Run

When I run, I am at peace. I am living one breath at a time. I am whole-heartedly aware of every fibre of my being.

It is my communion. It is my solitude. It is everything to me.

When I can’t run, I feel agitated. It makes the winter feel long and bleak. When I am not running, I feel an emptiness. I crave it when I have to step away for a long time.

Running has been my sanity in this crazy world. It has been my serenity. My peace. It is the gentle hand that lifts me up out of the pits of hell; it is the soft voice that tells me I am worthwhile.

Today, my heart is broken. Of all the bad news that flits across the screen each day, this is the first moment that I have ever felt instantly gutted. My soul is crying out for my brothers and sisters whose celebration has been devastated. Tears well up in my eyes uncontrollably every time that I think of our shattered landscape.

Running isn’t political. It isn’t elite; it isn’t polarizing. From the beginning, humans have been born to run. The fact that someone has stolen this innocence has me completely twisted in agony. I want to cry out, to wrap my arms around my running family and weep.

I want to scream and shout, to curse anyone who would steal our peace, our happiness. I want to rail against the darkness, beating my fists against this pain that keeps rising up in my chest.

I want to run until the hurt goes away.

Listography #1: Things I’m Looking Forward To in 2013

I’ve watched Crystal, Heather, and Melinda write their weekly lists for 2-ish years now, and I love every post. I hope they don’t mind, but I’d like to use their prompts each week on my own blog – I love the self-exploration and discovery, the reminiscing, the gratitude, the appreciation, the wonderment of it all. So, without further ado:

List #1: Things I’m Looking Forward to in 2013

  • Mexico. Always Mexico…I think it’s what gets me through these short, cold days!
  • Two sweet little bugz turning 5 years old
  • Festival/performance season as The Boss, for the first time in 8 years. Eeks!
  • Summer projects, like putting baseboards in our house, building new gardening beds, and more
  • Two months off this summer
  • Those little bugz climbing the steps to the big yellow school bus this September…although I’m equally scared about letting my babeez go off into the world!
  • (having two to three full days to myself this fall…)
  • More skiing this winter
  • Teaching the bugz to ride big-girl bikes, and surprising them with new bikes for their birthday this year
  • Saving for, planning, and booking our 2014 Disney Cruise!!!
  • Running outside when the weather warms up
  • Finishing up my 2nd round of 101 in 1001
  • Wrapping up the first “new” season of Expressions Dance Studio in 16 short weeks – ahhhhh!
  • Travelling to Vegas again for the Dance Teacher Web expo
  • More nights curled up on the couch with Leith, watching cheesy TV shows and bad movies together
  • Continuing the guilty pleasure of my Sweet Valley High book club with my childhood friend :)

What are you looking forward to in 2013?

 

The Year of Nothing

While the rest of the blogosphere is coming down from the buzz of deciding their New Year’s Resolutions and writing their Year in Review posts, I am sitting in my bed thinking about how little I plan to do in 2013.

You see, I decided that 2013 shall be The Year of Nothing.

2012 was all about kicking ass. And it really, really did. It was incredible. But it was so incredible that I really, truly just want to spend a year doing nothing.

I don’t mean to imply that I’m going to sit on my bum in my pyjamas and eat raw cookie dough all year as much as I love the sound of that. I mean that, for the first time ever, I’m not making any sweeping, dramatic plans for the year ahead.

Race schedule? Zero.
Wild holidays? None (other than Mexico, of course…how awesome is it that Mexico is just “standard” now??)
Major diet changes? Meh.
New skills? Don’t need ‘em.

I have two things to accomplish this year: finish my 101 in 1001, and find one more teacher for my studio for next fall (or convince Miss Krista to teach two nights a week for me!). Other than that, it’s free and easy down the road I go: Finish choreography, have my students perform, spend a lazy summer with my beautiful family, escape to Vegas for a little professional development (!!), and begin the life of a kindergarten parent next fall. Hang up my stay-at-home mom hat for 2-3 days a week. Hopefully only teach 2 nights a week instead of 3.

Just be.

Ahhhh…do you hear that? It’s the sound of unwritten/unfinished goals whooshing past into the shadows of my past. It’s the sound of simple existence. This is The Year of Nothing.

And for me, that will be quite something.

Wandering aimlessly

Ding…! Ding…!

I miss the sound of the bell echoing across the classrooms, the telltale prelude of static over the intercom. I miss the square of paper stuck inside my locker with sticky-tac, outlining every 40 minutes of my day. I miss the routine, knowing exactly when I had to get out of bed and where I had to be at any given time.

I miss the direction.

Lately, I’ve been feeling very lost. I feel like I am wandering through my days, barely accomplishing more than the basics: eat, sleep, bathe, teach dance, keep the bugz alive. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. When I lay my head down each night, I can’t recall anything that I’ve really done that day.

We ate. We washed. I worked.

I usually know this much: I didn’t clean. Laundry didn’t get done. I probably didn’t get any kind of workout in. I didn’t do anything with my kids, except maybe scold them or tell them what to do. We probably snuggled on the couch for an hour in the afternoon while I caught a much-needed nap. 9 hours of sleep a night, and I am still tired in the afternoons. Even if I don’t fall asleep, I need to close my eyes and rest.

I sent a text to my beloved Sku, who is also a life coach down in Calgary. I asked her how on earth to manage myself. I have all the time in the world, and none of the motivation. My house is a mess, my kids are unattended, and my office is in shambles. My organization is at an all-time low. I’ve had some dance parents remind me three weeks in a row to bring new tights for their child! Not cool, Magz. Not cool.

I told her all the things I need to do in a day, versus what’s actually getting done. She quite simply asked me: What are your priorities?

From that moment, I’ve been sitting here wondering. What are my priorities?? Obviously, basic needs are being met. We’re clothed and fed and bathed, and I haven’t blown up my house by accident. But all this other stuff:

  • Work administration
  • Teaching dance
  • Lesson plans
  • Meal plans
  • Grocery shopping
  • Having dinner mostly ready/cooked by 3:45pm, three days a week
  • Physio appointments
  • 5 workouts a week, anywhere from 40 minutes to over an hour
  • Driving, driving, driving
  • Swimming lessons
  • General tidying
  • Never-ending laundry
  • Actual cleaning
  • Banking, personal admin work
  • Spending time with the bugz
  • Spending time with Leith
  • Spending time with just ME
  • Other random errands

How do I prioritize that list?

I mean, obviously teaching dance is a priority since it’s my job. And with that, I have to dedicate hours in the week to the administrative role. All in all though, it’s not much more than 25 hours a week, including driving. But with that, I have to make my workouts and physio a priority, because I need to be physically able to keep up with the demands of my job. I also need to take care of my health in general, since I’m not getting any younger or skinnier ;)

So there’s that.

With the job comes the prep work: meal planning, grocery shopping, and having enough time each afternoon (Tuesday through Thursday) to prep and mostly-cook dinner for our sitter to give the bugz. It also means remembering to buy/pack food for myself to eat while I’m teaching.

The whole reason I left the “real job” world was to spend my days with my bugz before they head off to school next fall. Truly, I feel like I am failing in this area even more than I am failing at the housework. I spend little to no time with them outside our morning snuggles and afternoon psuedo-nap. I can’t remember the last time I sat down and coloured with them, or sat on the couch and read stories in the middle of the day. I can’t remember the last time I even suggested making a craft, let alone actually made one with them. They drift in and out of my field of vision all day long, mostly just asking for food or hugs. I oblige both. I kiss them goodnight when I get home, and I always tuck them in when I’m not teaching. Most nights, I end up sleeping with one or both of them, trying to suck more hours out of the day.

Soon they’ll be out of my house from 7:30am until 4pm every weekday, and I’ll regret that they weren’t a priority.

And then there is the housework. The easy stuff, like tidying and emptying the dishwasher. The harder stuff, like washing floors and bathrooms. And the never. ending. pile. of. laundry.

By the time I’m done feeling guilty about all the other stuff I haven’t done, I have zero desire to even look at my house.

So here I am: knowing why certain things are on the list of priorities, but having no idea which should be more important than the others. Should a workout that supports my health and my job come before making paper chains with my bugz for Christmas? Or should colouring wait until the dishes have been put away?

Is there time for all of it in the day?

Don’t answer that. I know the answer. My struggle is in finding the desire to make it all happen, and how.

And that is an answer I am still searching for.

Well that escalated quickly…!

Two weeks ago, I slipped on the ice. It was nothing at the time: slow motion slide to the ground as I walked around the back of my car. No bumps, no bruises. Just a sore palm from scraping against the ice as a last hurrah.

I was fine. Until the next night.

I made it through 15 minutes of 4-year old creative dance before I could no longer put my right hand on my waist. By the end of the night, I was sitting curled up in a ball, barely able to lift my head up to direct my students through their exercises.

It was pathetic.

Thankfully, a blizzard rolled through our area and I was able to cancel the next two nights of classes. Unfortunately, said blizzard also cut off my access to my physiotherapist and I wasn’t able to see her for a full week :( Let’s just say that the “healing” pain I finally endured made me sob silent tears into my pillow and pop more Motrin than I could refill in a day…

After tweeting with my angel of pain, it became clear: just dance (or just running, or just anything) wasn’t going to cut it anymore. I needed support. I needed strength. I needed to stop using physio as my personal expensive bottle of Advil to get me through the season. So I called in the pro:

Jessica Zapata from Infinite Fitness. A longtime twitter friend and renowned fitness expert in these parts…and by “parts”, I mean across the country. The woman is a force to be reckoned with. As I would soon find out…

Within a few days, with couple of keystrokes and an online coaching program made with love, I was laying on the carpet of my basement floor, willing myself to stand up. Thanks, Jess. You single-handedly destroyed me from the comfort of your home office. I love you THIS MUCH:

20121119-223040.jpg

She warned me: Monday and Saturday would be my hard days. But really??! Did she have to kill me? Because I didn’t realize “hard” was code for “kill Magz, or at least maim and leave for dead”. Sigh…

I started with 2:1 sprints. 8mph for 2 minutes, 5mph recovery for one minute. Not my old sprint speed, but for 3.5 months off, I’ll take it. Oh, wait: three sets. And then an insane 3-exercise circuit on my TRX suspension trainer. Wheeee! 3 rounds!!! Then 3 more rounds of sprints!!! Then another insane circuit of full body strength training. Then???!

She expected another round of sprints! For the ever-lovin-love-of-mother-truckin-mud. Thank goodness my IT-band decided to squawk loudly, thus allowing my dignity to creep down to a brisk walk without feeling like I was quitting.

I’ve never passively stretched so passively before. I basically laid on the floor and willed body parts to flop together while I trembled uncontrollably. I gulped water like I’d spent a month in the Mojave desert. If I breathed too quickly, I coughed like I’d inhaled a gust of sand and fiberglass insulation. I could barely hold up my own body weight to roll out my aching legs.

Then I dragged my sore-y ass upstairs and poured myself into a bath that was half Epsom-salt brine.

Tomorrow is my day off. Someone should really check in to make sure I’m not dead. Don’t panic if I don’t pick up my phone. The thing weighs something like 85 grams. So. Heavy.

This, my friends, is payback for every client I made puke or cry while I did a “maintenance” workout after their session. And then drove to McDonald’s.

Karma is a bitch.

The pain of giving up

The 30 kilometres I ran on July 29 really did me in.

It took me 4 days before I started to feel remotely normal. It messed with my mind, and it messed with my body. It left me feeling anxious and weary about running. I felt like I was coming down with a flu: my joints ached, my head hurt, my skin felt like it was the wrong size for my body. I craved weird foods, and I cried a lot.

I cried a LOT.

I wasn’t post-run sore. I was beaten. I started to feel chest-crushing anxiety when I looked at my training schedule: a mere 9 miles for my next long run, but no running the week after due to my Vegas convention, and then 22 miles the weekend I get back?? Not to mention the increasing mileage each weekday, growing from a few 5k runs to 6-, 7-, and 8-milers.

And the add the mounting obstacles of husbands who work out of town, kids who aren’t going to bed, roads that aren’t jogging-stroller-friendly, injuries that aren’t getting better, other races I want to run, and dance classes that will need to be taught?

Yup. Somehow, this October marathon became an insurmountable goal.

I think one of my biggest errors was throwing in the Moose is Loose. I raced that sucker hard, and then had zero recovery time. I also missed my 15-mile long run two weeks before that because of the extreme heat wave in our area. Add Leith being out of town for the past two weeks, forcing all my weekday runs indoors, and the odds really started to stack against me.

I don’t want to half-ass this marathon. I want to be strong when I go in. I don’t want the mentality of my first marathon to be, “Oh well, at least I finished.” I want it to be like Footstock. I want to stand at the start and know the latest time I’ll finish in. I want to compete with myself, and if I do the full marathon this fall, I won’t be a worthy competitor.

My body can’t take the enormous intensity of back-to-back training this year. If I push it, I’m going to hate it, and I’m going to get hurt.

So, I’m going to pull back. I’m going to keep my endurance up, and run the Rotary Run for Life half marathon here in September, and the Okanagan half marathon in October. I’m going to still enjoy a 4-day weekend in Kelowna, and a scenic race. I’m still going to enjoy my commemorative bottle of wine too ;)

And I’m going to keep running. I love it, and I will protect that love fiercely. I will not allow myself to overtrain and under-love. Next year, I will start the marathon training slow and early. I’ll plan my races earlier so that they fit into my training. I will enjoy the process, and soak in every extra mile.

This year, though? I’m only going to be half-crazy :)

***

This is part of the Summer Blog Challenge: a month of posting every day! Feel free to join in the fun :)

12k to go

I ran 30 kilometers today. It was quite honestly one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

It was hot out, to begin with. I also “lost” my dad around 24km- he was on his bike, stopped to stretch, and we missed each other. It was also right when I ran out of water…

I’ve never needed water on a run until today…and I ran out right when my training buddy was gone!!

The next 5km were the biggest psychological game I’ve ever played with myself. I *get* the wall now. If my dad hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have kept going. I was mentally done. I wasn’t in pain, for the first time ever, but I was done. I still had energy in my muscles, and my endurance was fine: I was keeping my “slow pace” at around 7 min/km.

But my brain? Done. Fried. I was counting down by 100m on my GPS. My dad tried to talk me into pushing past 29.3km (18 miles) and just doing 30km. Ha!

Then some trail-nazi decided to stand in front of my dad’s bike and freak out at him for cycling on his trail. Right. When. I. Was. Supposed. To. Stop. Running.

I was so pissed off that I RAN THE NEXT 700m JUST TO SHOW HIM. What a jerk.

But yay! I ran 30km with only fatigue!!

And then, on the kilometer-long walk back to my dad’s truck, the real test came. A dull ache spread down my fatigued legs, from my hips to my ankles. It hurt so much that I was in tears. It took so much strength to just keep moving and not completely lose it right there on the spot. The only thing I can compare it to is that awful ache of a sleeping limb waking up – not the pins and needles, but that take-your-breath-away ache that makes you still so very still until the blood and feeling returns.

It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt. But my dad? I’m so glad he was there. He didn’t crack a smartass comment about it. He just kept cycling and kept me moving. He kept me going.

So, 30km is done. It was scary. It was a huge mileage jump, and I’m exhausted. I slept on my mom’s couch for an hour before I could come home. The good news is that I only have 3 more long runs before the Okanagan marathon, and the only increase by 2 miles at a time…not 5 miles like today!

I need to sleep, eat, hydrate, and lick my mental wounds. I’m still in the game though, even though the game is suddenly a lot scarier!

Only 12 more kilometers to go!

20120729-172925.jpg

Get up

I have to run 7 miles tonight.

I don’t want to. The higher my weekly mileage gets, the harder it gets to motivate myself to just go.

If I could leap out the front door and run, that would be one thing. But the obstacles I’m facing are enough to make me drag my eyeballs from their sockets with rusty spoons. Yes, I am talking about BOREDOM!!

You see, two active 4-year olds and a husband who is out of town mean that my mileage this week (and next week) will be primarily indoors. In my basement, which is not only humid but also dark. The humidity wreaks havoc on our fluorescent lights, and they won’t turn on. I am literally running in the dark, save for the glow of the television. That means I have to watch TV to see. That means I need something moderately entertaining to watch for the duration of my run.

BUT HAVE YOU WATCHED TELEVISION LATELY??

It’s like dumb procreated with dumber. I can barely stomach a thing. And unless it’s PVR’d, I have to endure commercials. So, other than an hour of True Blood and a PVR’d 2-hour (really, 1:30) episode of So You Think You Can Dance, I’m staring at a glowing box for at least 40 minutes, at least 3 times a week. I am literally counting down the miles by the second.

Kill. Me. Now.

It’s enough to drive me to drink. Or at least procrastinate, except that I can’t. I committed to this little thing called the BMO Okanagan Marathon in a few months. 10 weeks, really. And this weekend, I am scheduled to run EIGHTEEN FREAKING MILES. In a row. In one day.

That means I have to keep up with my shorter weekly runs, at the risk of dying of utter boredom. Life was so much easier when my training runs were 30 minutes long. Tonight, I’ll be running anywhere from 60-70 minutes. In the dark.

Someone help me pout it out! These first world problems really suck sometimes.

Wavering

It’s Day Two of the Whole 30. I hate every living minute of it.

I have never, ever, in my whole life wanted to quit something so quickly.

I hate it. Yes, the food is tasty. Whatever. It’s not satisfying at all. At. All.

My reasons for doing this were varied:

  • Of course weight loss is always a little bit nice. I haven’t been able to break 135lbs, but I also haven’t been trying.
  • I like the paleo food lifestyle. We can’t eat gluten-y grains, and we avoid most dairy anyway. This provided some structure, which was much-needed and much-wanted.
  • I love doing stupid challenges, like my sugar fast. I wanted to see if I could do it.
  • I wanted to feel better.

But guess what? The Whole 30 is a HUGE, SUDDEN CHANGE, even for someone who eats 90% gluten/dairy-free already. The physical act of cooking and eating the super-strict Whole 30 food isn’t what’s hard. It’s the mental commitment to it.

You see, I’m already pushing my brain beyond it’s happy place with my marathon training. I have to run 18 miles this Sunday, and I have some serious mental energy that needs to unblock before then. This year’s training is taking more mental commitment than anything I’ve ever done.

I also have a husband who has been gone since Saturday, and now won’t be home until August 2nd. He was supposed to be home today. Surprise!!

There’s also the timing on top of the mental stress. I am going away for the August long weekend with two celiac kids. I already need to plan for their food, and I don’t know if I want the added stress of bringing my own food too. Plus, it’s kind of imposing and rude to my hostess (even though she’s a beautiful, accommodating soul). The morning after we get back, I leave for 5 days in Las Vegas. I’ll be dancing from 9-5 every day, plus three training runs. I’ll have a tight schedule around meal times, and I’ll be at a hotel the whole time. The hotel is at the edge of town – no time for grocery store trips or anything like that.

That, my friends, is 8 solid days of food stress. On top of travel stress, on top of training stress.

I honestly don’t think I can do this right now. I actually feel anxious about eating. THAT is not healthy. I actually want to CRY. It’s pathetic. I don’t want to run out and get a Blizzard and a bottle of wine. I just don’t want to feel trapped and anxious!

I’m a healthy person! I’m not overweight, and I’m very active. I have no discernible health concerns. This isn’t a do-or-die nutrition situation. But I have to stop and wonder: am I having trouble because of all the other stress it’s causing, or because I really need to do this for my body. Is this just withdrawal/cleanse, and I need to push through it? Or is it just BS and I need to take the warning signs and walk away, try again later?

And it’s not like I’ve been starving. I’ve eaten LOTS – at least 2000kcal each day for the past two days. But I’m forcing it in, and I’m still not getting nearly enough carbohydrates to support my training.

Ugh.

I don’t like quitting, and I quit too often. But it’s not worth the struggle right now. Even if I woke up tomorrow and it was an easy day, it’s not worth it right now.

I can go gluten-free and dairy-free. I can’t do this Whole 30 right now. So while the title of this post is “Wavering“, what it really means is “Quitting“.

I need some breathing room right now. I can’t do food guilt. I need to just eat and train and dance and run that marathon in October!

So, Whole 30? I quit.

The Moose is Loose

I’m going to start this off with the biggest disappointment:

Despite the name, there was NO moose anywhere on the race course.

Sadness.

But I did get up bright and early today to run my second half marathon!! It was also my second half marathon in 2012, and my second half marathon in 6 weeks!!

I was a little disappointed in the course. I was expecting a rolling 21.1km of trails. Instead, I got a fairly flat course that was only about half trail. The rest was paved pathway. Not quite the “trail run” I’d been told about… The course volunteers were also less than enthusiastic for the most part, sitting in chairs, not clapping or cheering, barely acknowledging the runners.

But the sun was shining, and it wasn’t yet scorching hot out. Once the initial bottleneck thinned out, I had a really enjoyable 21k! My IT band didn’t bother me until 14k, and it didn’t stop me in my tracks until almost 18k. Even still, I was able to keep a normal gait this time ;)

I also ran the full distance! I took 5 seconds to walk and chug 2oz of water at 4 aid stations, and about 15 seconds when my IT band smacked me at 18k, but that’s it! My pace was awesome too: I varied between 5:30 min/km and 6:30 min/km for an average pace of 6:00 min/km. I was blown away! While my “burst” at Footstock was 5:30, I ran my last kilometer at about 4:15, with energy to spare!

All that speed meant that I knocked nearly FIVE MINUTES off my Footstock time! I finished in 2:05:56 by my Garmin!!

Crazy!

Half marathon #2 is done for 2012! I don’t think I’d do this race again, but it was still a nice morning. There’s no rest for the wicked though: next week’s long run is 18 miles in preparation for Kelowna!

Meanwhile, I have another finisher’s medal to add to my collection:

20120722-223624.jpg