers using 180-age are generally lower than 220-age, which are based on "oxygen-consumption tables and estimated maximum heart rates.  The 180-Formula is based on each individual's general health and fitness level and was derived from clinical trials and from gas-analyzer results."

The 180-Formula is as follows:

1)  Subtract your age from 180.

2)  Modify this number by selecting from the following categories

• If you are recovering from a major illness (heart disease, any operation, any hospital stay, etc.) or if you are on any regular medication, subtract an additional 10.
• If you have not exercised before, have exercised irregularly, have been exercising with injury, have regressed in training or competition, get more than two colds or cases of flu per year, or have allergies or asthma, subtract an additional 5.
• If you have been exercising regularly (at least four times weekly) for up to two years without any of the above-mentioned problems, use the (180-age) number.
• If you are a competitive athlete and have been training for more than two years without any of the above-mentioned problems and have made progress in competition without injury, add 5.

The heart rate obtained by using this formula is referred to as the maximum aerobic heart rate. (Page 62)

Sounds easy enough, right?

I subtracted my age, 39, from 180 and decided to add 5 (since I have done six marathons and have had long stretches of injury-free training), making my maximum aerobic heart rate 146.  Maffetone suggests using a range from that number to 10 beats below that number, which would make my training zone 136-146 bpm.  Those numbers seem REALLY low, I know.

In time, as the aerobic system improves, I'll have to work harder to maintain the same heart rate.  In other words, I'm going to adapt to this intensity.  My exercise pace is going to change and I'll have to go faster.  

I decided to train with my heart rate monitor during all my aerobic runs (which is the majority of them-I'll plan on one day of anaerobic/fartlek/speed work) beginning this week.  Since I'm in the process of ramping back up in preparation for Boston and everything feels good, it seemed like the best time to start.  So far, here's what I have:

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

6.20 miles

1:04:34

Avg Pace 10:25/mi

Avg Speed 5.8 mph

Max Speed 7.0 mph

Avg Heart Rate 147 bpm

Max Heart Rate 156 bpm

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

6.26 miles

1:00:01

Avg Pace 9:35/mi

Avg Speed 6.3 mph

Max Speed 9.3 mph

**Did not use HRM since this was a fartlek run, preceded by 15 minutes easy running and followed by 10 minutes of slow running to cool-down**

Thursday, January 6, 2011
6.20 miles
1:01:49
Avg Pace 9:58/mi
Avg Speed 6.0 mph
Max Speed 7.6 mph
Avg Heart Rate 147 bpm
Max Heart Rate 157 bpm

Saturday, January 8, 2011
5.50 miles
56:04
Avg Pace 10:12/mi
Avg Speed 5.9 mph
Max Speed 7.8 mph
Avg Heart Rate 145 bpm
Max Heart Rate 154 bpm


It's only been a week, so to say that it's made a profound difference already...well, that's a bit premature.  However, as you can see, I'm starting to get myself into the 136-146 bpm training range by adjusting my pace.  That's been the toughest thing for me so far, as I like to see my average pace between an 8:40-9:40/mile.  Running over 10 minutes per mile always seemed slow to me.  I like "feeling like" I can be faster than that.  But, for the purpose of this experiment, pace and distance are irrelevant, really.

So, I'm shelving the ego and submitting myself to the process.

Stay tuned, folks.