Balls in the Air

Working Together

2012-02-04T17:19:00.000-08:00

Wednesday night is TOC night. I'm not an official member of the Toronto Olympic Club but I'm running with a few locals who are and I'm being coached by one of TOC's coaches. Honestly, I'm not sure if I have what it takes to don a TOC singlet, but I'm thrilled that they are letting me run after them once a week.
During the past six weeks that I've been running with them, I have been humbled. My first week out, I ran with Kyle, a 34 minute 10K runner. The next time, there were 2 others - both 3:35 kilometre runners in their late teens. Both nights, I went home questionning what I was doing trying to run with them, but I returned again; one thing I'm not is a quitter (although I have been known to postpone running a marathon).
I was relieved when speedy Monica, who is still much faster but closer to my pace, showed up on Week 3, and I let out a huge sigh when Alex, barely 16, appeared. Yes, I was still at the back but I wasn't completely alone anymore.

This week, I'm starting to see the payoff. My 8K race on Sunday, The Robbie Burns Run, showed me that. Even though my time was a bit slower than I would have liked (35:22), I was comfortable with how I ran; I left the race feeling good - something I haven't felt since the end of October. Nothing can beat that.
And Wednesday's workout really built my confidence: 14.4 kilometres with 6 sets of intervals in the middle. I pushed on every one, felt strong and I didn't finish last!

Now, three nights later, I'm still smiling when I remember how good I felt when I finished that last interval. On the way back, I told Coach that I didn't think I could have done that 3 months ago; he agreed.
Of course, I will likely be put back in my place this Wednesday night, but I have 3 more nights to enjoy that glorious feeling.

"Running should be a lifelong activity. Approach it patiently and intelligently,

and it will reward you for a long, long time." -Michael Sargent

Ah Ha!

2012-01-28T17:46:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, I emailed Kevin, one of the Toronto Olympic Club coaches, who is trying to help me chase my dreams. "Without a doubt," I told him, "I have had the worst week of running that I've had in a long time."

This prompted me to really reflect on how I've been running for the past few months. In my eyes, it's been terrible. My pacing has been off, my weekly mileage is lower than I'd like it to be right now and, of course, I never seem to have enough time.

I wondered whether I just needed more time to get back on track after being off in the summer. No, that didn't make sense; it's been almost six months.

I thought that my two main running buddies' injuries which have kept them out of the running scene for several months might have been a factor. Possibly, but unlikely.

And I thought about my times. Ah Ha! That was it! It's been about time.

In my quest to run faster, I've lost perspective of what it takes to do just that. Somehow, I've been going out "hard" at the start of many, many runs and finished them feeling awful. I've started using my iPod for all of my long runs (over 10 miles) but, being a music person, my feet are picking up the beat and that is also messing up my pacing. So, I've made two little changes:

1. Get rid of the ipod. For my next long run, I'm going back to running without the tunes. Admittedly, I'm a bit worried about being with just my own thoughts again but, since I've only used my ipod for only 9 runs, it should be easy enough go old-school again.

2. Dump the watch. For every run this week, I haven't looked at my watch. I completely ignored the time I left the house, the time I got home, how fast my miles were....Instead, I ran by feel. Even on Wednesday's tempo and pick-ups, I didn't time myself (but I was really, really tempted to). And do you know what? I felt good - all week long.

In his reply, Kevin reminded me that I need my long run and my intervals. The runs in between should be easier. I hate easy.

But, like everything else in life, it all comes back to the pendulum. The ball swings from the easy side to the hard and back to the easy. Eventually, it will rest in the middle - exactly where it should be.

The Ultimate Power

2012-01-22T20:37:00.000-08:00

Time. As runners, it is almost always about time. Do I have time to run? How fast was I? Did I set a new PB? How many more weeks?

I clearly remember my grade 10 English class in which Time was a common theme. "Time," Miss Box taught us, "has the ultimate power over man." Thirty years later, now more than ever, I clearly understand.

It's the powerful but gentle tick that has taught me to juggle work, family and running so delicately. Some weeks, I do a great job; others, something starts to fall.

Last week was one of those weeks. Work was hectic, family duties were demanding and my running suffered. But nothing feel to the ground.

Here I am - at the start of a new week: different goals, a fresh start. Time can't stop that.

It Takes a Community

2012-01-17T20:28:00.000-08:00

"It takes a community to raise a child" but it also takes one to build a runner. After the past week, I'm lucky to have so many supports around me. Last week was evidence that my family and friends are completely behind my running goals.

On Wednesday, I run with TOC. Little Ironman was happy to see me head out the door because I was dropping off his library books on my run to the rec. centre; the rest of the house was happy to see me go because I was turning into a bear after being back at school for only 2 days.

Saturday morning, I led the 5K Clinic at The Running Company. Since I had to be there, getting out the door was easy. Then, even though I ran with the group, I headed out to do my own run after because I was already dressed to run.

The real proof, though, was on Sunday, when I had to find time to run 13 miles in an already packed day. My choices were to wake up early to run at 6:00 a.m. in dark streets and -15C temperatures or have Dave drive me to a noon appointment so that I could run home from there. Without hesitating, he agreed that I should do the early afternoon run and Skipper offerred to play with LI when Daddy was out. The family was on board.

And, to top this off, one of my Super Friends was also there to help. Katherine the Great took Skipper to Church at 8:30 on Sunday morning, which completely freed up my time so that I could crawl back into bed for some desperately needed sleep. And that I did - for two heavenly hours.

Today, my principal told me that how he excited he was to see me running when he drove past me on Sunday. Since he first started working at my school last March, he has supported my running and is incredibly excited that I'm going to Boston (and I can't wait for Running Skirts to unveil their green compression socks because he wants me to wear our school colours).

Ironically, I had very little contact with my biggest support group, my online running friends, because I was off the grid. I had to be as life got in the way - back to work, busy family, sick dog, fitness. Life is like that sometimes; you can't always do it all. Balance.

Last week was a test of my committment; I passed. More so, though, it was a chance for me to realize how lucky I am that I have support and so many people who believe in me and my chasing my dreams.

I Think I Did Something Good

2012-01-08T20:18:00.000-08:00

On Friday night, I decided that it would probably be a good idea to check the BAA website to see if there were any updates about "The Weekend". Skipper walked in and peeked over my shoulder.

"Oh, is that the Boston site?" he asked - and quite rhetorically, I should add.
" Uh-huh. I'm just checking out the weekend's events. There's a 5K on the Sunday before the marathon."

One question led to another, we read through the 5K page, and finally he asked, "Mom, do you think I could run the 5K?"
I was shocked. Except for cross-country in the fall, Skipper has never really shown much of an interest in running himself.
"Well, you meet the age restrictions and we'd have to try to register you. If you want to do it, that's fine, but you have to train for it. You have 3 months and I can help."
The conversation ended and he went to bed.

This morning, two days later, Skipper came downstairs and asked for a drawstring bag.
"Why?"
"So that I can run home from Church. I'm going to train for the 5K in Boston."

And he did. Skipper packed athletic clothes, changed after the service and ran part of the way home - 0.6 miles.
Less than 5 minutes later, he walked in the door, grinning and cheeks rosey-red. And, like his mother, one of the first things he did was calculate his pace - 7:08 minutes per mile.

Tonight, just before bedtime, he checked tomorrow's forecast.
"Mom, it's going to be warm tomorrow. Can I run after school?"

Is this starting to sound like somebody you know? Without trying to, I think I've created a - gasp! - runner.

Getting Everyone Back on Board

2012-01-07T20:20:00.001-08:00

Last Sunday night before dinner, I looked at Skipper and Little Ironman and told them that I was going to write out my running plans for the week for them - just so that they would know when I'd be gone.

Let's backtrack a little. In the fall, LI would ride his bike with me on many of my runs. The exception was my Wednesday night run with Shawn; LI knew that it was my running time and he was going to be home with Daddy and his big brother.

Sometime in November, LI started to get very upset whenever I went to pull on my running gear. He wanted to come with me - but couldn't. He would cry, "I wasn't expecting this!" or "Why didn't you tell me earlier you were going for a run?" My five year old was beginning to sound like my father. Of course, his tears only upset me before I headed out the door and that always seemed to impact my run.

During the holidays, I planned to help Skipper with his days of the week. He does know them but still gets mixed up when asked, "What comes after____?" Since he learns best when it's important or meaningful (as most kids do), we wrote the days of the week together and filled in Mom's Running Schedule.

"There," I said. "Now you know when I'm going to go out so you won't have to worry any more."

To which he replied, "Wait! Now I need to do my running schedule so that you know when I'm going to run."

And we left it on the kitchen table for the entire week. And guess what? When it was time for me to run, there were no tears - at all.

Tonight, LI told me that we have to do another schedule tomorrow.

"Great idea! We'll do that after I run."
Then Skipper added, "Uh, Mom, do you think you can send me a soft copy?"

I can do that - especially when everyone is back on board.

Finishing Dead Last

2012-01-05T21:18:00.000-08:00

It has happened two weeks in a row now; I finished last in our tempo run.

In December, I started running with members of the Toronto Olympic Club. Week 1 was a disaster - completely humbling. I was way behind the others, which I expected, but it really brought me down emotionally and I was afraid to go out with them again.

Last week, during the first of my two weeks off, I was rested and feeling good so I decided to suck it up and head out with them again. We did a 5K tempo run (actually 3.19 miles if you want to be technical about the distance ) and, again, I finished last. And, once again, I felt defeated and deflated.

This Wednesday night, despite the previous runs, I was surprisingly excited about heading out with the TOC runners. Maybe it was because I had been with the boys for almost two full weeks and needed a bit of adult talk or, perhaps, I was becoming more comfortable with my spot and was developing the head space to fight a little harder to keep up.

As luck would have it, we ran the same route as last week - but in the opposite direction. I was glad because I timed last week's awful run (22:40) and knew that this week's could only be faster. But, this week's course meant running a hill for the third kilometre (yes, the entire kilometre) and it was much windier. I paced myself, felt strong (okay, so I gasped for air at the 4K point, but I was a lot more comfortable than last week), and I finished - you guessed it - dead last. But I was faster - by a whole 7 seconds. That's more than 1 second per kilometre in the wind and uphill.

Even though I'm at the back, I've been welcomed by this group of speedy runners, from 19 to 32 years. When I finished Wednesday's tempo, the youngest high 5'd me. That's all it took to make me feel accepted.

Next Wednesday, I'll be chasing them again.

Jumping an Age Group - or two or three

2012-01-03T20:05:00.000-08:00

"Hot" is the new word in our house. Justin Beiber is "hot". The girls in Glee are "hot". I am not "hot", but I'm told I'm beautiful. That's good enough for me.

Let's remember that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and the owner of these eyes is only 6 years old. But I think that, for 48 years old, I look pretty good. I consider myself to be fit and healthy and, since I don't wear make-up (which still has me wondering why one of the grade 6 boys in my class gave me a compact make-up mirror for Christmas!) and I'm "outgrowing" my highlights, many say that I'm pretty natural.

This leaves me in shock after a visit to The Bay this afternoon. Dave, the boys and I went to our local Bay store so that we could pick up some warmer blankets for their beds. At the sales desk, the clerk looked at me and asked, "Are you over 65 so that I can give you the Seniors' discount?"

"Uh, no (and, then, I realized I spoke too soon), but can I have it anyway since you think I'm a senior?" I asked.
"Oh, I'd have to ask you for identification. I wouldn't ask him (looking at my husband who is 4 years my senior!) but I'd have to ask you."
"Well, is there a discount for the Highly Offended? I'm feeling rather insulted."

That was it: no look of embarrassment, no apology, nothing. I thought about talking to a store manager because I could feel the gray hairs that were suddenly starting to sprout.

Instead, I said nothing. On the way home, though, I was to tempted to stop at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine - just to see if they would ask me for my i.d.

Race Report: Brantford Resolution Fun Run for Kids

2012-01-02T20:13:00.000-08:00

After returning to the finish line on Sunday morning, the kids were just getting ready to leave for their 1 kilometre fun run. Last week, when Little Ironman and I talked about his doing it, he was keen. However, on Saturday morning, he suddenly changed his mind and didn't want to. Rather than force the run on him, I let it go.

On Sunday, though, when we got back to the Armoury, he saw the kids and commented, "The kids are getting ready for their race." Within seconds, the horn sounded, kids started to run, and he added, "I want to do that."

"You want to run the 1K?" I asked.

"Yes."
"Okay, then, let's go!" And we jumped right in.

The things we do for our kids! First, I had already changed out of my wet running gear and was comfortably warm and dry. Secondly, I was in my old running shoes - the ones that I now wear from day to day. Finally, I wasn't even wearing a jogbra. Yes, without hesitating, I started to run 1K braless! There aren't many times that I'm grateful that I'm small; today was definitely one of them.Little Ironman was excited about running. Even when the downpour during the middle part, he grinned from ear to ear, reminding me of how excited my cross-country team is every time they run in the rain because that suddenly makes running an "extreme" sport. We got soaked.

Running became "extreme" for LI, again, when we found ourselves hurdling over a dead squirrel in the middle of the road. Luckily, it was fresh roadkill and neither blood nor guts were showing yet. I wondered whether some speedy runner like Krista Duchene from the 5K or 10K had run over it earlier in the morning. Poor squirrel wouldn't have had a chance crossing her path!

I wish I had timed LI because this was his best fun run this year. He took a few walking breaks when he needed to but kept going from start to end.

By the time we finished, I needed to change my clothes again. Fortunately, I still had my pants to put on and, thanks to our great race kits, I had a brand new jacket to cover up with and trap in some body heat. LI, of course, had a complete change; I never go to a race without extra everything for him.

For me, the Kids' Race was the hit of the day, braless and all. It's the spontaneous thrill of running for fun that keeps me chasing my dreams.

Welcome, 2012

2012-01-01T20:20:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve was quiet in our house. Skipper sent himself to bed at 8:00, Little Ironman and Dave followed shortly after and I stayed up (far too late finishing The Hunger Games). It's not that we are boring people; it's just that we planned to be up this morning to head to Brantford, Ontario for the inaugural Mayor's Resolution Run.

Dave has been working with the race director, Bill Jol, for the past several months helping him organize this 5K and 10K event. When I realized that Dave was driving 60K to volunteer at a race, it only made sense for me to run one of the races. And, of course, the boys came along with us: Skipper was set to help at a water station and Little Ironman was happy to just tag along.

However, I had two reservations about running this race. First, Dave wanted to be in Brantford early but I was concerned that I'd end up waiting in the cold, which could result in with a pulled muscle; once we learned that The Armoury would be open for runners at 7:30, it was easy to decide to go with him.

My next dilemna was deciding which distance to run. While I had a few strong races in the fall, I still didn't have my race legs back. After last week's disaster in Hamilton, I knew that I needed a race where I could push myself and run well. I also wanted to leave enough gas in the tank for a long run the next day, which would be more difficult after racing a 10K. So, I decided on the 5K.

Once we arrived at the race site, Dave and Skipper went to work at setting up the finish line, and LI and I went into the Armoury to pick up my race kit and keep warm. All runners got a black technical jacket with their race kits, which also had deodorant, aspirin, shower gel and the usual race fuel and literature. It was one of the best kits that I've received in a long time.

At 8:30, all three boys left for the water station that they were "manning" and I headed out to warm up. The plan was for me to race the 5K, run to the 7.5K water station as my cool down, and drive back to the finish line with them.

With all boys out of sight and mind, I was able to warm up properly and I was mentally ready at the start line. When the horn sounded, all 5K and 10K runners started together and we stayed together for the first 4.5K. I found this a bit frustrating because I didn't know whether I was chasing 5K or 10Kers so I just ran fast.

But not too fast. Today, I ran with my head. My first kilometre was fast but comfortable (clocked at 4:17 but I'm sure the kilometre marker was off) and by the end of the second kilometre, I passed all but three women. I knew one was Krista Duchene, who was running the 10K in hopes of a spot at the Olympic trials in Vancouver, but I had no idea who the others were. So I just continued with my strategy: run fast.

By the time the finish line was in sight, I saw that I was heading for a sub-22 minute time. I was hoping to be closer to 21 minutes but I was determined not to cross 22; I pushed hard and finished in 21:58. Phew!

Better than that, though, was I placed as the second gal and first Master, which meant a medal and a nice little cheque to bring home.

The entire time, I didn't notice my pace picking up or slowing down so I think I'm getting a better sense of racing shorter distance again. I had lots left to push for the last kilometre so I can probably give more next time - perhaps, hurt a little too. Today's race reminded me that I can run hard and pace myself, but it also gently told me that I have some work to do to get back down to a 4:12 kilometre pace.

As planned, I ran out to the last water station to meet the boys who were, by then, finishing up with the last runners. The clouds had come in, it was starting to rain and I was happy to be able to go back for the awards.

By the time we returned to the Armoury, we didn't have to wait long for the awards to begin. Skipper was delighted to wear my medal and new Saucony running cap.

What was unusual about the awards was the overall and first Masters runners were asked to wait another hour to receive our cheques from the Mayor of Brantford. I was happy to. After all, the boys were busy and happy, and it gave me a chance to get to know Krista Duchene (who did qualify for the Olympic trial with 1 second to spare!) and another Master runner, Kevin, whom I had seen at a few other races I've run.

I left Brantford feeling much more together than I did after last week's Ten-Miler. I had a good race - not my best 5K, but a strong one. It was just what I needed to get my confidence up a bit. And with the warm-up and cool-down, I ended up with the highest weekly mileage in exactly a month - also good for the confidence.

Most importantly, though, today's run made me realize that I can do it. But it also helped me understand that I'm ready to push myself again, that I want to push myself and I've definitely have some work to do over the next few months if I want to closer to 20 minutes in the spring.

But I can do it. Today was the first day towards making that happen.

Who's Boss Now?

2011-12-29T20:38:00.000-08:00

You know that little ache that just doesn't feel right? The one you hope will just go away? And then, after a few days, you realize that it's more than just a little ache.

You know where this is headed, right? To save you the time of reading this entire post, I'll jump to the happy ending now: I won. But it's not the happily ever after ending that I was hoping for.

Since returning to running at the end of August, I've been really careful to build mileage slowly and gradually add some speedwork. I've tried to follow the 10% rule - only increase distance or speed by 10% each week - so that I don't end up re-injuring myself. I've been diligent about visits to the physiotherapist for follow-up and accupuncture, the latter of which has really helped improve the muscular imbalance between my hamstrings.

But last week, two days before Christmas weekend, my right ham felt tight. I was fairly certain that it wasn't from running but from sitting at school and listening to 50 Language presentations in one day. Knowing that my right hams are my weak muscle group, I didn't waste any time seeing my chiro.

Randy was great. He loosened my leg nicely and easily adjusted my hips, which led to a quick and noticeable improvement. But I needed more so, today, I went in for an acupuncture session.

Marcia, my physiotherapist who includes acupuncture in treatments, laughed at me when I told her that the tightness started in my right ham, moved up into the gluteus maximus and that was causing a bit of grief in my SI joint. After assessing me, she said, "You're right. It's all in the ham and that's aggravating the glute max." Marcia stretched out my leg, popped in some needles and 20 minutes later, things felt much better.

On the way home, I reminded myself of how important it is that I respect my weak spots. I haven't been consistent with cycling. Either I'm too tired in the morning to get up early or too busy at night to spin a few miles. I'm obviously going to need to make more of a committment to riding my windtrainer through the windtrainer, though, if I want to keep my legs happy.

After all, happy legs make for a happy runner. And you know what a happy runner leads to, don't you?

Wacky Wednesday

2011-12-28T10:06:00.000-08:00

Thanks, everyone, for your support from yesterday's post. I really appreciate it.
On a more positive note, I teach in a French Immersion school, so I spend half of my day with two different classes. Last week, I was overwhelmed by the gifts that I received from my students.
This is why I run....When I counted all of the chocolates (not including the cookies and handmade tins of goodies), I realized that I have enough to eat one a day for the next 19 weeks! Thank goodness that I have boys who have something that I don't - high metabolism!

Racing and de-Racing: Boxing Day Ten Miler

2011-12-27T15:08:00.000-08:00

If any race is going to sum up the kind of fall that I've had, this is it. My new teaching assignment (which I love but has me busy), changes at home, and injured running partners have led to low weekly mileage; to race distance, you need to train distance, and I simply don't have a strong base right now.

In spite of everything, I was ready for the Boxing Day run. I had logged several 11+ mile runs and my speed has been good. I was not prepared, though, for a sick child on Christmas night. At 11:30 p.m., Little Ironman woke up crying; by 1:00, the tears had turned into screams and I knew he had an ear infection. He could not sleep and, as a result, neither could I. By 4:30, my eyes finally stayed shut with Little Ironman wrapped in my arms. Less than 4 hours later, I was getting into the shower for a 10 mile race.

Please, don't be too quick to judge me. Little Ironman also jumped out of bed, happy as could be and eager to play with his Christmas treats. That's when I was sure he had an ear infection - painful at night, as soon as you're horizontal, but not during the day. LI remembered being awake and crying, but he claimed nothing hurt in the morning. Walk-in clinics were closed and he seemed fine so we just had to take the "wait and see" approach to a real diagnosis. Meanwhile, he was as happy as could be so I had no qualms about heading out to Hamilton to race.

Despite the lack of sleep, I was excited about running. My injured running partner, Shawn, was coming out with his brother, Dan, and my recovering-from-injury running partner, Delilah, was hoping to head to Hamilton to watch the race. Some new friends from Toronto Olympic were also going to run so, really, this race wasn't about running or racing; it was about the social aspect that comes with it.

Hamilton's 10-miler has a great route which is known for the hills in the second half of the course so I knew that I had to start slowly - about a 7:30 mile pace - so that I had some gas left in the tank. But I blew it from the start. My first mile was in 7:02 and I ran the first 5K in 21 minutes; I tried to push down the pace each time I realized that I was slightly out of control.

By the time, I got to the 5 mile mark, I was exactly where I wanted to be - at 36 minutes. But, sleep deprivation kicked in at this point and I was clearly not thinking. For whatever reason, I thought I was headed for a 76 minute race (not the 72-73 that the clock was pacing me at) when my goal was 73-75 minutes. I gave up.

Okay, I didn't entirely give up; I just didn't care about how I was running anymore. Men and women passed me and it didn't bother me. I was just plain tired. I stopped fighting the circulating wind and stopped when I needed to. I walked the first hill because I felt like it. When I got to the second hill - the slow, gradual 1 mile climb that broke me last year - I took it conservatively and I stopped less than 100 metres from the top; I walked again, hands on my hips, with deep breaths in. Had I been thinking, I could have kept running because, truthfully, I wasn't tired from running. I was just out of sorts.

Somehow, my drive kicked back in for the last two miles; perhaps, it was because I wasn't feeling awful at the top of the hill and I realized that I had lots left to give. So, I decided to blast through the last two miles, running them at just over a 7 minute mile pace. I finished feeling strong, not spent, but ticked off with how I ran.

When I saw Shawn, the first thing I said was, "I ran like an idiot." The next words out of my mouth were, "If anything sums up the kind of fall I had, this race is it." And it wasn't long before I finally said the words that I've been thinking for weeks, "I don't know if I have Boston in me this year. I'm thinking of bailing."

Today, I spent a good chunk of time looking at where I've been and deciding on where I'm heading. Right now, I think what I need most is a strong race - a quick confidence boost - and a good dose of patience. And meds kicking into Little Ironman (an ear infection was diagnosed today)and a good night's sleep will help too.

Fitting In

2011-12-12T20:42:00.000-08:00

For the past year, I've been toying with the idea of running with Oakville's branch of Toronto Olympic Club runners. These guys are fast - lightning fast - so fast that running with them intimidates the heck out of me. But I need a good kick in the running skirt (Wait! Do TOC runners wear skirts?) to push me to the next level and this just might be what I need.

Shawn and I talked about running with them last winter. He was put off years ago, though, when the coach told him that he wasn't fast enough to keep up with the guys but could run with the girls. Honestly, I can't blame him for walking away. But now, we often pass a group of Toronto Olympic Runners which trains out of our local rec. centre and we toss around the idea of running with them some night.

At the 5KSM race on Thanksgiving Monday, I spoke with two of their runners who encouraged me to go out with them. I hesitated; after all, I would be the slowest by far. Still, something was luring me in their direction.

Two weeks ago, when Shawn was off with an injury, I finally found the courage to try to run with them. Since it was right after the Canadian Cross-Country Championship race in Vancouver, the group running that night was small, which was exactly what I needed as a larger group would have been overwhelming. Last week, life was busy so I had to miss Wednesday's run and I truly missed the chance to run with them again.

At yesterday's race, Kyle, one of the guys I tried to keep up with a few weeks ago, and I chatted while waiting for the awards. After talking with him, I realized that I would be accepted by the other runners, even though their race times are significantly faster than mine. He asked if I'd be out this Wednesday. "Little Ironman has his school concert so I can't. Next Wednesday, I will be," I replied. Just like that, I felt acceptance.

Tonight, I stopped at Shawn's place on the way home from school and told him that I was going to run with them again next week. Poor guy! One injury and I've already replaced him with a group of faster, younger men (and women). All kidding aside, when I told him that I was thinking of running with them on Mondays and with Shawn on Wednesdays, his eyes popped open and he commented, "Maybe we should both join then." When I told him that they are "looking for Masters like us to run " with them, his face lit up.

I'm a believer in things happening for a reason. My Wednesday night run with Shawn is such a staple in my training that I would never give it up to run with someone else. But when he was injured, the opportunity presented itself and I had the time to run with the TOC guys. And now Shawn, who less than a year ago told me that he was once insulted by their head coach and would never run with them, is also considering giving it a try.

It's too early to tell if we will end up running under their name but, in the meantime, the thought of doing so is certainly moving me forward. What would you do?

Race Report: Egg Nog Jog

2011-12-11T20:50:00.000-08:00

This course in Halton Hills, Ontario is appropriately named for two reasons. First, egg nog is served at the finish area. Secondly, the course is so hilly that you are going to feel like you are jogging.

I have been worried about this 10.8K race for weeks. Why, I'm not sure; I did run it last year and ran well (and under terrible conditions). However, my past two races (both in November)were not great - finishing with fourths in my age group, and the most recent was 1/2 second behind the third - so I might have been fretting about not placing in Halton Hills. I have to admit that, as I'm reaching the top of my age group, I'm not ready to be passed by the group of women about to enter their forties.

Deep down, though, I think that I've been panicking about my knee, which Dr. Elliott says has likely been the result of a bit of osteo-arthritis (and treatment, including the Durolane injection, are based on this). He has told me to be careful on training runs with hill repeats but, let's face, Boston is a tough course. The only way I can get ready for ole Heartbreak is to train on hills carefully. So, while racing the Egg Nog Jog was not the smartest thing for me to do, I had to do it.

So, I made last week an easy running week. Life helped with that. A late night at school, a busy night with the boys, and other committments made sure that I didn't run since Tuesday. Yesterday, I really wanted to but it was the day before the race, so I didn't. I cycled throughout the week to keep my cardio up, to keep strengthening my quad muscles; minimal running meant I felt rested going into today's 10.8K.

Now that we're into the sub-zero temperatures, warming up is that much more important. I need time to open my airways (for my asthma), stretch out my legs (especially around my right knee), and really just keep from freezing. As soon as I started to turn over my legs, I realized that my easy week was a good decision. I forgot that the first 2.5K of the course was a fast downhill, and I forgot how long the hills were. Since I could feel my knee a bit on a slow downhill, I knew that I should take it easy during the race.

I wasn't ready for the gun when it went off; I was too busy listening to some guy complain about how much he drank at last night's Christmas party. Once it sounded, I realized that I had positioned myself too far back. However, I also realized that that would stop me from going out too fast as I'd have to weave my way around runners for the first several hundred metres. I took the downhill start slowly, much more slowly than last year (and I know it was much slower than last year because I clearly remember how fast I went through the first mile) and before long, I faced the first of many hills.

I climbed the first hill, the next and the next. While going up, plateauing, running down or climbing on and on, I couldn't help but think about Sebastian Coe's hill training, which I read about in Running Times. To run a course like this, you need to prep on hills; I hadn't done that. By the time I got to the beast, my quads were busting and I walked. Gasp! Yes, I walked part of the beast, and was passed by a gal (and a few others, but it was the lady that I worried about).

Now I had to think about how I was going to catch her over the next 6 kilometres. Clearly, she was a better hill runner than I (as I stopped and she didn't) so my plan was to stay with her and try to close the gap. As we ran, though, I realized that our pacing was pretty much the same; when she picked up, so did I. I kept waiting for her to slow down but she was steady.

Before long, the voice of reason caught up to me. "Be careful," it said. "This is just part of your training. You don't need to push yourself here."
We climbed the last monster and heard the sound of bagpipes coming around the corner. "That's it," I knew. "The rest of the course is gentler now, and then it's a downhill finish."
"Easy, girl," Reason repeated.
"Maybe, just maybe...."

I was able to get closer but I still couldn't grab her. Then, about less than a kilometre from the finish, I heard someone yell, "Nice work, ladies!"

"Crap!" I thought. "That wasn't directed towards her; she wouldn't have heard it. There's another gal right behind me!" So I quickened my pace - this time to open the gap behind me as much as to close it ahead. When I crossed the finish line (in 50:15 - hilly course!), I had held my spot.

I went up to congratulate Her and was quite happy to see that She was much less wrinkly than I. "Good run," I said, "I tried to catch you but I couldn't."

A gentleman behind me piped up, "Well, I tried to catch both of you but couldn't." And that was the beginning of my ego boost.

When the results were posted, I read that She was 25-29 so I felt much better about not catching Her. I also saw that I was the oldest of the top ten gals - solidly the oldest (8 were under 39, 1 was 45, and there was me - 48). The best boost of all, though, was when I heard a few "Wow's" and "Holy, that's fast" when my time was called out for placing first in my age group .

Sore knee and all, I'm still doing okay.

Wacky Wednesday

2011-12-07T20:12:00.001-08:00

A few week's ago, we had our parent-teacher-student interviews or, as we say in Ontario, student-led conferences. On one of those many late nights at school, I stepped out of the classroom and saw a man whom I didn't recognize.

I assumed that he was a father of one of my students but, never having seen him before, I wasn't sure. So I had to be careful not to say the wrong thing.

"Hello. Cynthia O'H," I said as I put out my hand to shake his.

"Hi, I'm Kain's dad. Kain and his mom are on their way; I'm a bit early," he replied. Then he looked at me and added matter-of-factly, "You're a runner."

I thought about Kain telling his parents stories about Mrs. O'H. running, Mrs. O'H. going to Boston....and I answered, "Yes."

"No, you're a real runner," he continued. "I've seen you running. And you run far. I've seen you miles away from here."

"Hmmm," I thought. "This dad just earned his son an A!"

Building Capacity

2011-12-05T20:20:00.001-08:00

Lung capacity, that is.

I knew that this was bound to be a tough year for me, asthmatically speaking. I'm back in the classroom, which means I'm exposed to many more kiddie germs than I have been in the past few years. And, last year, I had absolutely few health concerns (other than being paranoid that I'd end up with something) so the pendulum was bound to swing the other way this year.

Here I am, four months into the school year, and it happened: I caught the "cold". You know the one with the pounding headache, the sore throat, the feeling of just wanting to crawl back into bed until things get back to normal. So I did what made the most sense; on Monday night, I ran 5 miles.

Surprisingly, it helped. The headache disappeared immediately and my breathing seemed more relaxed. So on Wednesday night, when I was still feel "off". I didn't think twice about working out with a few Toronto Olympic Club runners.

Running with this group is something that I've wanted to do for a long time. However, they run on Wednesday nights, which is Shawn's and my night to run. When I told Shawn about my meeting a few of them in October and how they suggested that we run with them, he listened but didn't jump at the opportunity. So I tucked the invitation away in the back of my mind, hoping that I might be able to find time to join them on a Monday night instead.

Last Wedneday, Shawn took the night off (Actually, he's been off for the past week with a tight groin). The cards had landed; it was my night to run with these guys. However, being sick, Wednesday was probably the worst night for me to run with them for the first time (yes, I was a bit hung up on making a good first impression). I ran hard, probably not my best, and coughed when I finished - a lot, so much that I thought I might cough up whatever lunch was left in my stomache.

By Thursday, I had put myself in a position when I couldn't run; I was felt too sick. On Friday, I stayed home from work and got meds from the doctor. By Saturday, I felt strong enough to run again but found that my legs were made of rubber, likely still recovering from Wednesday night's pick-ups.

When yesterday's planned 10 miles came up, I decided that I'd probably be fine to run it, but I was going to start slowly - just in case. By the time I had run 6 miles, my legs were ready to pick up the pace and my lungs felt ready to push, and that they did. Even with the slow first half, I finished the 10 miles at a 7:35 pace, which really boosted my confidence.

After being back at school for just 24 hours, I've realized that it is important for me to keep running and cycling so that I can build greater lung capacity and deal with my asthma. Admittedly, I've been lazy about cycling this year - either too busy or too tired - but that obviously needs to change. I know that the more I do cardio (run and cycle), the better my lungs feel. Tomorrow, then, I'm going to have to make time before work to spin my legs and open up the arways.

What are you going to do to make your lungs feel good?

What Makes You Happy?

2011-11-27T14:52:00.000-08:00

"Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony." Thomas Merton

I was happy to not run this weekend - at all. Shocking, I know, but I needed time to do nothing.

Nothing, of course, is relative. When I did nothing, I cleaned out old toys (again), organized the basement, shopped for groceries, played with the boys, hemmed pants, and caught up on life: nothing. But it was the nothing that I needed. Besides, my knee is just a little bit sore.

On any typical weekend, I love my long runs (my time alone) and I love racing (running with my family and friends). Today, I had the opportunity to do both, and I passed.

Tomorrow, the pendulum will swing in the other direction and I'll be on the road again. Then, it will come back to the centre and balance will be restored.

Days of Summer

2011-11-20T20:44:00.000-08:00

There are many days that the only reason that I am able to get out and run is that I have the family supporting me in my goals. Last night, for example, Skipper said he would get up early to play with LI so that I could get my long run in before Church. Well, that was the plan.

Only the plan forgot to take into consideration that Skipper is a pre-teen and getting up before 7:00 isn't as easy for him as it use to be. I stood at his bedroom door at 6:45, listened to him snore deeply, and walked away. Fifteen minutes later, I went back upstairs, hopeful that he might be kicking the covers off - no luck. By 7:15, my dreams of a morning run had vanished.

When we got home from Church at 11:30, I announced to the boys, "I'm going for a run now."
"I want to come too," replied LI.
"I'm going for a long run, honey. It's too far for you to ride your bike."
"I can ride my bike that far. Just wait for me."
"Sorry, but I'm going with Mr. C. and a few of his friends."

I lied to my 5 year old. I suppose that makes me a bad mother but I did get out of the house without an argument or tears. Was it worth it? Definitely. Would I do it again? Absolutely!

I couldn't wait to get out for today's run as I hadn't run this route since last summer. Skipper and I would get up at 6:30 on weekend mornings, and he'd ride the 13.5 miles with water and an emergency $5 bill, which was inevitably spent on more water and an Aero Bar at a corner store on the way home. Today, it was just me - with no water or fuel, but a $5 bill (just in case).

As I headed out, I couldn't help but think about those summer runs we had together, especially since it was such an unseasonably warm afternoon. I pictured Skipper riding ahead of me, camelpack strapped on his back, and I thought about the little critters - the squirrels, rabbits, cats and dogs - that we used to count as we covered our miles - and of the number of morning cyclists we passed on Lakeshore.

Today's run was nothing like that, though. There was traffic - lots of traffic - and I ended up waiting at more lights than I wanted to count. And, just as I neared Lakeshore, somebody honked and slowed down.

"Great," I thought, "one more thing to slow me down. Here's somebody who wants directions."

But I was pleasantly surprised. It was one of the ladies from the running clinic I led at The Running Company this fall. She wanted to thank me for getting her running again, for motivating her. This morning, she ran her first 11K and she's registered to run a half-marathon in March. We chatted a bit and, before she drove off, she thanked me again and told me that I inspired her.

Wow! I was both flattered and delighted that I had such an impact on her. As I resumed my run, I couldn't help but notice that my steps were just a little bit lighter. Then, my thoughts drifted back to those summer runs.

Making It Work

2011-11-19T20:22:00.000-08:00

At one point or another, we have all been faced with a challenge or task that may initially seem impossible. Think back to when you first started running, for example, and you wanted to run a 5k or 10K but could barely make it through the first kilometre without stopping. Think about how many races you have finished since then and how each success has quickly led to another.

"The human body can only do so much," I once wrote. "Then, the heart and soul must take over."

Many years ago, I was no runner. In grade 6, I dreamed of being great - like Terry Fox - and I spent that summer running a mile every day, but that's all I could do - and I did it slowly. In Grade 10, I wanted to be on the track and field team and ended up running the 1500 metre event; I finished last - dead last. By Grade 12, I was slightly more athletic but still struggled to keep up with my classmates, whom I envied because they made running seem so easy.

In my late 20's, I became a half-decent runner. Sometime between Grade 6 and moving out of my parents' house, I realized that I had to push myself to go the distance I wanted and, then, I had to push myself again if I wanted to go faster. Once my heart and soul took over, I was able to accomplish some goals.

This is something we see again and again in our lives. It's one thing to dream or want, but it's something entirely to make it happen.

In the same way, when we encounter life's challenges, we sometimes need to dig deep in order to deal with them. We need to accept them, plan for them, and push ourselves to deal with them - like them or not. This is one of life's greatest lessons.

Challenges, running or otherwise, are overcome when there is committment. All you need is a plan to make things work.

Race Report: Casablanca Classic 8K, The Race

2011-11-15T20:32:00.001-08:00

Shelly summed up the mood at Saturday's 8K perfectly. "It sounds like an emotionally charged event," she wrote. And that it was.

Or perhaps it was just me who was emotionally charged. The day before, November 11th, I broke down in tears watching a Youtube clip on Remembrance Day and I barely held it together while supervising my classes at our school assembly. So it is possible that the presence of Veterans at the Casablanca Classic, the singing of O Canada, and the tribute to Jerry Friesen simply got to me. And with little time to turn off these emotions, this may have had an impact on my race.

Skipper and Little Ironman were there to see Daddy and me take off at the start. The horn started and I immediately complained to myself about starting a bit too far back. Next time....

The course is flat but it is also notoriously windy. We ran into the wind for the first few kilometres, turned into the wind, had a bit of a reprieve, and ran into the wind again. It was one of those circulating winds that you just can't escape. At 4K, I decided to pull back just a little so that I could put my effort into a stronger last 2-3 kilometres, which was bound to be easier with the wind on my back.

There were many women - and men - ahead of me and I worked to keep them in sight as long as I could. Then, once we passed the 5K marking, I started to increase my pace. By 6K, I felt that I would be able to catch some as long as I could hold my pace. I was driven; for the first time in months, I finally felt like I was racing (as opposed to simply running) hard.

The last 3 kilometres became "my race." I dug deep and ran strong. With the wind pushing me from 7k on, it almost seemed easy - but it wasn't. It was tough and hurt - the kind of hurt that feels good when it's over.

I did catch up to and passed a lot of girls and I ran down several men, and that always feels great. But there was one gal whom I couldn't quite catch, the one who finished one spot ahead of me. I was so close!

But not close enough. When results were posted, I learned that we were both 45-49; she was third, leaving me in the dreaded 4th place position. This was the first race in well over a year that I hadn't placed as an overall or age group winner, and that felt strange. But it put things in perspective for me: I have less that 2 years to go before I run with the 50 year olds so if I want to keep up with these "kiddos", I need to do more work - speedwork that is. That started tonight.

The dreaded fourth place, though, has become a story in itself. I finished 0.5 seconds behind the 3rd place winner. That's a measly 1/16 of a second per kilometre. I have a bank of several teenage phrases that I can pull from to describe my feelings over this one, but I'll let the 48 year old mother/teacher mind take over instead. But seriously? 0.5 seconds? I finished the race in 35:36, slower than a few weeks ago but on a much windier course - and with tired legs. I'll take it.

Looking back, this has made me realize how important the start of a race is. From the time before I step into the gates, I have to be ready to run - to visualize and focus. This too has been missing from my races and, yes, this has become something else for me to work on. It took me 4 seconds to cross the start, but it only took the #3 gal ahead of me 2 seconds. Hmmfff!

At school, I tell my students that no matter what their marks, there is always something that they can do to improve. Running is the same. This race, while not my best, made me realize that I have to have plan in place if I'm going to achieve my goals. What are your next steps to help you achieve your goals?

Race Report: Casablanca Classic 8K

2011-11-14T20:34:00.000-08:00

I've done my share of complaining this fall about needing more time to get things done. On Saturday morning, I could have done with a little less time.

Thinking it was a good idea two weeks ago, I registered for the Casablanca 8K in Grimsby, Ontario. However, I wasn't clearly thinking because I also had The Road2Hope Half-Marathon in the books just 6 days earlier. Yes, the math teacher didn't realize that there were only 6 days in between the quad-busting, downhill half-marathon course and the faster 8k route.

When I registered, my plan was to push myself more, to dig deep and bring my time below the 34:56 that I ran in Sunnybrook Park just two weeks earlier. On last Wednesday's recovery run, though, when I was busy sucking air and trying to move my legs forward, I realized that Saturday was likely going to be tough.

And in the days before the race, I suddenly realized that the Casablanca was the finale of a popular race series so some of this area's best runners were bound to be there.

Strangely enough, I wasn't worried. For me, the race was about time - about reaching a goal. The Casablanca was just going to be a training run. In fact, I was so laid back about the whole thing that I rode for 45 minutes on my windtrainer the night before the race, hoping it would flush my quads out a little bit more.

On Saturday morning, Dave, the boys and I left Oakville for a late but civilized 10:15 start. It seemed only fitting that this Remembrance Run for our veterans had also become a Memorial Run for its race director, Jerry Friesen, who had died while running the week before.

This resulted in a highly respectful starting line, one unlike any other that I had been in. As the race was now a Memorial Run, hundreds of runners (including hubby Dave) had registered during the week before to show their appreciation of Jerry Friesen's life. Veterans were also there, words were said about Jerry and O Canada was beautiful (and everyone around me was singing - highly unusual at any start).

Shortly after 10:15, the race started - and what a race it ended up becoming.

tomorrow: the race to finish

The Strongest Pillar

2011-11-12T18:14:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, a good friend of mine posted on her Facebook status, "My life is a circus...."

I knew exactly what she was talking about. Like so many women, I'm constantly juggling work, family, fitness and everything else that comes my way. The past month has been especially busy, leaving me feeling like the Ring Leader - either that or the Head Juggler. When I took this year's teaching assignment, I knew that I was going to be busy and that this year would be a big adjustment. The past three weeks have been the busiest as I've had reporting and report cards on top of the day to day teaching. Family is always going to be busy and I like it that way: positive stress. On any day and at any time, work and family have to be my priorities.

So where do running and fitness fit in? Whenever I can. Registering for races keeps me motivated. Sheer determination (and sometimes a bit of craziness) sends me out the door for a run or into the basement for a spin on the windtrainer. For the past few months, while work and family have been up and down, the fitness ball has been consistent and, hence, the strongest.

Over the past few weeks, while I've been glued to the computer wearing my teacher hat, I've had to shelve the blogging one. This week, Wednesday to be exact, I realized how important this part of my running - blogging and sharing the juggle of running and family - has become to me. Transforming the thoughts bouncing around in my head to text has been one victim of time. In the same way, I've tried to keep up with other runners through their own blogs and Facebook and other social media but, again, there is only so much time. Priorities.

As I'm nearing the end of this cycle, I'm setting running goals for the next six months. Among them are:
(1) run 4 to 5 times a week
(2) run a 34:30 8K race in early winter
(3) run a 1:35 half-marathon
(4) Boston - 3:30 to 3:40 - or just have fun while I'm there:)
(5)Write 4-5 times a week (bring back Tasty Tuesday and Wacky Wednesday, and introduce product reviews)
(6) Read and comment on blogs 4-5 times a week.

If you know me at all, you know that I'm a person who does what she says. So there you have it.

Let the fun times begin.

Wacky Wednesday

2011-11-02T20:54:00.000-07:00

Whether I'm wearing my teacher or parent hat, I find one of the most exciting things about child development is their acquisition of language.

At the end of June, Little Ironman was barely reading. He was only 5 1/2 and showed very little interest in books. One of my summer goals was to get him to an early grade 1 level by the time school started in September.

Now in November, LI loves to read and sounds out or reads everything he can. One of his favorite treats has become a trip to Chapters. With hours of report card writing on my horizon, I took him there last Saturday night, hoping that he would find a thick book that would distract him for the rest of the weekend (and, yes, when we have the perfect book, he will get lost in it for hours). While waiting for big brother, Skipper, to pick out his own book, I listened to LI as he read book titles at the store entrance.

"Siiiix On The Moon," he sounded out. One day, he'll learn that there isn't an 'e' in six.

And sure enough, as LI's reading is improving, so is his vocabulary. Today after school, he was a tad impatient and wanted me to hurry. "Hurry, Mom," he said. "Hurry like you're a marathon."
Once again, it wasn't worth clarifying but he sure made me smile.

The Creepy Mile

2011-10-23T20:48:00.000-07:00

The boys and I have run the Saucony Creepy Mile for the past three years. Every year, they start planning costumes months ahead of time. This year, in mid-July, they started hounding me about registering them for it.

Last week, I was taken aback when Skipper announced that he didn't want to run the Creepy Mile because he wanted to volunteer instead. Somehow, my almost 11 year old has acquired more race volunteer experience that most adults and, for whatever reason, helping out at The Trek or Treat was something that he really wanted to do. So, I swallowed my words ("But I paid for your registration already!") and made arrangements for him to marshall and man a water station. That left Little Ironman to run The Creepy Mile with me.

In July, LI entrusted Superfriend Katherine (pictured with LI) with one of his favorite Batman characters so that she could make his costume. When she dropped it off last weekend, LI was delightfully speechless. He had spent many, many nights dreaming of becoming his Superhero. However, on Friday night, just 15 minutes before we were about to leave, LI said that he didn't want to race. So I did what any mom would do; I threw his costume in a bag and took it with us, hoping that he would change his mind.

Once we got to St. Volodymor's Cultural Centre, where the race was held, LI turned quiet. I could tell that he was completely overwhelmed by the huge crowd, the costumes and the noise. Daddy and I asked him several times if he was ready to get dressed but he consistently replied, "No."

"Four minutes until the start of the Creepy Mile" we heard on the PA.

"Wait, Mommy, I've changed my mind. I think I want to race."

With Superhero speed, we peeled off his shoes, put on Batman's suit, mask, hat, utlitly belt, gloves, boots and his own shoes again, and headed to the start. Hundreds of children and their parents already left. LI wasn't at all phased, though. He started to run but, within seconds, realized that Mom was right and he should wait until after the race to put Batman's boots on. Daddy was now on the scene and, together, we pulled off his running shoes, pried off his boots, stuck LI's feet back into his shoes and started to run. LI stopped again, this time to take off his hat for Daddy to hold. And, we took off again; this time was the real thing.

By now, LI was a good 3 minutes behind the other kids. While we ran, I remembered last year's race in Ancaster, when I started about 5 minutes behind everyone else and tore up the road to the start, only to see the siren of the police car in the distance, following the last runner. Like I was then, LI was determined to chase down as many kids as he could - for about 500 metres. Then, he stopped cold. "Mommy, where is my mask?"

Gone. Somehow, Daddy dropped LI's mask in the dark. I suggested that I run back to look for it but LI wanted to run with me (probably because of my own sidekick alter-ego). He didn't whine, and he didn't cry. Without thinking twice, he started to run again.

Just before the halfway point, I realized that Batman's utility belt had fallen off. I asked Dave if he had, really hoping for a yes, but it was definitely missing too. We said nothing to LI.

Shortly after, LI stopped at the water station, completely focussed on being able to get a drink rather than a candy bar in the orange bowl. He had a few sips and, then, handed me his cup. "I'm all done," he innocently said, leaving me forced to finish his water and return the cup rather than toss it on the ground as I normally do; he wouldn't have understood that. Then, we headed back into the cemetery and raced to the finish. He was happily tired.

If we take off the time missed at the start, Little Ironman (still 5 years old) ran a sub-10 minute mile. I was really proud of him, especially when some of my 9 year olds at school can't run that fast.

And I was equally proud of him for not being upset about his missing accessories (yes, we told him about the belt after he finished running). I ran back along the course later that night to try to find them (a mother's love can make you do crazy things; it was really dark and lonely that time) but had no luck. With Halloween only a week away, Superfriend Katherine is quickly putting together another utility belt and I'm working on a mask. Batman will run again.

Both boys had a great night. LI was excited about running so well and proud of his finisher's ribbon and Skipper loved being able to volunteer. I'm sure that we will return next year, one way or another, for this spooky family run.

Race Report: Trek or Treat

2011-10-22T17:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not a fan of Halloween. Don't get me wrong. I love helping my boys put their costumes together and giving out candy at the door. But I hate dressing up.

Little Ironman, on the other hand, loves being dramatic and can make a costume out of just about anything. He loves Halloween - not because of the candy, but because he gets to dress up and run around in the dark. Every summer, as soon as school is out, he starts to think about what he is going to be. This year, he dreamed of being Batman and wearing his costume to The Trek or Treat Creepy Mile because "Batman is fast so I'll win."

Superfriend Katherine came to the rescue to design and make a costume for LI, and I registered both boys for The Creepy Mile. Then, I impulsively decided to run the 5K, a mostly trail run which finishes past the cemetery.

Since I was crazy enough to put my road-running legs on the trails in the dark, I figured I might as well dress up too. LI and Skipper decided that SuperMom was the way to go. "And your shirt is easy," piped up LI. "All you need is an S and a M on a heart." No comments, please. I pulled everything together except the emblem; Superfriend Katherine surprised me with that too.

Since this was my first trail race ever and my first race in the dark ever, I was pretty nervous. But I didn't wear my racing hat; I was just there to have fun. I realized how relaxed I really was about this just being another run when I lined up for the bathroom. "Forget this," I thought to myself. "I'm not wasting my time in line; it's ridiculously long." Yup, you know you're relaxed about a race when your last bathroom visit was two hours beforehand and you just don't care.

I think there were just as many runners dressed to race as there were in costume. The more serious, dressed-to-race runners were at the front and I positioned myself just behind them and my friend, Graham, who was sporting a very large and round Pikachou costume. I couldn't figure out why he was so close to the front but I didn't ask; I was quite content to stay behind him.

Within the first kilometre, runners had to pass around the left or right side of a gate. Graham, whom I had already passed, was catching up to me and said, "You go right, Cynthia," and he went left. Thank goodness, I thought, because if he went first and got stuck going through with me behind him, I'd be ticked. Then I realized that I had just made this more than a friendly night run.

Once we got into the trails, I thought about the women that I had seen ahead of me and decided to try to catch them. But I couldn't push myself. Well, it was more like I didn't want to push myself. I was worried about missing a step or landing the wrong way. So, I ran with what felt comfortable and safe. When we came out of the trails and onto some residential streets (for about 500 metres), I caught two gals. Then, back into the woods, I resumed my stance.

About half-way through, I heard someone catching up to me. But the breathing was different. It didn't sound like a woman panting to catch me but the breaths were too short and quick to be a man's who runs my pace (which usually sounds more relaxed). I listened and tried to quicken my step but the breathing got closer and closer. Then, it happened. I got passed by a cow. But it was a skinny cow. Still, it was a cow.

Not knowing whether the cow was male or female, I tried to stay with it as long as I could but I just could not catch it. When we came out of the trails again, all I could see ahead of me was big yellow Pikachou and a skinny cow. I had been put in my place.

I chased both of them through the cemetery and we finished within a minute of each other. I learned later that the cow was a 15 to 19 year old male.

When I finished, I wasn't tired at all. In fact, I didn't even feel like I had raced. And I had no idea how I had placed because I felt alone (and a little creeped out) most of time. This made it clear that I did what I set out to do: to have fun.

Once results were up, I learned that the first three gals were high school runners. I was a solid fourth, in a time of 22:22 (not bad for my first trail run) which earned me a medal and a pink Saucony vest.

On Friday, I was telling some of the kids in my class about the race and my dressing up as SuperMom. "You're Batman's sidekick?" one of them asked. "That's cool." I wonder what they'll say when they hear that his sidekick was passed by a cow. Geesh!

Durolane

2011-10-17T20:28:00.000-07:00

This summer, I counted umpteen days when I was thankful that I lived in Canada. Our health care is excellent and when services aren't covered by the government, I can usually count on my work benefits to do so.

In August, Dr. Elliott, my sports med. doctor, suggested a Durolane injection for my knee. He felt that my knee needed to be treated as osteo-arthritis, not as a typical tear or injury. The durolane, he said, is a one-time injection that would lubricate the knee and help protect the joint for up to 9 months. I asked if it would mask any pain and was told 'no'. Dr. Elliott felt it would be a win-win.

Usually I trust doctor's advice without question but this time, I hesitated. I needed to do more research first. And, I needed to find out if there really was something wrong with my knee.

The first thing I did was check my benefits plan as the injection is expensive - really expensive. Mine did not cover it, but my husband's did. Now, it was just a matter of choice; would durolane be right for me?

I searched on the web and everything I read was negative. My sample size was limited, though; I couldn't trust it. I called my chiropractor to see if he had ever heard of it - no. I checked a medical site and found all sorts of information about the drug and, while it did sound like it would help, I still wasn't convinced. What I really needed was a diagnosis.

My MRI was at the beginning of September and I just got my results two weeks ago. Yes, there is a tear - a micro one at the back of the knee. Should I worry? No, said my doctor, because I am not showing any clinical signs; it is more like osteo-arthritis, he said again. Dr. Elliott also told me that since running is directional movement, the knee is more controlled. If I were a hockey, soccer or basketball player, it would probably mean taking time off. Thank goodness that I run.

Once again, Dr. Elliott suggested Durolane to offer more cushioning to that area of the knee. The decision suddenly became easy. I did want it to make things more comfortable for me. It did seem that it would only help. Sold.

This past Thursday, I headed to Dr. Elliott's office for my injection. As expected, my knee was sore but I was able to ride the next day, and run just two days later. Progress.

And now I am more confidently building my mileage base and feeling ready to run for both distance and speed - but not at the same time yet. Soon, though, very soon.

Words to Live By

2011-10-16T20:29:00.000-07:00

My grandmother taught me, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." These are words that I try to live by.

I think that this is one of the reasons that I haven't been writing as much as I want to. Yes, the September start-up at school was busy and didn't leave me with a lot of extra time at night (and still doesn't, the difference now being that we're halfway through October), but I think that I was worried about how my writing would come across.

Over the past three weeks, there has been a huge swing in how my running life is going. I headed a learn-to-run clinic for 6 weeks (which ended last weekend), worked at an expo and ran a solid 10K. Even with such fun things happening, I was down on my running and had problems putting my thoughts down without sounding like a negative Nelly.

On Tuesday night, when I ran with Shawn, we talked about the 5K that we raced the day before, going over what went well and what didn't. Aside from feeling lousy, I knew that I didn't push myself enough. I held back. And, then I said it. "I just don't have the confidence yet to push myself more."

That was it. I realized that I've been holding back for the past six weeks, worried that I might aggravate my leg. At the same time, though, I've been doing everything right. I've kept up with physiotherapy and regular routines at home to strengthen the muscles, I'm wearing orthotics now and I'm going to acupuncture on a regular basis. Perhaps I'm doing so much that I've convinced myself that things are worse than they really are.

When the words popped out, I had an "Aha!" moment. I do have it in me. I am ready to push myself.

This weekend, I ran 12 miles - a distance that I haven't seen in months. Better yet, though, I did that after running close to 5 miles less than 24 hours before.

My plan is set for the next two and a half months and I'm excited about it. This gal is ready to go.

I'm feeling strong. I'm ready to push.

Thankful Thursday - Running with Company

2011-10-13T20:14:00.000-07:00

Usually when I race, I look forward to being competitive - to pushing myself as hard as I can and hoping for an award of some kind. I had a feeling that Monday's race was going to be tough. After all, I am still on the i-list (micro-tear was confirmed last week so I'm hesitant to push myself too much) and my training is down. The age categories also have a ten year spread and I'm almost at the top of mine. sigh...

However, I was really looking forward to the 5KSM Turkey Run because I was going to be able to spend the morning with some great friends.

Since I knew so many people who were going to be at the race, I worked to pull together a community team, running under The Running Company name. Shawn immediately agreed to being a part of it, as did our friend Darryl, who is back into racing after an almost 20 year absence (in high school, he ran an 8:30 3000m time). Graham declined because he wanted to run the 5K with his 8 year old, who was running his first 5K. Delilah's boyfriend, Jimmy, jumped on board and that left us needing one more runner.

Out of the blue, my friend, Liz, e-mailed me to say that her sons, 16 and 13, were going to run the race too. Both are strong runners; David ran a 16+ minute 5K last year when he was 15, and Tommy is usually right behind me at the races. I'm always proud to say that I coached them when they were at my school and I was thrilled that I was going to see them on Monday morning. Thanks to Liz and her sons, our team was complete. We're still waiting for official results, but it seems that we did win the Open Community Team. Yeah, Team Running Company!

I wasn't just surrounded by my running mates, though. My walking friend, Carleen, was also at the race with her two sons. Carleen is another Super Mom in town who is busy with work and always has something on the go, but she always makes time for family, friends and fitness. On Monday, her dedication to power walking earned her a first place overall finish. Way to go, Carleen!

The morning wasn't just about spending times with friends who run but spending time with friends and making new ones. Delilah, with her foot in a cast, was there to cheer us on and I was thrilled to be able to spend some time with her. And after the race, I finally introduced myself to a few Toronto Olympic Club runners, whom Shawn and I frequently pass on our Wednesday night runs. These two "kids", both probably less than half my age, invited us to run with them (The TOC, they sais, is looking for Masters runners). Now that I've actually spoken with them and not just waved hello, I think I just might try to keep up with them one Monday night.

Later in the evening, I realized how much running has shaped my life over the past few years. Or maybe, my life has shaped my running. Either way, I'm grateful to have so many friends - and only some are mentionned here - to share it with.

The 5KSM Turkey Run: Race Report

2011-10-10T20:47:00.000-07:00

This 5K run is a special one for me. A lot of that has to do with it being so close to home, being one of my first successful races after a long absence from running (pregnancies and sick kids will do that to you), and simply being for a good cause - to support the Kerr Street Ministries.

This year, the race has become one that is very close to home as, back in January, my husband volunteered to take on the role of Race Director. For the past several months, and especially over the past few weeks, planning the race seems to have taken over our lives. On a positive note, though, Hubs has been more inclined to come to races with me to promote his event and see what is going on at other races.

Behind every successful race director is a supportive spouse but there was no way that I was going to give up the opportunity to run this event to help him out on race day. For the past year, this was a target race for me - the race where I was going to push for a 20 minute 5K. That plan changed when I was out for the summer.

However, since running again, I looked at the 5KSM as a chance to push myself, to see where I really was in my training after being off for more than 8 weeks. I actually studied my 5k times for the past year, and I planned my pacing. I thought that I should be able to run 21:30 - half a minute slower than last year's race but over a minute faster than what I was running a few weeks ago.

Instead of counting sheep in bed last night, I thought about splits: 4:15, 8:30, 12:45 - no, that might be too fast. 4:18, 8:36, 12:54 - too much to think about during a race.

But with this morning's bright sun, I wasn't able to see the time on my watch anyway. All I could see was the glare from the sun's rays. So, I did what I tend to do anyways: I ran by feel.

And I felt terrible. Somewhere between the first and second kilometre, my left hamstring tightened on me; all I could do was run to loosen it up until I was ready to push again. Just before 3K, my quads felt ready to burst - likely a result of Saturday's 8 miles and Thursday's interval session with Shawn. Yes, looking back, rest would have been a good idea if I wanted to truly be serious about today's race. Truthfully, I suppose I wasn't worried about today. All I really wanted out of it was a good time - literally and figuratively.

And my time was good - 21:31 (or 21:26 if you believe in chip time) - and I placed 8th female. What really surprised me, though, is that I placed 4th female in my age group, 40-49. It's true; that group of women is becoming one of the most competitive groups running.

And I had a great time figuratively. But that's tomorrow's post.

Wacky Wednesday: Homework

2011-10-05T03:53:00.000-07:00

This weekend, Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving. In my community, students have an extra day off school, Friday, due to the Professional Development day on Friday. This encourages some families to turn the four day break into a mini-holiday and take off Thursday too.

Yesterday, on his way out of class, Jim told me that he wouldn't be at school on Thursday.

"Oh, where are you going?"
"Boston," he replied sheepishly, obviously aware that he was skipping school. "Um, is there anything you want me to do when I'm away?"
"Yes! I want you to check out the marathon course and tell me everything you can about it."

His face lit up.

And, now, I have to figure out how I'm going to assess it. Any ideas?

I might have just impressed the boys

2011-10-02T20:04:00.000-07:00

This morning was one of "many firsts in a long time." Knowing that I had a busy day ahead of me, I dragged myself out of bed in the dark to run - something I haven't done since spring. The temperature dropped considerably last night so I ended up running in 5 degree temps (celcius); again, the last time I ran when it was that cold was at the marathon in May.

One of the firsts that I am most proud of, though, is the distance - 10.3 miles. I tried to run it two weeks ago but I had everything going against me. I started late in the day, I was exhausted from the busy start of back to school, it was hot and my meds for asthma were down to empty. Last week I raced a 10K so today was the first time since that I could try again. I knew that pacing was key so I went out slowly and finished 77 minutes later, giving me a 7:28 mile pace. I was pretty darn proud of myself.

For two weeks, running that route had become a bit of a monkey on my back. The last time I ran it was the day that Gastroc really started to nag at me. It was the beginning of the arguing that Gastroc and I had all summer; I wanted to run but he just wouldn't let me. Now, after weeks of physiotherapy, acupuncture and purchasing orthotics, Gastroc has given up. He has packed his bags and moved out - hopefully, for good. And, I'm feeling great. Finishing that distance and that route this morning tells me that I am ready to push again.

Today marks the longest run that I've had since June 12th and it marks the longest weekly mileage that I've had since mid-May. Yes, I'm smiling about those firsts too.

But the first that makes me giggle the most is Skipper's reaction when I got back home. The boys were getting ready for Church and Skipper wanted me to brush his long hair (which, by the way, he has been growing for the past 12 months for charity). When I stood in front of him, he complained, "Ah, Mom!"

"I didn't pull your hair," I told him.

"No, you stink! Can you do this quickly, please. Yuck!"

Really? Me, who takes great care in laundering so that her clothes last and last? I stink? Unbelievable!

And, then, I felt pretty proud of myself: my 11 year old son just complained about body odour - on me! For some strange reason, I'm feeling pretty proud about that too.

What a Whirlwind September was!

2011-09-30T20:23:00.000-07:00

This past week has perfectly summed up my past month: racing again, incredibly busy at work and constantly juggling the demands that come with parenting. On two days, I watched those worlds collide.

But, in between those days, the worlds also came together. On Monday, after a frustrating day at work, I decided to bake some cookies; for whatever reason, the sound of a mixer is therapeutic. Not tonight, though. I needed more. Less than an hour later, I was pulling on my running gear.

"Please, Mommy, I want to come with you."
"It's dark, Sweetheart. I'm going alone."
"I promise I won't stop, Mommy. I'll ride as fast as I can so you won't have to stop and wait for me."

Hmm, I've heard those words before. Skipper's job as bike buddy has slowly been taken over by Little Ironman, who is off his training wheels and becoming his own machine. Is it worth arguing with a child who wants to exercise?

I reminded myself that I didn't need to run hard as I had just raced the 10K the morning before. I also realized that dragging LI out for 5 miles would guarantee an easy bedtime. So, I clipped a Road ID firefly on the back of his sweater and we headed out the door.

Thirty-five minutes and close to five miles later, LI parked his bike in the garage and headed to the bathtub. Soon after, he was sound asleep and I was back to planning lessons.

The giggles that we shared and the hug good-night made this run worth the effort of juggling the balls (school, family, fitness). Now if I could just figure out how to keep them up in the air for the next 7 months, training for Boston will be a piece of cake.

Tick Tock Goes the Clock

2011-09-23T20:08:00.000-07:00

Last week, I turned 48. I'm not excited about aging - not at all - but I am excited about being able to say "I can't wait to turn 50, and I hope I can still run like I can today."

I haven't really paid much attention to the influence that our fitness levels have over us. Sure, I realize that it's importance to say fit and active; we all know that. Sadly, though, I've watched the degeneration of someone very close to me and I can't help but think "If only she were more active when she was younger."

My mother has Alzheimer's. She was diagnosed two years ago but the signs have been present for many more, perhaps close to a decade. Now, almost 72, she is living in her own personal hell. My children are nameless; she has difficulty remembering conversations that happened less than an hour ago; my dad is now referred to as "this man". Mom's energy is lower than it has been in years and it takes great effort to get her out of the house. Watching this change in a once very intelligent woman has been heart-breaking.

Like so many other crippling illnesses, no one knows the cause. We do know that the brain is much smaller than in a healthy adult's and that cells are dying; both indicate that there is less blood circulation.

Looking back to my childhood, my mom was always busy doing "mom chores". She drove us to lessons, cooked, cleaned, bought groceries, hemmed pants - everything a 70's mom did and more. And she read - a lot. Busy and smart, yes, but, as an adult, she was never truly active. I can honestly say that I don't think she ever did much to boost her cardio, to elevate her heart rate enough to create a healthy blood flow through her body.

Now, I can't help but wonder if a more active lifestyle might have made a difference. It may have delayed Alzheimer's onset. And it may have slowed its progression. But there is always the possibility that it wouldn't have changed this at all.

However, seeing what I have and knowing what I do makes me realize how important it is that I remain active. Running and fitness clear my mind of the day's events; they remove the negatives and make more space for the more important things; they give me time to think, to synthesize and to analyze life. If nothing else, they give me happy memories - memories that, I hope, will last a lifetime.

Knowing When to Call it Quits

2011-09-18T12:08:00.001-07:00

Today's plan was to run 10 miles. It should have been easy enough as I was just shy of that last week, and I ran a fast 8 miles with Shawn on Wednesday.

Perhaps it was the long week that I had at work - with 6 cross-country practices and a coaching clinic yesterday morning - that drained me. It could be the cold that I'm fighting. Or, perhaps it was the longer mileage that I accumulated last week after being off for most of the summer. Whatever it was, it stopped me from running my goal distance.

After sleeping in this morning (and skipping Church to do so), I headed out feeling good. Three miles into my run, my breathing seemed off. Less than a mile later, I knew what I had to do: bail while it was still easy to do so and log 5 miles instead.

Am I disappointed in me? Not at all. Last week, I ran 22 miles - which may not sound like much but it is the longest weekly mileage I've had since the beginning of June - and I still ran a total of 19 miles this week. I'm racing a 10K next Sunday, and I have other racing goals for the fall. I don't need to burn myself out on a training run this early in the season only to jeopardize the "big" ones.

I can't make up this run, but I can comfortably write it off. There are plenty of other weekends ahead to conquer my 10 miler.

Two Down, Thirty-Eight to Go.

2011-09-17T20:06:00.000-07:00

If you are a teacher, you would know immediately that I'm referring to the weeks in the school year. Yesterday marked the end of the first two weeks.

It's a well-known fact that the first two weeks of school are the most important - for teachers and students. During that time, learning goals are established, respect is gained and the classroom dynamics for the next forty weeks of school are set. What happens in the first two weeks will determine what happens in the last two.

This, then, explains my absence from blogging in the past two weeks. Ironically, on each and every day of those two weeks, something in my world of running has happened that I wanted to write about. Time: it has the ultimate power over us.

I spoke with my class last week about setting goals. "Without goals," I told them, "we don't have a purpose. It doesn't matter if your goals are academic, sports, musical, social - but you need to have goals."

So now I am practising what I preach and have set a new goal: write at least four times a week. (And, in the same way, another goal is to run at least four times a week.) Like running, writing is an escape; it's therapeutic; it allows me to connect with a circle of friends. I'm now juggling four balls in the air: work, family, running and writing.

But the thing that is going to pull them all together - this year, at least - is my training for the Boston Marathon! Yes, I registered on Monday and received my confirmation on Wednesday. The hotel is booked and I'm already trying to decide what to wear.

Wants, Needs and Musts

2011-09-11T20:54:00.000-07:00

There are times when I am an expert at procrastinating. Last Sunday was a great example. Rather than get up early and work away at the dozens of little tasks that teachers need to do on the weekend before school starts, I got up early and went for a run. Then, I went to Church, drove to Toronto to visit my parents, cleaned the house (my favorite side-task)....But I still managed to get everything ready for Tuesday morning.

I haven't put anything off since then. I simply don't have the time I need to get everything done. This is my year of change and I knew I was going to be busy. I'm back in the classroom with two grade 6 classes, each of almost 30 students. The program is fast-paced which means that I'm always on - teaching, planning, marking, and communicating. It means that I don't have time to mess around.

Last week, my first week back, I constantly felt pressed for time - for planning, family, fitness, blogging, sleeping....The list goes on.

For me, this is going to be a year of prioritizing: what needs to get done and what has to get done. And, as registration for Boston opens tomorrow at 10:00, I've had to decide where that falls on my list. Is it a need or is it a must?

Really, it's a want. I don't have to go to Boston but I've had so much encouragement from friends and family that registering for it has become a must. From that comes the need to run Boston and run it well - so that I don't have to run another marathon to return in 2013.

Dave is home tomorrow and he has the "how to" list. It is not the day to sleep in, nor is it the day to mess up. Instead, tomorrow is going to become a game of patience and perseverence.

This morning, perhaps I shouldn't have procrastinated getting out of bed for Church as that only resulted in my rolling over and falling back to sleep. Yes, this morning would have been a good day to pray.

My New Gig

2011-09-05T20:23:00.000-07:00

For the past few weeks, I've been bursting with excitement and wanting to write about this new gig but I've kept it pretty quiet - just in case.

I worked in fitness decades - yes, decades - ago. When I graduated from university, I worked in a bank and taught aerobics, 1980's (aka Richard Simmons) style aerobics. I had the high-top shoes, the leg warmers, the music. Yup, I was cool and, fortunately, I don't have any pictures to show you how cool I really was.

Since I've started to run seriously again, I've had this burning desire to get into coaching. I suppose the combination of my Simmons years and teaching experience has ignited this spark, and it's likely been fuelled by the coaching that I've done at school. So when I was asked to lead a Run for Fun group at The Running Company, I jumped at the opportunity.

This clinic is unique as half of the cost goes towards the target race, 5KSM, or 5K for the Kerr Street Ministries, which will be on October 10th. This means that the participants are doing something for themselves while supporting a local charity.

Because of this unique approach, our town's paper, The Oakville Beaver, wanted to write an article about the clinic and do a photo shoot of yours truly. One hot August morning, dressed in Brooks gear (since Brooks is also sponsoring the target race), I ran up and down the street for about twenty minutes, trying to look fresh, relaxed, happy - okay, to look good. Obviously, those shots were not because the picture that ended up in the paper was the one of me standing next to the sign, or "posing with a sign" as the caption read. Posing!

Saturday morning was the first day. There are 17 registered, of which 5 planned to be away for the long weekend. I love the enthusiasm that this green group brings with them.

I'm hoping that this might lead to other exciting ventures - what, though, I'm not sure. Right now, it's new and exciting for me too - the kind of exciting that makes me want to get up early on a Saturday morning, and you can't beat that.

Great Things Happening Here

2011-09-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

At the time of writing, school starts in 41 hours and I'm a little bit panicky about it - if you couldn't tell by the fairly accurate hourly estimation. Okay, perhaps I'm not that worried about it because I only measured the time in hours, not in hours/minutes/seconds. But it's the first day of school and we teachers always worry about the first day back.

This year, I'm especially excited about Day One because I'm going back into the classroom. After working as a Special Education Resource Teacher for the past four years, I've decided to face a class of students again. I took the position in May but wasn't able to share that information until teaching assignments have been officially released to the public; that was hard and I spent most of the summer itching to spill the beans.

The past two weeks have been busy: planning, cleaning, setting up the classroom....The list is endless. One of the great things about teaching is there is always something else to do; it keeps me busy and challenged - two things that I love.

However, last week I did not want to be busy with work. I wanted a little more time so that I could write and share the amazing week that I had in my running life. I wanted to write about the race where I placed first female, about the best ever interval session I had on Wednesday, and the running clinic that I started to coach yesterday. I wanted to share that this is the highest mileage week that I've had since the beginning of June (with a little bit of achiness, though) and that it looks like a fall half-marathon is in the cards.

Life is a balancing act, a constant juggle of priorities. But, for the first time in years, I'm starting to feel that I'm getting better at it.

Wacky Wednesday

2011-08-31T19:30:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, my friend took this picture of me warming up for the Sunset Shuffle. Behind me is Little Ironman on two wheels, who proudly tells everyone that he can ride his bike with me when I run.

This is going to be one of my favorite pictures for years to come. I still can't figure out, though, what the sign behind him says. Or...is it a gas bubble?

The Balancing Act

2011-08-30T19:45:00.000-07:00

Last week, my acupuncturist/physiotherapist said that the improvement in my leg has been great and that she doesn't need to see me for a few more weeks. Yahoo! However, there are a few exercises that she still wants to me do to keep strengthening the muscles that support my knees.

First, there are the lunges. I hate lunges. I think it's because they remind me of high school when we had to Canada's Fitness Test: how far can you run in 12 minutes; how many lunges can you do in a minute; how many chin-ups can you do, and so on.

Now that I'm a big girl, I don't have to bore myself with repetition; I just have to do 10 good lunges on each side. Usually, I just do them when I have nothing better today; today, though, I decided to do them after my run and that was exhausting; I couldn't make it past 8 before I lost my balance.

The second exercise uses equipment. Keeping my hips level and facing forward, I support my weight on one leg while standing on a disc and holding a hockey stick (this is such a Canadian exercise to do). During my first week, we started with 30 second holds on each side for 3 minutes; on Week Two, we bumped the time to 1 minute each side for 3 repeats; now, I hold for 3 minutes on each side - no repeats.

I like both of these exercises because they are fairly easy to do anywhere. This year, I'll likely bring a disc and stick to school with me so that I can get these out of the way during lunch time. I can't wait to see what my grade 6 boys say when they see the disc; I think I already know who will be the first to ask me where I got such a big whoopee cushion.

The Magic of Medicine and Running

2011-08-25T20:18:00.000-07:00

Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to make him better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster.

The Six Million Dollar Man was one of my favorite t.v. shows when I was growing up. There was something magical about using science and technology to help astronaut Steve Austin not only survive a near fatal accident but acquire what could be called Superhero powers.

Almost four decades later, Oscar Pistorius has ignorantly been referred to as today's Bionic Man. Why? Despite being born without fibulas in both legs, Pistorius has learned to run and compete against able-bodied athletes. Last month in Italy, running on his prosthetics, Pistorius ran 400 metres in 45.07 - strong enough to earn him a spot on the South African team for this month's World Championships and to allow him to compete for a spot in the 2012 London Olympics. Amazing.

But not everyone supports these decisions. A few years ago, Pistorius was banned by the IAFF from competing, supposedly because his prosthetics, his blades, gave him an unfair advantage over those athletes running on their own legs. Some claimed that Pistorius's prothestics were lighter and, hence, required less force; others argued that Pistorius didn't have to spend as much time with his blades on the ground. Today, despite that decision being reversed, skeptics continue to claim that Pistorius has a competitive advantage.

Nonsense! Pistorius is equal to his running peers. He has learned to walk and move forward on his prothetics, he has learned to run - to propel himself forward and met International Standards. Most importantly, though, he has also learned to listen to his heart and chase his dreams.

I can't help but think of my diabetic friend who, like Pistorius, has had to overcome physical adversity to become a great runner. By learning to run with a pump which injects insulin when her blood sugar levels change, she has grown into a sub-20 5K runner. Does the pump give her an unfair advantage? One could argue that her sugar levels really never drop as they do in other runners. Like Pistorius, though, she is just like any other runner - only she has fought diabetes and struggles to control it so that she can run competitively.

Similarly, I have learned to run with asthma. Thanks to medical science, my puffer allows me to keep my lung capacity at a normal level. Does this give me an advantage? Do puffers give runners an extra edge? No. In fact, studies have shown that puffers used by non-asthmatic runners result in no difference in their lung capacities. I, too, have had to fight asthma and learn to control it so that I can continue to run.

As our society is becoming more and more accepting of differences, the images of competitive sport can only change. The magic of science has allowed more and more people to be both active and competitive; medicine is opening the doors for many who wouldn't have had these same opportunities just decades ago.

Pistorius walked through one of those doors and now it appears that he will earn a spot in the 2012 Olympics. Incredible.

Whose Punishment is This?

2011-08-21T16:14:00.000-07:00

I had two fairly good races this week - The Acura 5K and The Sunset Shuffle (6K) - and I didn't have any aches or pains. This led my confident decision that I could run the Carrotfast 5k on Saturday morning. My only reason for wanting to race was pure vanity: I wanted to be able to compete in the Ontario Masters Association 5K Championship race.

Skipper and Little Ironman were excited about being able to go to another race with me and we talked about them doing the 2.5 Family Walk/Run. LI has been asking all summer to run "an adults' race" so he was particularly keen to go.

On Friday afternoon, though, it was one thing after another with the boys. Yes, they had a late night on Thursday night and were up early the next morning so they were tired. But in our house, tired is not an excuse for poor behaviour; we don't use excuses. I had finally had enough when I exclaimed, "One more problem from you two and we're not going tomorrow!"

Oh, oh! I said it. That meant that I had to follow through if there was any more yelling, squabbling, or generally uncooperative behaviour. And, then it happened: a shriek from the family room.

I didn't get angry. I didn't yell. I simply declared, "That's it. We're not going to Bradford in the morning." And I walked away.

Tears. Apologies. More tears, followed by lots and lots of promises to "behave" which were, then, followed by tough parenting. I didn't give in.

The boys set the table, had dinner, helped tidied up and became little angels. Not once, though, did they ask me to change my mind; they knew it was made up.

But I kicked myself. In teaching, we try not to keep our cherubs in at recess because we have to stay with them, which means that we can end up feeling punished too. In the same way, on Friday night, I felt that I had punished myself. My husband asked if I was sure that I made the right decision.

"Don't mess with me. They need to understand. I think we'd be making a mistake to take them."

Rather than get upset about my "stupid" statement, I focussed on the positives:
1. My boys would learn their lesson.
2. I didn't have to drag the family for an hour drive north on an early Saturday morning.
3. I could rest another day and try to run longer on Sunday during my recovery period.

And, now, almost 2 days later, the benefits are huge:
1. Skipper and Little Ironman have been on their toes all weekend as behaviour expectations have been re-established.
2. I went back to bed yesterday morning for a wonderful nap.
3. I ran 5.5 miles today without any fatigue and I'm starting to think about running longer races in the late fall - something I hadn't really considered feasible two weeks ago.

All weekend, no one has asked when my next race is going to be.

Tough parenting. Tough love. Tough mother runner.

p.s. And, by the way, I don't hesitate to keep in my cherubs at recess either.

Race Report: Sunset Shuffle, 6K

2011-08-19T20:12:00.001-07:00

Last night, the boys and I headed to Ward's Island to run the Sunset Shuffle. This has been a favorite race of ours for years. Skipper and Little Ironman have both "run" it in their baby joggers and have medals to show for it; Skipper came 2nd overall and, a few years later, Little Ironman came home with a 40-49 medal. Yesterday, though, was Mommy and Daddy's night to race and Superfriend, Delilah, came to mind the boys (and take pictures).
There are two things I like about this race. First, I know the course well because I have run it several times. Second, while it is a low-key race, it can draw some good local competition.
Just before the start, we were told that there was a slight change in the course from previous years; we had to turn right at an intersection and run the course backwards to what we use to run. The reason was simple: the front runners didn't have to cut in front of the others on the home stretch.
However, this meant that the first 3.5k were running into the wind so, when the gun sounded, I tried to stay back. Honestly, I didn't feel quite ready for 6K yet and I didn't want to tire at the end because I went out too hard. Surprisingly, it was easy to hold my position for the first 6 minutes as there were some over-sized women in front of me who were impossible to get around. I just stuck behind them and moved ahead when the time was right.
One of the things that I found frustrating at this race was I never really had a sense of how I was running compared to other women. I saw who was obviously going to be the lead gal take off at the start and there was a pack of 5 or 6 of us within 200 metres of each other for the first half of the race. I had no idea who and how many women were in between. I went out too fast (my first kilometre was 4:10) so I forced myself to slow down - a lot - and stayed with the pack as long as I could.
By the time I got to 4K, I was fairly confident that I could hold my spot - even though I didn't really know what that meant. I was running comfortable and my fear of running out of gas before I finished had disappeared. About 8 minutes later, I crossed the finish line, finishing the 6K in 26:53. Dave also finished strong, but a bit further back, crossing in 32:36, which meant he was hold a 5:30 kilometre.

The home stretch.

Official results still aren't posted, but rumour has it that I was fifth female. Nobody really seems to know for sure (I told you it was low-key). We are certain, though, that I was first in my age group, 40-49, and I have the medal picture to prove it. This was a big paparazzi moment for me as all sorts of men (and Delilah) insisted on taking pictures of us; I was literally blinded by the flashes going off.

Paparazzi Moment

Should I have run this race, especially with it being so soon after Sunday's? Probably not, but I felt fine so I went for it, and I'm glad that I did.

Will I race tomorrow? No way! But that's another story.

Thankful Thursday

2011-08-18T20:35:00.000-07:00

My family headed over to Ward Island tonight to run (or watch) The Sunset Shuffle 6K, in support of the Mount Sinai Sports Medical Clinic run by Dr. Ron Taylor (also the legendary pitcher who was helped win two World Series). The logistics of getting to this race - travelling to Toronto, parking, taking the ferry - make it a difficult one to run, especially with the boys. But Dr. Taylor was my GP when we lived in Toronto, he still sees my husband and he knew Skipper when he was just a fetus. So, really, how could I not want to support this run.

This summer, I simply accepted the fact that I wouldn't be racing The Shuffle this year. A few weeks ago, when Dave suggested that we register, I thought he was crazy as I wasn't even running at that point. But then I realized: he wanted to run the 6K. So, I registered him - and me.

My reasoning was quite simple. First, the race was likely to sell out so I could likely sell my bib if I decided not to run. Secondly, Little Ironman has been wanting to run an adult races for months; I could always hang out at the back of the pack and walk/jog the 6K with my 5 year old. Really, though, I hoped that I would be able to run the distance myself.

On Monday, I realized that I was actually going to be able to run this race and was glad that my husband suggested that we go for I would have been upset if we missed it. And I'm grateful to my friend, D, who came over to the Island just to watch Skipper and Little Ironman.

How did I run? That's tomorrow's post. (Or you can follow me on FB since results are already posted there.)

Wacky Wednesday

2011-08-17T20:04:00.000-07:00

Now that I've started to run again and am trying to slowly build up my mileage, I'm paying more attention to my right leg than ever. For the past two weeks, I've been regularly glancing at my legs, looking for differences in their sizes or colour, and I've been palpitating the knee areas, making sure that they feel the same.

Yes, I've become paranoid about Gastroc's re-entry to the running scene, worried that something might (gasp) go wrong. To help monitor the little things that I can't see, I'm continuing with a weekly physiotherapy session and regular acupuncture; once I'm sure that I'm in the clear, I'll wean myself off.

On Monday, after Sunday's race, I saw Prem, my physiotherapist.
"Straighten your leg out," he said, "and flex your knee for me."
I did - three times - and he smiled.
"That looks good. You're starting to get your dimple back."

Dimple! I didn't even know my knees had dimples!

Fast Women and Good Times

2011-08-14T20:25:00.000-07:00

On my way home from the Acura 5K in Toronto, I realized two things about my racing buddies: (1) they are all faster than I am; (2) they are all younger than I am; (3) most of them are men. I can easily handle the fact that I am the oldest (turning 48 next month) and I don't mind being around men - even when they are sweaty and stinky. I do, though, have a problem being the slowest in the group.

Not today, though. After being off all summer and missing so many favorite races, I was thrilled to be at the start today. I had no goal as I really only had 2 runs to prep for this; chasing LI on his bike doesn't really count as training. I hoped to finish under 22:30 and felt this was pretty realistic.

Shawn, who was set to run the 10 mile event, picked me up this morning at 7:00 and we headed into Toronto. After parking, we met Dynamo Delilah who was sure to have a strong 10 mile race but, somewhere between the bag check and porta-potties, we lost sight of her. Shawn and I, then, went through pre-race rituals in our own ways and warmed up together.

The warm-up made me nervous, which surprised me as it usually settles me before a race. This time, I was a bit worried that Gastroc wouldn't appreciate a little extra pounding, even at a much slower pace. We ran for about 6 minutes, stretched and found our places in the yellow (not purple - yay!) corrals.

In front of me was a woman that I thought I recognized but I kept quiet. Instead, I stared at the back of her jogbra, held together in the middle by a safety pin. "Man, if that pops open" I thought. Eventually, I realized that I did know her; I spent 42 minutes chasing her down at the Oakville 10K last year, only to be passed by her in the last 50 metres. I hoped that she was running the 10 miler.

Yes, the 5K and 10 mile start was at the same time and I didn't like that at all. For this race especially, I wanted space around me - and a closer distance to the start. As it turned out, it did take me 8 seconds to cross the line after the gun sounded; that time could have been cut in half if the 5K runners started first.

During the first mile, there were several spots where footing was poor due to the potholes and cracks in the road surfaces. I remembered my physiotherapist's telling me to stay off trails and bumpy surfaces while I was building up again as they could be hard on my knee. Well, here, in the middle of a race, there wasn't much I could do to change it. I simply tried to keep my eyes on what lay ahead.

While heading out, I had a few words of encouragement from Richard, who spotted me from behind. Well, I think it was Richard; I had to use the teacher eyes on the back of my head to see them but they were blocked by my swinging ponytail. Richard is another racing buddy from town and I hoped that he and Shawn would find each other to push each other along.

Two kilometers into the race, I started to worry. I hadn't seen the lead runners turn around yet and I was starting to think that the course had changed. Perhaps there was a turn-off that I somehow missed. Then, I saw the lead bike approaching from a distance. Phew! On the way back in, a male runner passed me counting: 70, 71, 72.... It was Jimmy, a friend of Delilah's, who can run 5K in 18 minutes flat. He came to run the first 2.5K with DD and, then, took off to get to another race that he was running later in the morning. At the finish, he told me that he was counting the number of people he passed in the last half of the race.

By 4K, I suddenly remembered how hard racing 5K can be. I started to feel my stomach burning but, oddly enough, my breathing was normal. Nothing was hurting, but I didn't have the race legs that I needed to push any more. I finished as 16th female in 22:22 and came out on top with a first age group (and third master, which wasn't recognized).

Shawn finished the 10 mile race in 69 minutes, followed by Delilah in 70, and Richard in 75. Shawn left to meet his wife and son; I stayed to catch up with Delilah.

And that's when I saw another speedy gal that I hadn't seen in months: Arma, 32 weeks pregnant, who ran the 10 miler in 90 minutes. We laughed that she has gained 30 pounds but still pulled on her racing flats to save a few ounces. What a gal!

After talking with Arma, Delilah and I headed towards Union Station so that I could catch the Go-train home. That's when it hit me: I know some fast runners.

And, suddenly, I had the urge to brag that I spent the morning hanging out with some fast women. Do you think that sounds like the wrong thing to say in downtown Toronto? I don't.

Counting Down

2011-08-13T18:41:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow morning, I'll be running the Acura 5K in Toronto. This is one race that I'm not taking too seriously; after all, I've been off for 6 weeks. But I registered for it (months ago) so I'm going to use it as a baseline. I need an accurate gauge of where I am in my fitness right now; I need to set some goals for the rest of the fall and can't do that without really knowing.

Fortunately, I'm no longer in the purple corral with the 32+ minute runners; I'm in the yellow with the 22 minute runners. I'm hoping that I'll finish just under 22 minutes - doable, I think.

I'll know whether I'm right in 12 more hours.

Jumping Back In

2011-08-11T21:14:00.000-07:00

During the winter, The Canadian Running Series offered a significant discount for this weekend's 10 mile (or 5K) race in Toronto, bringing the price to $30. At $3/mile, that was a steal; the shirt alone made it worth registering. So I did.

But then, June came and my leg was sore. July arrived and I wasn't running at all. By the end of the month, I had given up on the 10 miler but still hoped that I might be ready to run the 5K. The CRS said that they would transfer my registration over if I wanted; all I needed was for Gastroc to cooperate.

And he did. On Monday evening, I emailed the CRS again and requested that my entry be switched. Done. But...there was one tiny little problem....

They listed my projected finish time as 32+ minutes for this corralled race. At first, I thought I misread what should be more like 22 minutes. I even enlarged the font on my computer. No; 32+ minutes it was.

Where did that come from? My projected 10 mile time was 73 minutes so they obviously didn't look at that. Then, I realized that female, 47, and asthmatic are listed on my entry. Yup, those three adjectives do not paint a favorable picture of me as a runner at all.

But the 32+ minutes does have me riled up just enough to look at Sunday morning as more than a casual 5K. I'm ready to show them (whoever "they" may be). I'm pumped to kick some ass.

But first, I have to switch my projected finish time to 21+ minutes - and hope that Gastroc is as ready as the rest of me is.

Thankful Thursday

2011-08-10T20:45:00.000-07:00

During the past week, I've realized how lucky that I am that I discovered running. Through it, I have learned to control my asthma rather than let it control me.

I wasn't born asthmatic. I didn't develop it until I was an adult - almost 30 - and that is what made it especially frustrating. I was strong and healthy, I was running well until one year when I had one case of bronchitis after another. After many trips to my doctor and testing, I was finally diagnosed with asthma.

I could handle it. Peter Maher, world class marathoner, was also asthmatic and he became my inspiration. But my asthma was triggered by cold and exercise. Needless to say, living in Canada and trying to be fit were not exactly great for my health.

Eventually, I couldn't follow Maher's example anymore and I had to give up running during the cold winter months. Instead, I cycled and worked out indoors; I hated the treadmill and stayed away from it. Each spring, though, I returned to the road carrying my puffer with me.

After delivering my second son, I decided that I had had enough of giving into asthma and grabbed it by its horns. I was determined to run year-round; if Peter Maher could do it, so could I.

And I did. For the past two years, I have been running in hot and cold weather. Yes, I am using my puffers beforehand but I am running and staying strong.

Tonight, while cycling indoors, I felt my lungs start to tighten and realized that I hadn't taken that precautionary step - a puff before getting on the bike. Even though I stopped to grab my inhaler, I didn't finish my workout as I just wasn't feeling well.

Then I realized how grateful I was to have learned to control my asthma. Yes, it took years, but I can once again do the things that I could do when my airways were clear. In fact, now, I can do some of them better.

Running - my desire to run - has helped me reclaim my health. Running has helped my friend control her diabetes. It has also helped other friends control their weight and cope with stresses of life.

Running - the best medicine there is. I'm thankful that I re-found it.

Wacky Wednesday

2011-08-09T22:11:00.000-07:00

Adam over at The Boring Runner is conducting a survey on opinions about being called a jogger versus a runner.

This reminded me of a long early morning winter run when I was out with the big boys. Shawn and Graham had underestimated the distance, which was fine for these Boston-bound lads but I was hurting. Playing the tough guy, though, I sucked it up and kept up with them.

"Are you sure you don't want to turn around here? We can catch up with you," Graham asked.

"I'm good."

When they asked again, I replied, "Yeah, sure, leave the gal on her own. I can see the headline in The Beaver: Female Jogger Found Dead in Ditch. And that will only piss me off because they called me a jogger."

So, yes, Adam. It makes a difference to me.

What's your opinion? Go over to Adam's blog and include your vote.

Look at Me! I'm Cool!

2011-08-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, a friend of mine from high school invited me to stay with her during our 30th high school class reunion. It took 30 years but finally felt that I was one of the cool kids.

And last week, Leah over at Chasing Atalanta tagged me with the questions and answers so it looks like I'm still cool.

So go ahead; ask away. What have you been wanting to know about me? And, if you're linking to this from Facebook, you can ask away there too and I'll include you in the answers.

Just When I Thought I Was in Shape

2011-08-07T19:57:00.000-07:00

I need someone to tell me how I'm able to work 5 days a week, chauffeur two children (and sometimes their friends ) to and from school and to after school activities, manage the house and train for a marathon without feeling tired but am exhausted after going to my brother's wedding.

Well, I suppose there is more to it than that. My sons were part of the wedding party and I was MC. We looked after an out-of-town aunt and tried to assist my dad with my mom....The wedding was lovely but I needed to sleep in this morning.

This afternoon, I was humbled again when I went out for my first run in six weeks. Yes, on Thursday, I was cleared to run 5K - as long as I didn't feel any pain. So today, when I was not pressed for time and could focus on form and feel, I headed out.

I'm not sure why, but I chose to run mid-afternoon, when the humidex was at 38C (or 102F). Having not run at all this summer, that was clearly a poor decision. My pace was good but I needed a few breaks, resulting in an overall lower pace time than I would have liked. I felt more out of shape than I've ever been.

However, my run was pain-free and that is great news. The plan, now, is to run twice more this week and race 5K on Sunday. Of course, physio, acupuncture and cycling are still in the works. And, now that this wedding is over, I think I might just dip into the pool and try to get my swim back on before the end of summer. Will I do it? Hmmmm.

Wacky Wednesday

2011-08-03T20:21:00.000-07:00

For weeks, I've been wanting to get Little Ironman on just two wheels but, mentally, he just hasn't been ready. So daily, I took him out for a long bike ride, trying to get him feeling more comfortable. About two weeks ago, I knew the training wheels were ready to come off but I waited to develop his confidence just a little bit more. Finally, on Wednesday, we set him free. Beauty!

Of course, it would have been much easier for him if we hadn't pulled off his training wheels on one of the hottest days of the year. He rode (and I walked) a few kilometres in the hot, humid weather and it wasn't long before he decided to take off ahead of me. When he got to an intersection, he waited, crying out, "Oh man! Now I've got to pull the underwear out of my butt!"

A true cyclist.

Moving Forward

2011-08-02T20:39:00.000-07:00

Two months ago, I had planned to run a 30K race at the end of August. That is now completely out of the question, as is the 10 mile race that I had registered for back in the winter.

But I'm starting to feel positive that I will be running at the end of this week and have a couple of hopes, all much shorter (and realistic) distances:

1. Acura 5K (August 14th). This is the smaller race that starts with the 10 miler that I registered for. The race organizers are able to transfer my entry to the 5K so, if I'm running next week, I'll be at the starting line on the 14th. My only reason to run this is (1) I've already paid for it and (2) it will help me establish where I am after being off.

2. Sunset Shuffle 6k (August 18th). Held at Ward's Island, this is a favorite race for my family. Hubs is planning to run it so we'll be there anyway. If I'm not running, I can likely sell my entry (it will probably sell out this week) or I can tag along with Little Ironman, who is itching to do a long race with the adults.

3. Carrotfest 5K (August 20th). I missed the Ontario Masters 10K Championship race in July so I really want to run this as it is the Ontario Masters 5K Championship. It's still 2 1/2 weeks away which gives me plenty of time to mend and train a bit.

The tightness that I've been feeling in my knee is a result of it still being swollen. The only thing I can do is rest and, so, I am. Everyone, though, seems to think I'll be back on the road over the weekend. That is my greatest hope of all.

If At First You Don't Succeed...

2011-08-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I tried to run for the first time in 4 weeks and it was a complete fail. After a hundred metres into the run, I could already feel the pain in my right leg. I had to call it quits.

On Friday, I had some encouragement from Dr. Elliott and from what seemed to be a successful acupuncture session. The next day, I took LI out on his bike (with me walking) and found myself running after him for about 500 metres - no pain! So, today, I decided to try heading out again - alone so that if I had to stop, I wouldn't end up with a cranky 5 year old who felt ripped off by a "bad run".

However, as soon as LI saw my running skirt, his eyes lit up. "Please, Mommy, I want to ride my bike." He knows; those words get to me every time.

So the two of us headed out towards a trail as there was less traffic to worry about and less impact
on my leg. I planned to run his pace, which was hard to keep up with on Saturday. Today, though, I found myself passing him. Poor guy! I don't know who was more excited: LI because he was riding far and fast, or me because I was running.

Almost two miles later, I decided to stop while my knee still seemed fine. It wasn't hurting but it was tight under the patella. I'm not sure why; perhaps it has to do with getting the joints moving quickly again. It's on my list of questions for my next physio session.

And now, after an hour of cycling, my knee feels fine again. I can't help but be excited by this and start to think that some of my August wishes might become reality. One day at a time....

To The Batbike

2011-07-31T20:05:00.000-07:00

Last night, I went downstairs to ride and discovered this: Batman, Robin and Nightwing had commandeered my bike. Why exactly, I'm not sure, but they were pretty serious about staying on it for a while.

Little Ironman tried to negotiate with them but it was no use; apparently, the Superheros needed my bike because it was the fastest Bat-vehicle in the house.

Ha! My bike - the fastest vehicle in the house. Later, though, I realized that the Superheros were right; my bike was becoming a real machine. I've always spun for cross-training - and to keep my sanity on winter nights when it is too cold to get outside. Over the past month, since I haven't been running, my cycling has really improved, increasing from 4 or 5 times a week (13 to 15 miles each time) to 5 or 6 rides at 16 to 19 miles each; this week's goal is to ride at least 18 miles each time.

When school starts in September, I want to have time for both running (assuming that I'll be burning the soles of my shoes by then) and this same level of cycling. Now that Little Ironman is a big grade 1er and is moving to his big brother's school, I only have one drop off in the morning, which means I have an extra 45 minutes for me! Now 6:00 a.m. means that I can cycle and stretch before getting the little darlings and me out of the house for school and work.

My August goal, then, is to transition from my night riding to early mornings. Then, when I start running again, I have the evenings for that.

Now if Batman could work with Wayne Enterprises to develop some microbodies for my knee, I'd be all set. And, then, I'll be able to show him my other machine.

And The Verdict Is...

2011-07-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

It was two weeks ago that Katherine and I went to One Health Clubs to try a yoga class and ask them to divide my 6 month membership certificate, which I won at a local race, into 2 - 3 month memberships. To us, it seemed to be a great idea as we could both use the club and motivate each other to get there (let's face it: flexibility is not my forte so going with a friend is important), which would give the club two potential "revenue" memberships at the end of September.

Wrong. We were faced with opposition - so much opposition that it took a week to hear back from them. I tried to contact them several times but was told that the manager wasn't there or that the manager was busy.
Then, there was the call when I was "deared".

I hate being "deared" as it makes me feel like the lesser person. I was even more irritated by the fact that I was being "deared" by a woman, a sales rep. who told me that the membership certificate likely wouldn't be divided in two as it would be considered "as valuable a prize".

"I beg to differ," I told her. "We both absolutely see the value in this and, to us, it has the same value whether it is over 6 months or over 3 months for two people. In fact, we value it more as a package for two or I wouldn't be going through the effort to try to have it split up this way."

I was "deared" again, which made me so angry that I can't really remember what I said to her, but I do remember that I wasn't all that pleasant about it.

I e-mailed Katherine and told her that I was going to give her the certificate for the whole 6 months. I had decided from the onset that, if they weren't going to split it for us, that she should have it as I have lots of ways to stay active and don't always have the time to get to a fitness class. She would get more out of it and I'm all about getting "value".

And minutes later, the phone rang. It was my "friend" whom we initially met with at the club.

"I have some good news for you. We've decided to let you split the membership into two packages."

I thanked him for calling and told him that I had decided to give the whole 6 months to Katherine. Then, I proceeded to tell him how I felt offended by the lack of customer service that they had given us. "If that is the way you are treating potential members, I can't imagine how you would treat us once we're in the door." Then, I politely said good-bye.

Since then, Katherine has initiated her membership and is putting me to shame in the yoga department. But if I can get my swim on, I have some hope of being able to keep up with her in the pool.

Yes, I'm starting to think it's time to tri....

Dr. Pins

2011-07-29T19:48:00.000-07:00

Last week, I knew almost nothing about acupuncture. I read a bit about it at Chasing Atalanta when Leah went through her plantar woes during the winter and I knew that it was an old-school science that involved pins, but that was about the extent of my knowledge.
However, something made me think that it might be something to pursue on my road to recovery so on Tuesday, when Dr. Elliott suggested it, I decided to give it a try.

Between Tuesday and today, I realized that I know a lot of runners who have had acupuncture and all of them had only positive things to say about it. That relieved me quite a bit because I hate needles. I really had no idea how it would help or what to expect, other than the needles in my leg would allow more oxygen to travel through my blood.

When I got to the clinic, Marcia, the physiotherapist assessed me first, focusing on the strength and balance of my legs. Everything scored well except for my hamstrings, where there is a huge discrepancy between the strength of my right and left legs. This, she told me, is probably what caused the problem in my right knee; the weak hamstring meant that my right knee was supporting my leg more than it should, which led to the problems that I'm now having with my knee. This made perfect sense to me as it was initially my hamstrings/gastrocnemius that were tight and, suddenly, I ended up with this annoying knee pain.

Acupuncture today, then, focused on my hamstrings - not the knee area. I was quite glad of this for I didn't want to see the pins in my leg. Instead, I was able to lie on my front and catch a 15 minute nap. Yes, that means there wasn't any pain.

After Marcia took the needles out, she tested the leg strength in my right ham again and there was a huge difference. Initially, I couldn't resist her pressure at all; after acupuncture, she could practically stand on my leg and I could support her. This is good news because it means that the problem is probably motor-related and the nerves just aren't connecting properly; daily strengthening exercises should correct that quickly.

Next week, I'm going back for another session and I'll continue to see Prem so that he can treat the area where we think there is a tear. This weekend marks the beginning of Week 5 of no running in what was initially a 6 to 8 recovery period. Hopefully, that prognosis is correct and Gastroc is almost ready to hit the roads again.

Competitive Facebooking

2011-07-28T09:30:00.001-07:00

If you know me at all, you quickly learn that I don't back down - from challenges or from difficult situations. This blog has chronicled many times that I have taken the bull by the horns.

Yesterday, though, I faced a new challenge, one which I never imagined. It all started with Kelly, from Secrets of a Running Mom, who posted another one of her 5 year old's antics - something about being free as a bird.

Little Ironman is the same age as her daughter and equally hilarious. So, after he asked me the infamous toilet paper question, I couldn't help myself. As soon as I got home, I topped her daughter's "free as a bird" tale with mine. And while I was at soccer practice, Kelly left this challenge on my wall:

Alright Cynthia, I see your 5 yr old story & I raise you one. I was just given the opportunity to make the following deal with mine: "Ok mommy, if I fly THEN I can go where ever I want right?"

Ah, but now the cards were in my favour. Kelly's daughter had already gone to bed and I was about to tuck mine in. So I asked him, "Honey, if you were a little girl and could fly anywhere, where would you go?"

"Well, Mommy, a 5 year old girl can't fly anywhere. Only her mom and dad can. But I want to be invisible. Then, I can score all of the goals in soccer because nobody will see me and I can pee in the shower because you won't see me."

Before dawn rose, Kelly and I decided that our children shall never meet. However, we both realize that if they do, they will make an awesome pair of superheroes, LI with his invisible powers and his partner's ability to fly anywhere.

At breakfast this morning, I described these Superheros (nameless, of course) to LI as the parents of a new Super Family. Little Ironman imagines that the son will be superfast, so fast that he can move from one place to another without anyone seeing him move; he calls him 'Bolt'. His sister is equally talented and can do high jumps and amazing somersaults; she is "Gymini", as in gymnastics.

So, yes, Kelly, our two shall never meet - unless, of course, it's to help Disney or Pixar create a new movie. And, when they're not busy with them, they can save the world.

Wacky Wednesday

2011-07-27T20:07:00.000-07:00

Hooray! Today we got Little Ironman on his bike without his training wheels - and he didn't fall once.

While Skipper delivered his papers, LI and I went up and down the street many, many times so that he could practise starting and stopping. Suddenly, out of the blue and half a block away, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Mom, did toilet paper exist when you were little?"

I bit my tongue; five year olds don't understand sarcasm. "Yes," I called back.

"What about basketball nets? Did you have those when you were little too?"

Visions of Naismith's peach baskets popped into my head. Just how old does LI think my bones are? I caught up to him with my old, creaking bones and reminded him that it was me - the mom, not the dad or the brother - who taught him how to ride on two wheels. Then, I wondered how long it would take him to ask me about dinosaurs.

Pins and Needles

2011-07-26T19:50:00.000-07:00

Today was the day I've spent weeks waiting for: the day of my visit with Sports Medical Doctor Elliott. Last night, I wondered what he would say to me, what he would want me to do, what I should wear and, most importantly, what I should wear. I felt like I was going on a first date.

I've spent weeks being impatient; I want to run. I'm close to the "whatever it takes" point and still hopeful that I can salvage something for a fall marathon. I went in today hoping for a diagnosis and a timeline and came out empty-handed.

Everything seems to be pointing towards a meniscus tear, which is what I initially thought weeks ago. The good news is that he doesn't seem overly concerned about it as it seems to be healing. However, the only way that we can be sure that there is a tear is through an MRI; I'm now on the list for one, which will take weeks.

Meanwhile, I'm doing all of the right things: resting, cycling, icing, physiotherapy and no running. When I asked if there is anything else I can do, Dr. Elliott made two suggestions: an injection and acupuncture.

There are two types of injections, cortisone and duralane. From what I understand, cortisone is more of a painkiller - a mask - that will allow me to keep running with a tear; this worries me because the long-term damage could pull me off the roads before I'm ready to stop. Duralane is not a drug but a hyaluronic acid which acts as a lubricant for the joints and a shock absorber; it's used for arthritis patients and athletes. At this point, I'm not sold on it, but the fact that it isn't a drug and I only need one lifetime injection appeals to me - especially when I hate needles.

The other suggestion is to combine physiotherapy with some acupuncture to get more oxygen into the effected area. Again, I'm not a fan of needles but I have entertained the idea of acupuncture; I'm ready to try anything right now if I'm sure it won't cause further damage. My appointment is on Friday morning and I have to admit that I am a bit nervous.

Do I have a timeline of my recovery period? No. I'm now in week 4 of "no running" though so, if it is a 6 to 8 week layoff, I'm halfway there. And if I decide to go the Duralane route, then I might get there a little bit sooner.

Wacky Wednesday - Hot!

2011-07-20T18:21:00.000-07:00

One perk, I suppose, of being told not to run: I won't come back fried, baked, or popped.

Dear Gastroc

2011-07-19T20:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Gastroc,

I really do love you but, for the past month, you have been annoying me beyond belief. I know you're mad at me for everything that I put you through during the winter and spring, but enough is enough. I have told you many times that I am sorry; I wish you would listen.

What else must I do to make it up to you, dear Gastroc? I have smeared you with oozing blue gel, wrapped you in ice, covered you in a cold, wet cloth, dug my fingers deep into the folds of your skin and palpitated you. I have really, really tried to make sure that you don't have to do anything except sit back and enjoy the ride - even though I'm starting to find 6 weekly hours in one position a bit boring. Oh, Gastroc, please, can't we move on?

I understand that you were jealous, that you needed me to spend more time with you. Since realizing that, I have spoiled you with physiotherapy,wooed you with prescription drugs and, next week, I have an extra special trip to Burlington planned for us.

Couldn't you just accept my apology? There are so many wonderful things that we can plan for in the fall, but not if you keep going this way. The first of greats on my list is spending a hot and steamy night with you on Ward's Island. Think about how exciting that would be.

Come on, Gastroc, please, please... I'm ready for you. Hurry! Before it's too late!

Faster Than a Speeding Fire Truck

2011-07-18T19:58:00.000-07:00

Monday. Day One of Session Two: Grade 8 Math. The night before school starts is like the night before a race - sleepless. My mind was filled with a giant to-do list, anxieties over the unknown, and a general excitement. A hot summer night and LI's waking up just as it was time for me to finally crawl into bed didn't help at all.

Dave drove me to work this morning, something he hasn't done in weeks. We picked up a Teaching Assistant and, five minutes later, we heard the sirens.

"What a waste of a fire truck sighting" I thought to myself. "I wish the boys were here to see it." I thought of the many times that we make a point of running past firehalls, hoping that the trucks would be outside, and the number of times my boys wave at the firemen speeding by when we run along Upper Middle Road. We play with fire trucks and we've have gone to Fire Truck Shows.

Trying to make conversation, I told Dave and our 17 year old passenger about a recent sighting, when Little Ironman was really impressed that all cars pulled over to make room for the fire truck. "You know," I told the two of them, "firefighters are modern day Superheros." Silence, not even a chuckle.

When we made the last turn before school, my adrenalin soared. Five firetrucks - 3 in front and 2 on the road - were parked. I was almost giddy with excitement. "Ahhh! Look at them all! We might get sent home! Wouldn't that be great?" And without even looking at my husband to say good-bye, I jumped out, telling him that I'd call him if we needed to be picked up early.

S. and I headed towards the school to join other staff; everything seemed fine but we needed to wait for permission to enter. And, then, it hit me: there were five - no, now six - truckloads of firefighters in front of my school. Even though they were fully dressed in gear, my face lit up. I watched a few walk into the building, put my tongue back in my mouth, and quickly scanned the other trucks - to see if I recognized any of the firemen, of course. After all, I have had students whose parents are fire fighters.

Then vanity kicked in. "Maybe one of them will recognize me" I thought. "'Oh, look', they'll say to each other, 'there is that woman who is running all the time.' No, I'm not in my running gear. But, wait, one might recognize my ponytail - and my sunglasses. Oh, damn! I'm not wearing them."

Minutes later, the crew of men which walked into the school headed back towards their truck and reality hit. The school was safe and it was time to go to work, but not before telling my principal that that was the best start to a Monday ever.

Later in the afternoon, on our way to the grocery store, I told Little Ironman and Skipper about my exciting morning. And, on our way home, we found ourselves at an intersection, looking at a firetruck waiting to make a turn towards us. Little Ironman stretched his neck over the seat as far as he could and waved furiously, delighted when the firefighters waved back. It must be genetics.

All kidding aside, I have to say how impressed I was that Oakville's Fire Department had 6 trucks at an elementary school within minutes. Thank you, fire fighters.

Things I Like About Me

2011-07-17T20:13:00.000-07:00

C.Mom has this great post celebrating wonderful things about her. I thought I'd give it a try.

Three things I like about me:
1. I have balls - and not just the ones that I'm constantly juggling. I'm not afraid to take on challenges and my spring marathon is proof of that. The day before, my chiropractor asked me when I last ran one, expecting my answer to be a few years ago. When I told him 20, his comment was "Wow, that's motivating. Going back at it after being away for so long - that takes guts."

2. I like that my family supports me with my running goals but I put them above those goals. A run can wait; a 5 year old can't. Nor can homework, dinner, choir practice, piano or swimming lessons. I have to put my boys first, which is easy to do because I know that they'll let me run later. We help each other.

3. I like that I naturally inspire others to set goals of their own and work towards them. Honestly, I don't even know how I do this. I'm just me and I do what makes the most sense and seems best to me. But, time and time again, over the past year especially, I've been told that I'm inspirational. I like that. No, wait: I love that.

Now it's your turn. What are things that you like about you? And, when you finish, head over to C. Mom's blog and link them in for a chance to win a great necklace from Lift Your Sole. But hurry! Contest ends tomorrow!

Passing Goals

2011-07-16T20:25:00.000-07:00

For the first time in a long time, I met and surpassed my weekly mileage goals. The first was easy: run 0 miles.

Actually, that wasn't easy to do; it took every once of mental effort to force myself not to run. On Sunday, when I went for a walk, I did break down and tried to - just to test my knee, if nothing else. But the pain was immediate so I stopped. It was at that point when I realized that I must have been running through pain for weeks beforehand. Anyhow, I didn't run for the rest of the week and am proud of myself for sticking to my plan.

My second goal was to cycle 80 miles. Now, this may not sound like a lot but, being injured and not wanting to put the stress of climbing hills on my knee, I have spent all of my miles on my windtrainer: constant cycling in the basement with the boys nearby (sometimes within 10 feet). Eighty miles seemed doable as I've been riding for 40 to 55 minutes each time, and 5 days a week while strengthening the quad muscles around me knee; I figured it wouldn't take much effort to get in my goal distance. Well, with Wednesday night, I cycled 93 miles this past week. Next week, it should be easy to get beyond 100!

This week: Run Zero again. But now it's easier. I've done it once and I can do it again. And who knows? Perhaps I might be able to run a mile or two by the weekend. Crossing fingers.

Plica: The Possible Cause

2011-07-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

Well, two weeks of trying to be patient seems to be paying off. At physio today, I was told that the meniscus seems to be better and that I'm healing - so well, that I only need one therapy session next week. That's good news.

I'm keeping my appointment with the Sports Medicine Doctor, though, as I'm still not running. In my eyes, as long as I'm off, I'm injured. Perhaps all I do need at this point is time, but I'd rather explore everything - even if it means giving into orthotics and (gasp) surgery - so that I don't have to deal with this again.

Besides, my physio is still suggesting anti-inflammatories - and I finally popped two Advil tonight. Tomorrow, I'm hoping that I can get some prescribed at the walk-in clinic. And Prem used the plica word again tonight; it's still there and settling down, and I want it eliminated.

So what exactly is plica? It's basically tissue that lines the joints around our knees. We are born with it, and it disappears. However, it can redevelop if our knees are subjected to repeated movements like running; the extra plica, then, can become inflammed which, in turn, causes friction and pain.

How much of it do I have? I don't know but, for the past week, now that the swelling is down, Prem has been able to feel plica under the knee. Can it be corrected? Yes. How? Rest, anti-inflammatories and, if those don't work, surgery.

Am I worried? No. I feel like I'm finally getting to the solution. In Prem's mind, my right leg is shorter so it is working harder to keep up with the left - applying more force, twisting more, etc. - and this has caused the growth of plica. The first step is to reduce the inflammation; I'm working on that. I should also consider orthotics to help with the extra inch issue on my left side; I'm considering that but want another opinion. And finally, I need to try to get a better view of what is happening inside my leg; hopefully, Dr. Elliott will help with that.

Meanwhile, I'm celebrating the fact that I only have to go in for physio just once next week. That's the best indicator that there is an end in sight.

Good Karma

2011-07-14T20:50:00.000-07:00

Earlier in the week, my friend, Delilah, gave me a good kick in the backside and told me to see a Sports Medical Doctor. Well, that is easier said than done as I couldn't easily get a referral from my family doctor who is impossible to get an appointment with in the summer. What made this even more frustrating is I had the name of a good sports med guy as well as an orthopaedic surgeon but couldn't do anything with them.

In a moment of frustration, I decided to call their offices anyway. Problem #2: I had the name of the sports med guy - but his surname and city only. In fact, I wasn't even sure it the good doctor was a "he". I searched for him on Canada411 but Dr. Elliott came up as D R and Dr and, sure enough, none of them seemed to be the real Dr. Elliott.

Then, I decided to Google him: Dr. Elliott...Sports Medicine....Burlington, Ontario. He came up within a second: The Elliott Sports Medicine Clinic. Jackpot! Not only is this guy excellent (so I was told), but he has his own clinic. I called and the first question I asked was "Do you need a referral from a GP?"

Double jackpot!! I didn't need to see my family doctor first and the appointment is still covered under Health Care. I let out a sigh of relief and booked an appointment with one of his associates - as Dr. Elliott is very busy and it would be weeks before I could see him - for this coming Monday.

Yesterday was my last day of Summer School. I dropped off the two university students - both former students of mine- working as Teaching Assistants and was a bit envious that they were still going to be employed for the last two weeks of July. It didn't seem fair; I got them their jobs, made the commitment to drive them to and from school, and they are working longer. However, it is what it is and I was looking forward to spending time with my own boys.

This morning, though, I got a phone call from the Summer School Principal who wanted me to work for the rest of the month. I jumped at the opportunity and thought about Good Karma. But when I hung up the phone, I realized what I had done: I had to reschedule my appointment on Monday.

I called the clinic, thinking that I could easily get a different appointment one afternoon next week. No. One of the doctors is away and they are fully booked. I let out a long sigh and took the first available appointment - the last week of July.

But Good Karma visited me again as this appointment is with Dr. Elliott himself, not one of his associates. Suddenly, waiting an extra week wasn't an issue at all.

And while waiting, I'll continue to ice, cycle, stretch and be patient. Physio is a given. Every few days, things seem a bit better. Yesterday, for example, I leaned on my knee without feeling any pain while strapping LI into his carseat; I couldn't do that two weeks ago. Every little sign of progress gives me hope that I'll be able to run soon.

Shame on you for using the F--- Word

2011-07-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

Today was the last day of Summer School, which means it's time to down-dog!

I've been talking about trying Yoga or Pilates classes for the past year as I thought it would be a great way to strengthen my core, which would help support me through my running. And let's face it; I'm not at all flexible. Yes, I do stretch on my own but to get into a class where I could push myself with others would be good for me.

In May, almost a year later, when I won a 6 month membership to One Health Clubs, I was pretty excited as this - a free membership- was the driving force that I needed to get to a yoga class. With a "enroll by July 31, 2011" date, timing was also good; I had summer and the flexibility I needed to get to classes. And most importantly, I had my friend, Katherine, who had also been wanting to try yoga classes ready to go with me.

Last night, the two of us walked into One Health Clubs to inquire about membership and, hopefully, try a class. Our goal: split the 6 month membership into 2 -3 month memberships so that we could both take advantage of it. This seemed quite doable to us; after all, it would give the club the potential of two sales at the end of October rather than one sale a few months later.

Now it has been a long time since either of us had been in a health club. I taught classes in the fitness industry in the late 80's and spent hours working out between classes. I slowly got away from that but, years later, I joined a health club so that I could work out around other people rather than alone in my basement. Since babies, I haven't worked out in a gym; all of my training has been at home.

Katherine has also been away from the club environment since having babies. However, aside from walking her dog daily, this Supermom business woman hasn't had the time to escape her duties for fitness. Now that her kids are older, she is ready, keen and absolutely able.

Last night, we gave our pitch to Derek, the sales rep., who quickly replied that he can't split the membership into two. After a few questions from us, we were given the message that fitness is a lifestyle choice. In Derek's eyes, it seemed, I had made that choice, and I would be likely to purchase a membership in 6 months time. Katherine, on the other hand, did not seem to have the same commitment. He actually told us, "Research shows that unless someone has made fitness part of their lifestyle, they are going to walk away from it once it stops being free."

"Excuse me," Katherine exploded in a room of male body-builders, "but I'm finding this quite offensive. You're not willing to give a membership to the "fat woman' here, but you're willing to give it to the 'elite athlete' over there who really does not need it."

Now somewhat flustered, but not enough to turn red, Derek told us, "It's out of my hands. This would have to be approved by head office."

"You're not giving us a chance," I added. "My friend is wanting to make a lifestyle change. We have this membership, I'm here to support her and you're standing in the way. You are not letting her do that."

Apparently, though, giving chances doesn't sell memberships and make money (and, yes, those words were used too). But our case is different. My gift certificate means that I don't have to invest in fitness for six months. So does it really make a difference if those six months are shared between two people? You would think, in their eyes, it would be an easy "yes" as two middle-aged women could potentially buy into the club in three months time. And perhaps the "fat mom" will and the "elite athlete" will walk away. Lifestyle can determine choices but it doesn't dictate what they will be.

Although we must wait for approval from Head Office, we were able to try an Ashtanga Yoga class. And now, more that 24 hours later, we are still waiting to hear their reply.

Honestly, it is a good thing that I do have a free membership. Otherwise, I would have walked out of the club and gone to another to look at other facilities. When customer service for potential members is that poor, you can only wonder what it is like for those that have already paid their dues.

Too Much Information

2011-07-11T20:17:00.000-07:00

One of the wonderful things about the Internet is that it contains a wealth of information. However, for someone like me, who can be mildly obsessive about finding the right answer, the Internet is also a curse.

This weekend, I spent hours searching knee woes. On Friday, after seeing Prem, I left feeling hopeful - that there was improvement. Yesterday, I headed out for my walk, as planned, and (gasp) decided to try to run during it. I didn't even last for 200 metres. My leg immediately hurt and I stopped.

"So why", I wondered, "was I able to run just 10 days earlier - and run fairly quickly 10 days earlier - but not today. Is there more to this than I think? " When I got home, I started to research: meniscus tears.

Oh, the dreaded meniscus. Just hearing the word sets panic in me. Please, don't let it be that. I googled the meniscus and also learned about the ACL, the knee triad, the fibia, and the femur - but I always ended up back with the meniscus. And, the more I read, the more convinced I was that I have a torn meniscus. Of course, I handled it well (cough, cough).

At today's physio session, I told Prem that it still hurt to run and I was worried about having a tear. "The problem I'm having," I told him, "is I'm a data person (actually, a data geek) and there isn't any for this. Everything is subjective and emotions get in the way. How do I know that this isn't a meniscus tear without having to wait for an MRI?"

Prem did the "meniscus test", the one when your knee is bent in all direction: no pain. "It's not your meniscus or you would feel something when I did that." Relief. And, I remembered that he did that same test weeks ago and I didn't feel any discomfort then either. More relief.

Then he poked and prodded the way a therapist can and said that the cartilage joined to the meniscus is the cause of my woes and that there is some scar tissue underneath (he mentionned this weeks ago too but I put it out of my mind).

"Can this be corrected? How long is recovery? Could it be anything else? What else can I do?"
I can deal with an injury if I know how long it is going to go on for, but I don't have the mental strength to follow a "wait and see" approach. If surgery is in the cards for me, I need to know that, when it is going to happen and how long recovery is.

"With rest," Prem told me, "you'll be off running for 6 to 8 weeks." But he also suggested seeing an orthopaedic surgeon - just to make sure.

He also told me that there could also be excess plica - tissue which surrounds the joints, causing friction, pain and discomfort - and that might also be part of the problem. "Your doctor can prescribe anti-inflammatories to help reduce the swelling."

And after giving me some more exercises to keep strengthening the muscles around the knee, he sent me home, feeling much more relaxed than when I started.

There has been improvement; I saw that today. My flexibility is better, I can squat further and, tonight, I pivoted on the stairs without thinking twice (something that I most certainly would have done last week).

But I'm frustrated. I work with data and I run with data. I need a goal, an action plan and a time-frame. Most of all, though, I need patience - miles and miles of patience.

Staying Strong

2011-07-09T20:22:00.000-07:00

There are many times that I've gone for a run and my mind has played games with me, telling me to stop, that I'm tired, that I can't go on any more. I have to dig deep to find the strength to ignore it and keep going with the plan.

And now, off for a full week, my mind is playing those same games. This time, though, I'm being told that I can run. It doesn't help that my physiotherapist started yesterday's session with "Did you run yesterday?" And the fact that I don't hurt when I walk or run up or down the stairs isn't making it easy to stick with the plan either.

I have the full range of motion in my right leg now; as of yesterday, my ankle is able to touch my butt again - something I couldn't do for weeks. But Gastroc continues to be a bit of a pain; the left side of my knee occasionally aches just enough that I know that I'm not ready to hit the road yet.

The only way I'm going to get through this non-running is to do something different. So tomorrow is the day to add something new to my training: walking. Yes, tomorrow, I'm going to walk the 6K loop that I love to run. I've also promised to take the boys swimming, which will give me a chance to practise bilateral breathing again. I just hope they don't laugh at me.

I have one more week to stay strong; I can do it.

Playing It Tough

2011-07-08T20:14:00.001-07:00

As runners, one of our greatest fears is the I-list, which puts down for us - in black and white - why we cannot run. Even though I've had a few setbacks over the past 6 months, I hadn't actually been added to the list. No, my time off was self-imposed because I wasn't enjoy running; it was hurting and I needed the time away to heal so that I could later run pain-free.

After last Friday's race, I thought that it might be time to hang up my shoes again for a while so, when I went out for a run on Sunday, I played close attention to the feel of my run. Little Ironman hopped into the jogger and the two of us set out. The first two miles were tough, but I attributed this to the slight downhill and the fact that I was pushing 67 pounds. After I warmed up and headed towards the long uphill along the third mile, I thought that my leg was fine after all, and it continued to feel fine for the rest of my run.

But that night it didn't feel right; it was tight. So I made the big announcement the next day: I'm not running for at least two weeks - until it doesn't hurt anymore.

This was an especially tough decision. First, I was planning to run the Ontario Masters 10K Championships next week; now, I might just go to spectate or volunteer. This is the first week of summer holiday and I had been looking forward to hot-weather running during my time off work; I crossing my fingers these sunny days will last for more than a few weeks. And, finally, my marathon goal is now 14 weeks away, making it look more and more like a half-marathon goal.

At physio today, my therapist was shocked to hear that I still hadn't run. I've been tempted; after all, I'm not injured; I just have a strain. But that strain has greatly improved in the past week as Gastroc has regained his full range of movement and only the front of my knee is still tender.

Progress? Yes. But it's tough. If you want to win, you've got to play the game.

Race Report: Canada Day 5K, Burlington, Ontario

2011-07-07T14:26:00.001-07:00

At the start line of this smaller race, it became obvious that it was a truly competitive field. Former Olympian Tania Jones was there as were a number of runners from varsity teams in the area. A lot of teenagers were also running the 5K, and it was obvious before we even started to run that these kids knew what they were doing, except for how to double-check their laces at the start line. There, I thought about my goal again: try to finish as close to 21 minutes as possible.

I hoped that I'd be able to stick with my friend, Delilah. But, since my Spring Marathon, when I've been spending time trying to recover and make sure that my strained muscle doesn't become an injury, she has been spending more and more time on the track and getting faster and faster. Shawn and Richard were also there but both are in a completely different league of runners. If I could keep my eyes on them for the first 500 metres, I was doing alright.
And I was - for the first 2000 metres. I learned at the OTMH run a few weeks ago that it pays to be a bit slower because the men cut through the crowd for me and I simply had to follow them. Here, I did the same thing; I let Richard break through the start line and and I laughed as he told 2 or 3 teens to tie up their shoelaces. I stuck with Richard as long as I could - long enough to catch up to Delilah.

I was a bit relieved to catch her and we ran neck and neck for a while. I also pulled myself ahead of Margaret, who is my age and equal to my own abilities. I knew Delilah was close behind and it would only be a matter of time before she was beside me again; sure enough, she passed me within minutes. I stayed with her and prayed that Margaret wouldn't catch up to us. By the time we got to the 2K mark, I watched Delilah pull ahead and knew I had no chance of catching her.

For the remaining 3K, I focused on holding my pace, staying ahead of Margaret and, if I could, pass a few more girls on the course. Somehow, I managed to do both. I had eyes set on one more as we neared the finish line, pushed as hard as I could but just couldn't grab her. (Days later, when finish line pictures were posted by Mike Cheliak photography, I could see that my speed was strong as I did pass a few men in the last part and I did get nearer and nearer to her; this 15 year old was just not within my grasp.)

I finished in 21:03 and was disappointed. I was the slowest of my friends, Shawn finishing fastest, followed by Delilah and, then, Richard. It was becoming obvious that I needed to take a break from running and let my leg heal completely.

Still, the four of us went home with age group awards. We girls each placed first in our divisions and won watches and the men placed second, winning dinner for two at Paradiso.

With every race comes a message. This one gave me two. First, even with low mileage and a "strain", I'm still a good runner, but I'm a frustrated one too; I can't do what I should be able to. This leads to the second lesson: time off might be do me some good.

The Burlington race was just what I needed to think about where I've come from, where I'm headed, and what I need to do to get there.

Race Report: Roseland Chambers Canada Day 5K

2011-07-02T13:40:00.000-07:00

I tend to plan which races I want to do carefully, especially since so many of them are selling out weeks ahead of time. And, as I'm trying to keep a fall marathon within grasp, I have to make sure that I'm not losing too much long distance training time to the shorter races. VrPro's Canada Day 5K in Burlington is one of my favorite venues; it was always on my to-do list this summer and I made sure that it was in my training plans.

I had erased it, though, when I started back at physio. "There is no way I'll be able to run it" I thought. But, thanks to my miracle worker therapist who cleared me to run on Monday, I registered - only after making sure that I could run an easy 6K.

My only goal for this race was to finish without feeling like I hurt my leg. I couldn't even think about setting a time goal as my running for the past 3 weeks has been almost non-existant: 10 miles, 0 miles and 4 miles. I hoped that I could run around 21 minutes; realistic or not, I had no idea.

So this race, which weeks ago was to attempt to get closer to 20 minutes, had become a race for me to use as a standard for my summer training. More importantly, though, it was a race to run with friends. My running mate, Shawn, was going to be there, and his wife and son were doing the 1K; Delilah and her friend, Jimmy, were also running; Richard had also registered for this local event.

And, at some point during the week, I also realized how competitive this field was going to be. Former Olympian Tania Jones (who is also a Master runner; please, leave something for the little people to win) was running, as were a lot of runners from the Toronto Olympic Club and McMaster University. My Masters friends, Jacqueline and Margaret, who regularly pick up awards, were also among the runners. Sometime between Wednesday and Thursday, my competitive side kicked in and I wanted to push myself to hopefully win an award.

Once again, though, reality kicked in and I decided that I should take Little Ironman and Skipper with me as both desperately wanted to come. The runner within me battled the mother, and the latter won.They promised to be good, and they agreed to let me warm up without getting in the way. Fortunately, they know that I need that time to run and stretch to help the leg recovery if nothing else.

Within 10 minutes of arriving at the race, the boys disappeared when Delilah and I went to the washroom. They went to the guys' with Jimmy and, when we came out, they were nowhere in sight. We checked the registration area, walked back to the car, looked up and down the street and nowhere. "It's okay; they're with Jimmy," I told myself. Regardless, I had no idea where they were and I worried. We went back to the washrooms and there they were - all three of them. The men's, it seemed, had only one stall while the gals' had two. This is the only race ever when the girls' line moved faster than the boys'.

Closer to the start line, I left Skipper and Little Ironman in sight of Delilah's aunt, and Gastroc (my nickname for my right leg) and I headed out to run the first part of the course, stretch and run and stretch some more. During this time, I checked out the other runners carefully and it appeared to be a small but competitive field of runners. It was going to be a tough 5K.

Wacky Wednesday - Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

2011-06-29T19:53:00.000-07:00

I live in one of Toronto's suburbs, a town with a population of 172 000. Since I live and work in town, I often pass people I know when I run - or get honked at as they pass me. This means that I often do a vanity run, a run in which I run well, look good or do both.

Two weeks ago, I realized how important it is to try and impress others with my running. The OTHM 5K was swarmed with high school volunteers who were working to add hours to their community service commitment. Many of them I recognized from being at my school a few years ago.

After I finished the race, I was quickly handed a bottle of water and guided to the next volunteer:

Teenage Male Volunteer: Ah, can I have your chip?
Me: Ya, ya, just wait a second (as I was still catching my breath).

A few seconds later, I stopped shaking enough that I could let him remove the timing chip from my ankle.
TMV: Good time.
Me: Thanks.

Hours later, I wondered if TMV was Stew, one of our grade 8's last year who I knew was volunteering that morning. When I recalled our friendly interaction at the finish line, I was sure it was.

Then, I imagined some of the comments at our local high school the next day.
"Yay, Mrs. O'H. ran."
"Yay, she was pretty fast."
"Man, does Mrs. O'H. have hairy legs!"

At that point, I was glad that I took the time to shave the night before. Could you imagine what the next lines would be if I hadn't? I'd be torn to shreds.

Looks like shaving has definitely become a pre-race ritual for me.

Back Together: Our First Date

2011-06-27T20:23:00.001-07:00

Gastroc and I headed out tonight for the first time in 8 days - our third date since our spat just few weeks ago. I worried that he would start to act up and drive me crazy, but my physiotherapist assured me that things would go fine. "If he starts to bother you, make sure you tell him to 'chill' when you get home."

"But you need to pay attention to your knee," he told me. "Remember, the gastrocnemius holds the knee in place and it is also being stretched. When you get home, do your stretches and ice your knee. And keep strengthening your muscles around the knee by biking."

Suddenly, my easy 6K run which should only take 26 minutes became a two hour long workout. I did all of the above: run, cycle (the dreaded brick), stretch and ice - as well as direct oldest child back to unfinished homework and diffuse a battle between the boys in between. Since it is summer, I have some extra on my hands; if it means that I can run, doing the bike and stretching is time well spent.

Gastroc did behave the entire time. Yay! If I can have one more run like tonight's before Wednesday, I should be able to run the Canada Day 5K. Now I just have to get the front of my knee to step in line - literally - and I'll be all set.

Making Up

2011-06-25T20:10:00.000-07:00

"Oh," said Prem, my physiotherapist, on Tuesday. "That's your Gastrocnemius muscle."

"The what?" I asked. It sounded like he said something related more to digestion than mobility. Prem repeated it and I answered "Oh," trying to sound like I knew which muscle he was talking about.

But I didn't. I probably heard of it when studying the human muscles in grade 12 health classes, when we were compelled to memorize the location and spelling of what seemed like hundreds of different muscle groups. And I may have read about it in Runner's World or some other fitness magazine. But I had no idea what Prem was talking about on Tuesday; I wondered why he was talking about digestive muscles while palpitating my calf. Trying to seem intelligent, I said nothing and waited to get home to google it.

I love Google. Have you ever googled your own name? Just try it and see what comes up. Well, within a second of typing in gastrocnemius, 53 000 results came up and, by eliminating Wikipedia, I narrowed my search to 52 999. I habitually skipped the first few and found a link to Livestrong.com; Lance, legs - yup, that would be the site to check first. And it was as it clarified what my physiotherapist told me about the gastrocnemius.

Basically, it is part of the calf muscles and it works with the ankle joints to flex the foot, move from side to side, and rotate left and right. It also helps generate force when you run and absorb shock when you land on the ground.

So this muscle was likely compensated during the spring while my ankle was healing. Then, on my Sunday's run, when I jumped from the curb to the road on a downhill curve, my gastrocnemius threw a temper tantrum. "Enough is enough!" he cried (Gastrocnemius has to be male; just listen to how masculine it sounds. Now add a French accent - definitely male). "You've pushed me too far. I'm not going to let you do anything right now! Nothing! Not until you're nicer to me!"

And so I am listening to him now. He is being ultrasounded, lasered, iced, stretched, and rested. He is relaxing, feet up and completely carefree. I am being as nice to him as I can.

"Now, dear Gastroc, you need to be kind to me too. I need you to help me out. You see, I have these running goals that I want to achieve next month, and I can't without you."

Gastroc is listening. Most definitely, he is interested. Let's see what happens.

The I - List

2011-06-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

It happened. I thought I was being careful. I was being careful, and I felt great. But the post-marathon trauma finally set in and I'm on the i-list.

Last Sunday, while on an easy 10 mile run, while on a downhill curve, I landed on my right foot the wrong way; my knee hurt instantly and the next day, walking was a challenge. I still ran twice (short) during the week, cycled and raced a fairly strong 5K on Sunday. Everything seemed okay until Monday morning when I was dust-panning the kitchen floor. "Oww!" Okay, so everything wasn't fine after Sunday's race. The next day, on Tuesday, I was at physio.

Now, it's not a big deal. Well, that's what I'm telling myself. My physiotherapist is also confident that I'll be back on the road soon. But this is the first time that I've been told that I shouldn't run in a long time. "For how long?" was the first thing I asked.

"Two to three weeks, but let's take one week at a time."

I think that's encouraging as it does imply that I may be running in a week. And I want to be running in a week - for the Canada Day 5K race in Burlington.

And I can walk and ride, so I can keep my cardio up - in case I can race next Friday.

We're taking one week at a time.

Hanging Out with the Boys - Big and Little

2011-06-19T20:05:00.000-07:00

Over the past few months, I have felt behind in many, many parts of my life: house-cleaning, groceries, work and, today, running. And, today, I realized that being a little behind in running isn't all that bad.

This morning, Dave, the boys and I got up at the crack of dawn to head down to our town's hospital for a fundraiser - The OTMH 5K Classic. I toyed with running this; I wanted a good speed workout before Canada Day (July 1st), but I wasn't completely committed to it. But Dave wanted to run the 5K, Skipper was set to walk the 3K and Little Ironman wanted to run the 1K for kids. So, I tagged along and registered for the 5K.

Besides, I ran this last year and did well, finishing as the top Female Master. I did want to try to hang onto the title - if local events with only 500 runners even have titles.

The four of us got down at 7:50 for a 9:00 start and my stomach started to spin; the nerves set in and even chewing peppermint gum wasn't helping. (You did know that peppermint relieves upset stomachs, didn't you?) There was only one thing left to do: start warming up early.

At 8:05, I headed out for a slow 3K, found the boys and started to prep Little Ironman for the kids' run. He was ready, and so he should have been. Yesterday, we drove around the course so that he knew where to run and, this morning, we walked the course as soon as we got to the site. Like me, Little Ironman needs to be mentally ready for a race. Despite this, though, at 8:30 - five minutes before the start - he bailed on me. Within minutes, Skipper also bailed on the 3K walk. They decided to just sit tight and wait for me. Little Ironman found a friend of his and, fortunately, his father was happy to keep an eye on my own boys.

A year ago, this would have upset me; today, it didn't. It simply wasn't worth arguing about as Little Ironman simply wasn't ready to run, likely because there was a huge number of kids. Besides, I wanted a longer warm up so I took advantage of the extra time.

I had no idea where my husband was but I found my running mates: Shawn, Renaud and Graham. We ran a few kilometres and headed to the start where we found another buddy, Richard.

For the past year, at every race, I've stood at the start and tried to size up my competition. Today, I didn't. Instead, I was comparing myself to my male buddies. Renaud, we knew, would be fastest, followed by Shawn. Graham and Richard are comparable runners and my goal was to keep them in sight; I wanted to finish within a minute of those two. Yes, I was bound to be the slowest - even with Richard and Renaud both racing yesterday.

So when the gun went off, I stayed behind them - closely behind. And since they broke through the crowd ahead of me, I didn't have to elbow my way past anyone. I caught sight of three women, hoped to catch at least one of them, and I wondered who was up at the front. At that point, I decided that I should have paid more attention to who was at the starting line.

After going out conservatively so that I wouldn't bust my quads on the first downhill kilometer, I picked up the pace on the steep incline at 2K and fought to catch Gal #3 over the next 2 kilometres, which were a gradual incline. With 500 metres to go, I was within arm-reach of her, but she pulled slightly ahead, finishing two seconds faster in third place. I crossed the line in 21:31 as fourth gal and top Master. Skipper found me immediately grinning from ear to ear.

Richard and Graham did stay in my sight for most of the race but "staying in my sight" really means "catching a glimpse of Graham's bright blue and Richard's red shirts as they turned corners.

But I almost caught Gal #3, though, and this made me happy as, I discovered later, I've been trying to catch her in standings for years. And even though my time was a bit slower than I wanted, I had expected that as the course is a deceptively tough one and, for the past week, I've been nursing a tender hamstring so I didn't want to push. With this, I still finished a minute faster than I did on the same course last year.

Hubby? After I finished, I ran back out to run him in but couldn't find him. I started to worry that he had DNF'd and that bailing on this race had become a male family thing. But he didn't. Dave was faster than I thought and finished in 28:02. Being his first race since last June, this time is great.

Does finishing behind me bother him? Not at all. During the awards, Dave found his way to the front and grinned as much as Skipper did when he saw me finish. Tonight, as I write this, I feel so lucky that I have such great men in my life - my running buddies who pull me along and encourage me; my sons, who love cheering me on; and, my husband, who is my greatest support of them all.

Wellness - Says Who?

2011-06-13T19:54:00.000-07:00

I don't believe in wellness; I believe in lifestyle. To me, wellness implies that you are making a sudden change to be healthy and active; lifestyle means that it is engrained.

On Friday, one of my co-workers arranged for a "Wellness" lunch; a reflexologist, chiropodist, chiropractor and massage therapist from a local wellness centre offerred us 15 minutes sessions at no cost. Initially, I turned my back to it but, after thinking about how disappointed my right ham would be if it didn't get a little bit of TLC, I signed up for my 15 minutes of attention.

By the end of the session, I also decided to visit the chiropractor, who had a table set up next to the masseuse, as he seemed interested in the problems that I have been having with my right leg. Without spending too much time looking at it, he declared, "You have one leg that is longer than another!"

"Isn't that common in everyone?" I thought, but I let him continue. And then I teased him. "So what do I need to do to correct this?" I asked.

He sent me to the next station: the chiropodist. That's when I knew what was going on; they want to sell orthotics.

Again, without spending more than 30 seconds looking at my feet and legs, the chiropodist worked to instill fear into my running heart. "I can tell, just by looking at the way you're standing, that your arches are starting to fall." Well, just weeks ago, my physiotherapist looked at my arches and gave them a good report. My chiropractor also recently said that my arches were in great shape. Everyone's arches, he told me start to drop as we age; women, who wear heels, tend to have arches that fall early because the heels have stretched them out of shape. Not owning a pair, I should be clear for a few more years, at least.

My guard was up and she continued. "We can put you in an orthotic to correct that."

"I don't want orthotics. I've been told I don't need them."

And she got into the spiel about spending time and energy on staying healthy and seeing a chiropractor but not going to the extra step to stay healthy and wear an orthotic. "Why don't you like them?"

"They're heavy and they're clunky. I don't want the weight in my shoes." Really, I don't want orthotics in my shoes.

"We can put in something lightweight - like kevlar."

"Perfect," I thought, "that will look great in my shoe line-up in the laundry room. Wait! Do you have titanium? Titanium orthotics would be really sweet."

Instead, I volunteered the value of barefoot running and minimalist shoes (not that I am but I was in the mood to counter her argument), how I know runners, including my husband, who use to wear orthotics and got rid of them in favour of a more natural approach to footwear. Of course, she criticized this and I bit my tongue - so hard that I almost needed stitches. When she was done, I thanked her and took her business card.

This exchange emphasizes how important second and third opinions are. The chiropodist was convincing and, had I not already been told that my feet and leg structure are fine, it would have been easy to believe her and sign away for two pieces of clay to stick in my shoes. But I knew better - not because of wellness, but because of lifestyle.

Thankful Thursday: My Virtual Friends

2011-06-09T11:24:00.000-07:00

Spring is my busiest time of year. While trying to fulfill my responsibilities at work, juggle the tasks of parenting and staying fit, my blogging has dropped significantly. I'm finding time to write a bit but it has been near impossible to read and comment on the blogs of my virtual friends.

Yet, my online friends, my virtual running community - through this blog, Facebook and Daily Mile - are continuing to read my work and be a strong support group for me. For that, I am truly thankful.

Fortunately, the school year is coming to an end (15 more school days!), which means that it won't be long before I'll be able to spend time visiting my friends again:) I can't wait to have that time back on my hands.

Wacky Wednesday: More on Boobs

2011-06-08T06:38:00.000-07:00

Like my little grade 5 friend who wondered how this runner's boobless body managed to feed two children, Little Ironman had his own set of questions.

That same week, after getting back from a run, I decided to bathe him while I was still in my quick-dry running gear: skirt and jogbra. LI looked at my jogbra or chest (not sure which) and asked, "Mommy, why do girls have those again?"

Not wanting to give my five year old too much information, I simply replied, "Mommies need them to help feed our babies."

"Oh. But...you already have two kids."

"Yeeeees?"

"So, you don't need them anymore. You should sell them."

If I planned on using that extra cash for groceries, my boys would truly starve.

Race Report: Bread and Honey 5K

2011-06-07T11:20:00.000-07:00

When bread and honey are used together, many images come to mind: breakfast, bees, 60's music and Moses.

Whenever I hear the number 1492, I can't help but think of Columbus. That was the first historical year that I memorized so it has to be an important number.

So when I found that I had Bib Number 1492 for the Bread and Honey 5K, it almost seemed that something great was about to happen. And, I just ran a marathon a few weeks ago so I knew that I was in good shape to run.

And, yes, I had that bug - that twitchy little critter that picks away at my nerves and drives me to push myself. So I did what any responsible runner would do; I registered for the 5K instead of the 15k. This way I could race and aim to be great without putting myself on the i-list.

With typical pre-race fears of sleeping through the alarm, I tossed and turned through the night, dragged myself into the shower at 5:30 and waited for Shawn and his brother, Dan, who were a bit late picking me up. In the same way that leaving for work 10 minutes late results in a lot more traffic, leaving for a race late means a much longer line at the porta-potties and that is exactly what I faced: a 20 minute wait. This, of course, meant that I couldn't warm up as long as I wanted and needed to, but that was okay; I was wearing Bib 1492 and I was going to have a great race.

But, in the three weeks since Toronto, I had forgotten how to race. I forgot to stand closer to the start so I ended up spending the first 500 metres trying to get around people. I had forgotten that the course was a hilly one, and I set a time goal based on a flatter, faster course. And I completely forgot that it does take time to recover from running a marathon. Okay, I can cut myself some slack there as it has been a while since running that distance.

However, I did remember how to pace and I ran faster, 30 seconds faster than last year, I finished 7th female (of 433) and I took home a plaque for finishing as first female over 40.

On Sunday night, I received a few e-mails which congratulated me on "a great race." But it wasn't a great race. Despite the bread and honey and Bib 1492, it was - for me - an average performance. It was a reality check, reminding me that I need to put in the time and do speedwork to achieve my goals.

And, in the same way that I spent months targetting for The Goodlife Marathon, I need to focus towards a specific 5k to break my barrier. I just don't know where that is going to be.

Race Results: Bread and Honey 5K

2011-06-05T20:38:00.000-07:00

And here it is! For the second race in a row, I'm going to tell you how I finished before I write my race report.

Bread and Honey 5K Time: 21:13 (21:07 chip time)

Place: 8th female (of 433), 1st Master

Note to self: Don't try to PR on a hilly course, on the first warm weather race of the year, or 3 weeks after a marathon. It just isn't going to happen.

Details to come.

Jitter bugs

2011-06-04T20:16:00.000-07:00

I'm not typically nervous before a race - anxious, yes, but not jittery. For whatever reason, I am a bundle of nerves over tomorrow's 5K, The Bread and Honey Race.

Perhaps it is because this is the first race that I'm running since the marathon. Maybe it's because I have a time goal - 3 seconds faster than my last 5K - that I really want to meet. Or, perhaps it's just simply one more thing on my plate during an already hectic week.

Shawn dropped off my race kit last night and the first thing I looked for was my bib: 1492, the year Columbus sailed. I remembered last year's race in the pouring rain; I was so wet that my drenched running skirt started to slip below hips, leaving me grabbing it for the last kilometre of the run. Nice.

The Weather Network, though, continues to insist (yes, I checked more than once or twice) that it will be dry and sunny at 8:00 a.m. That wasn't the case earlier today. Little Ironman and I planned to go to the park to practise riding on two wheels but that all changed at 10:30 when the skies opened and thunder roared through them. I again thought about Columbus sailing across the ocean again and wondered if I was being given a sign of what to expect tomorrow.

My clothes are ready, my bag is packed and I'm heading off to bed. All I need is a bit of lightning fast speed - without the actual lightning.

Wacky Wednesday: Puberty Classes

2011-06-01T06:47:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year: puberty classes for Grade 5. You remember those days, don't you, when your mind is filled with questions that you are too afraid to ask? To make things easier for our students, boys are separated from the girls and they have male and female teachers, respectively.

Last week, the girls were talking about breast development when 10 year old Kathy piped up.

Kathy: Um, I don't want to sound rude or anything, but some women, like Mrs. O'H., for example.... Well, how did she feed her kids?

This naturally led to a discussion on athletic females and body fat.

Two weeks ago, I was impressing hormonal pre-teens with my 5-inch medal. Last week, I'm modelling how sports impacts our body. I can only imagine what might be next.

Self-Reflection

2011-05-31T20:41:00.000-07:00

Over the past week, in case you hadn't noticed, I took a break from blogging. It wasn't a planned break; it just happened. Family commitments were huge and work was exceptionally busy. I made time to run and workout - barely - but I couldn't find time to read and write. My thoughts were consumed with running, though, and that resulted in a lot of self-reflection.

I am happy with how I ran in Toronto. My goal was to finish - to get that monkey off my back - and I ended up qualifying for Boston (although I may not go). My recovery was fairly easy and, to me, that indicates that I trained properly and was race-ready.

Looking forward, I have new goals, new aspirations to achieve:
1. Run a sub-20 5K. My PB is 20:53 and track starts in two weeks. Doable.
2. Run a fall marathon faster than the last. I'm not sure where this will be - possibly Toronto.
3. Run a "big" event in the next year. This likely means a trip State-side.
4. Teach Little Ironman to ride on two wheels. He is ready and I really want him to be able to ride 6K with me by the end of the summer.

Now that I feel that I've recovered from Toronto, work is not quite as busy as it was in the past two weeks and the boys' activities are winding down, I'm ready to put in the energy that I need to take me there.

Here we go.....

The Goodlife Marathon: Race Report, the Finish Line

2011-05-23T19:17:00.000-07:00

When I was talking today with a neighbour about the marathon, her jaw dropped when I told her that I registered for it just two weeks before.

"After getting hurt," I told her, "I wanted to make sure I was strong enough to run. I almost walked away but decided that I had to run this marathon. I just wanted to get the distance in; I always have the fall to try to improve my time."

At the 6K mark, where I was already wet and cold, I revamped my goal: have fun. I decided to thank the volunteers, show appreciation for the spectators (and there weren't a lot, due to the weather, so they really needed to be appreciated) and smile for the camera guys.

During the second half-marathon, along the Lakeshore, where it was much colder and windier, I kept reminding myself that it was all about having fun. At about the 23K mark, I pulled over to the edge and pulled out my iPod, sensing that I was probably going to need a distraction soon. "Start listening early," I told myself. "If you get into the music, you may not notice the rain."

Well, I did notice the rain, and the wind, and every kilometre mark from there to the finish but the tunes did help keep me going. I hit 30K at 2:31 - still on pace - when The Boomtown Rats started I Don't Like Mondays, my favorite song from high school. My pace picked up significantly and I heard Garmin Graham pulling me back to my 5 minute kilometre, and he held me there for the next 12K. At 32K, Dr. Randy told me the race was just starting and, at 33K, my arms were starting to feel numb; the cold was starting to get to me.

When I next stopped for Gatorade, my forearms and fingers were tingling. "Keep running," I said, "so that you'll generate more heat." By the time I got to University Avenue, 4K from the finish, I couldn't feel my forearms; I could barely hold onto a water cup.

To make things worse, the last 4K were uphill - not greatly so, but uphill enough to be intimidating. Then, at 40K, it happened: I stopped and walked - not while drinking to make sure that Gatorade went into me instead of on me - but walked for the sake of walking. But my tunes continued to play, I was urged on by a stranger and I caught a glimpse of Queen's Park - the sign that the end was near. To Garmin Graham's dismay, I picked up my pace and propelled myself towards the finish line.

With less than a kilometre to go, I started to look for my husband, Skipper and Delilah. Dave (Yes, you finally know his name. There have to be some perks for reading this long report.) jumped onto the road and started to run with me.

"I'm good! I'm good!" I yelled at him until I realized that that people all around us had no idea why I was yelling and thought I was crazed.
"Are you sure?"
"Where's Skipper?"
"He's fine."
"Good. I'm okay. Leave me alone. I can do this on my own!" And he did.

About two minutes later, I crossed the finish line, finishing in 3:35:40, almost 25 minutes better than my BQ time and I was handed the world's biggest medal (well, not really, but it does have a five inch diameter), which was just too darn heavy for my tired arms to hold. Skipper, who came out of nowhere, was quite happy to relieve me of it.

We found Dave and Delilah, and the three of them turned off my iPod (my fingers were too numb to do even that) and helped me change out of my wet clothes. And, without wasting any time, we headed back to Oakville to pick up Little Ironman, who still isn't really sure what all of the fuss was about. One day, he will know.

Goodlife Marathon: Race Report, Part 3

2011-05-22T19:55:00.000-07:00

Once on Yonge Street, I put Skipper and Daddy out of my mind, believing that they had found each other. Instead, my mind filled with voices that would guide me through the next 41.2 kilometres.

Shawn and Graham, my running mates who helped me immensely with my pacing on our long runs, were always in my head. "You're picking it up again, Cynthia," Garmin Graham would tell me when I was in training and, whenever I noticed my feet start to pull me forward in Toronto, I heard Graham pull me back.

Dr. Randy's voice also echoed in my mind. "The race begins at 32K," he told me. I had to start slowly.

Shawn and I often talked about my pacing for the marathon during our last few runs before it. "Go out easy," he said. "Aim for a 1:50 half. Look for the 3:50 pace bunny and stay a bit ahead of it. 1:50's good."

I did look for the 3:50 pace bunny at the start but I didn't see one. There was a 3:30 and a 4:00 bunny, but no 3:50 - not even a 3:45. I let out a deep sigh and tried to place myself properly at the start line. By the first kilometre, I knew I had done just that; I was running around a 5 minute kilometre (or 8 minute mile) pace - exactly what I wanted.

By the time I reached the 6K mark, I knew it was going to be a tough few hours. I was already cold and wished that I had worn my arm sleeves. We climbed the hill at Hoggs Hollow, where we were cheered on my spectators and volunteers, and handed bottles of water by store owners. At that point, I decided that I was going to have fun with this race; there was no point in taking it seriously because conditions were rotten.

And fun I had. I expected that the boys at Upper Canada College would be manning an aid station but they were nowhere in sight. So I made sure that I thanked the bubbly and enthusiastic girls next door, at Bishop Strachan School, who were handing out water, gatorade and oranges. And I hammed it up for the photographer at Casa Loma - something I never, ever do.

By 12K, I started to regret not wearing more on my arms and I started to strategize. "When I see Daddy and Skipper at 15K," I thought, "I'll ask them to find them in my backpack and meet me at 18K with them.

But that plan feel through when I didn't see them. I was certain that I hadn't missed them; the rainy weather made sure that there weren't lots of spectators out that morning. I continued on but didn't see them anywhere. "They're just cold and hungry. It's better that they're at my parents' so that they can stay warm." Not once did I think that they weren't together.

In the last kilometres before Lakeshore, I waited - yes, waited! - for a portapotty. Since I had been drinking Gatorade at each station, I wanted to make sure that my bladder was completely empty before getting into the cold and wind so that I wouldn't be facing GI woes too. Besides, I had a bit of time to kill as I was about 2 minutes ahead of where I wanted to be. But the wait took forever and, by the time I got back on the road, I was 2 minutes behind my goal pace.

Shawn's pacing advice went through my head again: aim for a 1:50 half. I was on track for that so I stayed calm and carried on. And, if my legs tried to catch up to some of the runners who left me at the porta-potties, the voice of Garmin Graham tightened the leash.

On I went at my 5 minute pace, aiming to just have fun. But, once we got to Lakeshore, fun took on a whole new meaning....

Goodlife Marathon Race Report: Part 2

2011-05-21T14:32:00.000-07:00

By the time I got to the starting line of the Toronto Marathon, I had already gone through the toughest part of the marathon: the training. Logging the miles, as anyone who has run a marathon knows, is not easy. For months, I had to carefully plan when and how to run around my family and my job. During the last six weeks of my training, I wasn't even sure if I was ready to run the distance due to my ankle woes, but I finally found the courage to register just two weeks before - on the same week of two long runs.

On Saturday, when I saw my chiropractor, I felt quite relaxed about what I was heading into, even with the bruising from that football that landed on my calf the day before. When Dr. Randy asked me when I ran my last marathon, I replied, "Twenty years."
"How long?" he asked again.
"Twenty years. It was Detroit. Twenty years ago."
"Wow, that's really impressive. To take twenty years off and go back says a lot."
"Honestly, Randy, a few weeks ago, I didn't think I'd make it this far. But I'm ready. My last long run was 20 miles two weeks ago, and I ran 18 miles 5 days before that. If I can log that kind of distance over 5 days, I'm ready."
"Remember what they say," Randy reminded me. "The race starts at 32K."

I thought about that conversation all day and, still, a week later, I haven't quite figured out what he meant. But Randy is a four-time Ironman so I was somewhat proud of being able to impress him.

When Shawn called me at night, I told him that I was feeling pretty relaxed about the whole thing. "The hardest part," I told him, "is going to be getting the boys up and out of the house in the morning."

But even the morning went fairly smoothly. At 7:00, Little Ironman and I walked to a neighbour's where he would spend the morning, then go to a birthday party and, then, visit Superfriend Katherine until we got back. Skipper's wake-up call was easy because he was excited about heading into Toronto. Daddy, who finished his week of nights at 2:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, managed to find the bathroom and make himself breakfast without too many expletives when he say the wet, grey skies. By 7:15, we were heading into the city.

About an hour and a half later, Daddy, Skipper and I walked from the lobby of the warm Novotel Hotel (with clean bathrooms) to the start line. Skipper and I walked ahead, and, ten minutes before the start, I was still trying to figure out what to wear. Humidity was in the air and, without a doubt, we were sure to get dumped on at one point. But it was also cool - a brisk 9C. While that is a near-perfect running temperature, the rain and winds along the lakeshore were sure to make it feel much cooler.

I had my iPod ready but put it back in my pocket. I figured that the first half-marathon would be easy to run so I decided to wait until I got to halfway mark on Lakeshore Blvd., where it would be miserable and I'd want the distraction, before I'd use it.

Three minutes to start: Skipper and I were next to the corrals and Daddy was nowhere in sight. "Great," I thought. "Just what I need - to worry about leaving my ten year old on his own in Toronto." But Skipper is street-smart and I knew Daddy would find him once the runners had left. Still, I was worried.

Two minutes to start: I pulled off my shirts, handed my long-sleeved to Skipper and put my short-sleeved back on. "I'll be fine," I told myself. "I'll be more comfortable with wet arms than wet sleeves." I said good-bye to Skipper and climbed into the corrals. "I"ll find Daddy after everyone is gone," he said.

The gun went off and, as we crossed the starting line, I anxiously combed the spectators for Daddy. He was nowhere in sight. "They'll find each other," I thought. "Then, they can cheer for me on Rosedale Valley and visit my parents for breakfast." But as I turned the corner to run down Yonge Street, I continued to worry.

Wacky Wednesday - Impressing the Boys

2011-05-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

Students in the Intermediate Division can be difficult to impress, to say the least. When I first started working in the grade 7-8 hallway, the girls were horrified to see me return from a run in my shorts, which is quite ironic when they wear casual shorts that are both shorter and tighter than my running shorts. Now, heads turn when I head out in my Running Skirts gear - either because they are impressed by my savvy fashion sense or can't believe that I actually run in a skirt. The boys talk to me about my running and try to flatter me with offers to keep me company - to "help me out", of course; on Monday mornings, I can usually top their athletic bragging rights when I tell them that I ran 18 miles on the weekend.

This Monday morning, I took my medal from the Goodlife Marathon to school. I don't typically bring in my hardware but I had so much support from my co-workers that I wanted them to see the huge reward - the medal with a 5 inch diameter. It is so heavy that I could barely hold onto it after running the marathon; Skipper was quite happy to carry it for me.

At the end of lunch, I discretely carried the medal while walking through the grade 7-8 hallway and a few boys yelled out, 'Whoa! Look at that medal! It's huge!" Suddenly, I was surrounded by a group of teenagers who wanted to see it.

Last night, I took the medal with me to Skipper's Boy Choir rehearsal to show one of the parents.

Me: I can impress any grade 7-8 boy.
Mom: Oh, can you now? How?
Me: Watch. Hey, Jake! Come here for a minute. Want to see my medal?

And I pulled it out. Jake, a music guy, looked at it and a huge smile covered his face. "WOW!"

Me: See. He's smiling. And I did this at school too - all day long.

All you have to do to impress the boys is walk down a hormonal-filled hallway while carrying a medal with a 5 inch diameter.

The Goodlife Marathon: Race Report, Part 1

2011-05-17T19:59:00.000-07:00

I did something on Sunday that I've never done before; I posted my time from a run before I wrote much about the run itself. That alone symbolizes the excitement that I felt after finishing the Goodlife Marathon. I couldn't wait to tell the world.

People who know me well often say that I bite off more than I can chew. I work hard, I'm not afraid to take on something new, and I follow through with anything that I start. This marathon symbolizes that too.

The Goodlife Marathon also represents the changes that I've gone through as an individual in the past year. I've learned to make time for myself, which also means that I've learned to ask for help and to accept offers of help from friends. I've learned to accept that things may not go according to plan but staying focussed will keep my goals in sight. And I learned that by digging deep, I had the courage that I needed to keep going with my training when, most simply put, life just got in the way.

On the weekend, I realized that I have guts. On Monday, back at work, I realized that I have a lot of guts.

The marathon is not just a 42.2k race. It is the reward of months of hard work and determination; it is the fun that puts things back in perspective and gives us balance.

And, bringing home a honking big medal is a real perk.

Wind, Rain and Misthrown Footballs

2011-05-15T15:28:00.000-07:00

None of them stopped me!

I finished - wet, cold and estatic - in 3:35:40. That's a BQ, baby! Even better: that puts me in the first wave for registration!

The Stats!
2nd age group (45-49)
47/467 females
265/1296 marathoners

Race Report coming...

The Countdown is On

2011-05-14T09:21:00.000-07:00

Ramblings on the day before...

Yesterday's mishap did leave a bruise on my calf. I'm looking at this from a positive angle: of all the parts of that leg to hit, the ball found the one with the biggest muscle group and strongest muscles. Yup, I'm a muscle-mama. This can only mean that I will be fine.

Regardless, my chiro did a bit of work to loosen that area up this morning. I've been toying with the idea of wearing compression socks during the run and, thanks to Leah's affirmation that it might be a good idea, I think that will probably be the way to go. I'm not sure, though, if Toronto is ready to see some chick running in compression socks with hearts on the side.

With the changing temperatures, I'm also not sure what to wear. I think I'll stick with my original plan: a Running Skirt, of course. Long sleeves, short sleeves or arm sleeves are each still on the table.

Getting there is going to be my biggest challenge of the day. Little Ironman is going to a neighbour's in the morning, being picked up by a friend for a birthday party and, then, being watched by another friend until we get home. Skipper and Daddy are coming with me, but with Daddy being at the end of his 4 day night shift, it is going to be a tough wake-up call.

Other than these last minute stresses, which everyone faces in some shape of form in the days before a big event, we're good to go. Bring it on!

Freaky Friday

2011-05-13T20:11:00.000-07:00

I'm not superstitious by any means. Okay, perhaps the 1666 bib number, followed by temperatures of 6-6-6 made me a bit nervous in Montreal. And when a student tells me his/her birthdate is October 31st, I raise my eyebrows to determine if I'm looking at the Devil's Child.

On Monday, when I realized that Friday the 13th was two days before the Goodlife Marathon, I found my mind wandering. But Friday the 13th has never raised alarm bells for me so I simply put today's out of mind. However, when I got to school this morning, it quickly became obvious that today was not going to be my day. Rather than spare you of all of the other details that made my day frightful, I'm going to jump right to the punchline.

At recess this afternoon, while walking around and supervising students in the unfamiliar sunshine, I caught a glimpse of a shadow nearing me and I heard a "Look out!" I shrieked. I almost dropped the F-bomb. The grade 7's - big and strong male 13 year olds - missed the football; my right calf didn't. That's right, the calf that I've spent 6 weeks of physiotherapy and careful training on so that I can run this little 26.2 mile jaunt down Yonge Street got hit.

My calf immediately swelled and I sent the boys for ice - lots of it - but not until I yelled at them about being more careful. About 30 minutes later, it tightened. I wanted to cry.

Tonight, I did cry. My calf is still tight. I'm hoping that sleeping in compression socks will help. Tomorrow morning, my chiropractic appointment to unlock a few tight bones is now one when he is going to work at loosening that bruise.

I haven't come this far for nothing. I will carry on.

Wacky Wednesday - The Tunnel of Love

2011-05-11T20:21:00.000-07:00

It's almost a month after the Montreal Half-Marathon and I opened my bag of magazines and papers that I took with me. Among them, I found my list of things to write about when I returned. You guessed it: the Tunnel of Love was one of them.

That Friday night, during rush hour, we found ourselves driving through a tunnel. For the boys, this was different as our town doesn't really have any. Like most tunnels, it was long and dark, but it had this funky white paint that seemed to glow. Both Skipper, who had a passion for trucks, trains and tunnels when he was younger, and Little Ironman commented on the design.

"Whoa, this is a long tunnel," commented Skipper.

But Little Ironman had other things on his 5 year old mind. " Hey, this would be a good tunnel to kiss someone in because it's so dark."

Oh yeah, I'm in trouble.