When your fall is shot to s%^t.

Yup.  You read that right.  This fall racing season got shot in the crapper.  And you know what....I don't hate it.  After the suck-ness that was Boston, I had every intention of getting back on the Gatorade and GU soaked saddle of the marathon horse and riding into the sunset of a multitude of fall marathons and ultras, and then shit got real.  Like, REAL realz.  With a 'z'.

First, I hit the year mark of my hamstring/nerve injury in early July and still felt like junk.  Stride was still off, foot numbness was still wrecking my world, and long runs just sucked.  They were painful, miserable, and just hard to fit into my schedule without miserably waking up early on a weekend morning and slogging through double digit miles.  By the end of August, I made a super hard decision to bail.  I cried, I was pissed, and then on an over 90 degree Sunday morning (in which I did not have my children at home, so I totally could've slept in), I said F it.  I was no longer enjoying running, and I needed to get back to that.  I decided to keep this fall light, and remember what it was like to have fun.

So, here's where this journey has come full circle.  When I let myself go, and not put so much pressure on each run, I actually started to have FUN.  WTF?! You mean you don't have to pound every single mile at race pace? You don't have to make GU a food group in your diet? You can SLEEP IN? Sweet Holy Moses.  Amazing.

I run for a lot of reasons.  I like carbs.  And by 'like' I mean bagels are life.  I like to unapologetically eat the other half of my 4 year-olds gigantic soft pretzel.  I like to move.  I like to feel successful when winning or placing well in a race. But mostly, I love running because it's the only time during my day when I shut down, tune out, and the constant noise silences for a bit.  I suck at things like yoga and meditation, but running allows my brain to quiet and re-start to deal with the zillion things that I need to do at works, as mom, as a wife, etc.

Now that running is fun again, I have also taken the opportunity to try some new things I am really excited about.  Next week, my son, Carter and I will be volunteering at an expo, and I will run the Runner's World half for the first time.  I started experimenting with running fuels that I can shovel in my mouth while on the trail or treadmill and I have stolen many a great recipe from Pinterest (see below)

Breaking from my plan has been awful and beautiful at the same time, and I am so excited to share my race report next week, so stay tuned and try out these energy bites below, and you'll see what's up too.  ** Plus mini chocolate chips are freaking awesome and for the most part, dark chocolate ones will be vegan!!

Ingredients

• 1½ cups old fashioned oat flakes
• ½ cup peanut butter or almond butter
• ⅓ cup honey or agave (if going vegan)
• ¼ cup raisins or other dried fruit
• ¼ cup mini chocolate chips
• ½ tsp vanilla
• a little sea salt to taste 

Instructions

1. Add all of the ingredients to a medium sized bowl and stir well until everything is combined.
2. Roll into 1-1/2" balls and set them on a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. Wash your hands after every 4 balls to help keep the ingredients from sticking to your hands.
3. Refrigerate for 20 minutes to help them harden. (Optional).
4. Store the leftovers in a zip lock bag in the fridge

You gotta love the 10 lb honey bear

So, a few weeks ago I ran a 5k. What's that you say? Brooke.  Seriously.  You have run 5 marathons and why do we care about a 5k? Well, I am here to tell you why it was awesome...YOU GET A FREAKING BRONZED HONEY BEAR FOR A TROPHY.  Yup, that's right.  A freaking honey bear.

I am admittedly not the best night runner. I freak out all day long about what I am eating, drinking (or not drinking), plan and re-plan my outfit, stuff my car with snacks, and pack and re-pack my shoes.  And by shoes (yes, that is shoe with an 's' at the end), I mean flip flops, 2 pairs of trainers, 2 pairs of flats, and god only knows what else.  I literally could've outfitted a family with the amount of crap I pack for 20 minutes of actual racing.  I digress...

So, on race day, I had not signed up before since I am a habitual procrastinator, so I said 'later' to the kids and headed out.  While turning into the parking lot, I realized that I am the personification of millennial-ness and didn't have cash, so I had to head out and grab some.  By this point, I am having a minor nervous breakdown because I am not my typical hour early. I grab my cash and head over to sign up and I am told that the last on site registration has been taken.  WTF. I mean what the actual f*&k.  My friend sees me literally starting to shrivel up and die in the parking lot and runs over.  She, being the awesomely bad ass chick that she is, joins me in giving the registration table volunteers the evil death stare until they are forced to take my money and give me a number.  Great success.
We warm up, line up, and take off.  Mile 1 clicks by.  Mile 2.  Mile 2.000001 hits and I know that I am starting to hit the evil lactic threshold.  Luckily, I am in the lead and have about a minute on the next female.  Life sucks after that, but luckily I can hold on and make it over the finish line semi-intact.  My girl, Becca, finishes right after me, making it a 1-2 win for Team New Balance Harrisburg.  Thank the lord.

We do a have assed cool down and wait for the awards.  I am super pumped because it was a decisive win, and there's no question I will be walking out with my second honey bear.  They start calling the top 3 guys...then it's my turn...."and first female, Jesse something-or-other" . My stomach falls into my ground.  WTF.  Well, turns out, a dude was registered as a female.  I find this out only by scouring the scene to find this guy with no help from the timing company, who basically told me to suck it.  We get it figured out, and I leave the race with an envelope of cash and MY FREAKING HONEY BEAR.  In the words of Ice Cube, "today was a good day"

Cutting back on the fries might be a good idea

In the past few weeks 3 races happened, and two finishes almost didn't.

First, I had the opportunity to do an evening run at the end of June in Harrisburg, PA.  It was a very hot and steamy night, but it was a race that was sponsored by my team's home store, so running was a no-brainer.  A fellow NB Harrisburg team member ran as well, so it was nice to catch up.  A simple 5k across a bridge, down a steep slope, along a river path, back up and over the bridge.  I can't say it was an easy win, but a win non the less.  I ran just over 20 minutes for the 5k, which was so-so- and certainly not a PR, but I was starting to feel like I was coming back after last year's injuries and marathon focused training. 

Next, we headed to Rehoboth beach for our family vacation, which involved lots of take out and French fries. I had every intention of running a bunch of races, but opted for only 1 on the 4th of July.  Again, very hot, humid, and steamy conditions and I felt good when we showed up at registration, but everything started to fall apart from the get-go.  Long lines for limited restrooms meant that I didn't get my customary 3 trips before the race, which is never good- especially after you've birthed children.  About a mile into the race, I knew the wheels were going to fall off, and it was a miracle that I finished with just some dry heaves.  Stomach issues are never a good thing, especially when trying to run all out in very hot and humid weather. 

The Saturday after was my least favorite race EVER in my hometown, which I try to make excuses to avoid at all costs, but this year the charity was an organization that my mother has helped to spearhead, so I ran as a favor to her.  As I showed up to the 5 miler in my normal team gear, I was greeted by some of the people involved in the charity and asked to wear a cotton t-shirt that featured the logo.  Cotton= terrible idea.  Within the first few hundred yards my rolled up sleeves were falling down and I spend who knows how much energy re-rolling the too long sleeves back up.  The temperature and humidity seemed to swell to exponentially high proportions and I started dying.  And not just figuratively dying, like legs exhausted, heaving, tunnel vision dying.  I started throwing water at aid stations on myself and running through the neighbor's hoses that they were spraying out in the street.  Stupid.  Very Stupid.  My mile 3, my shirt was soaked and weighted at least 5 extra pounds.  At this point, I gave up.  A race turned into just getting to the finish.  With a mile to go, I got passed by a 12 year old girl.  Literally, 12.  I wish I was lying, but I am not.  I finally finished around 36 minutes, which I have not finished a 5 miler in that slow of a time in years.  I did throw a pout-fit for a bit, but then I reminded myself that this race was not for me.  It was a favor to my parent to show support for a charity that she finds so important.  So, I sucked it up, changed clothes, drank 4 bottles of water, and put on a happy face.  The 12 year old girl eventually found me, and actually thanked me for the encouragement our on the course when she passed me.  The weird thing, she called me by name.  I asked her how she knew me, and she said that her mom was a high school runner when I was HS running, and she knows that I am really fast and run marathons and told her to come over.  It was so sweet and lovely, I have to admit, it kicked the old ego back up a little.  We hugged, and stood together and chatted for a bit about her upcoming junior high running season.  It was pretty special.

So, in the end, 1 outta 3 isn't bad.  And sometimes a little running love from a sweet kid can go a long way.

Product Review - Buddy Pouch

Holy cannoli.  Ever think, "Damn.  I should've come up with that..."? Well, that's exactly how I feel about a product I was asked to review for National Running Center recently.  The Buddy Pouch Mini is freaking amazing- and I don't use the word 'freaking' lightly. 
The basic idea is that it is a little half IPhone sized pocket that you flip over the top of your shorts to store stuff like keys, a gel, or debit card for those inevitable Gatorade stops on long runs.  There's a super-strong magnet attached to the non-pocket side that keeps everything in place. 
I was very skeptical going into this experiment for a few reasons.  First, I hate extra stuff.  I would definitely call myself a minimalist in the way of gear, mostly based on many, many years of not having to give a crap about all of the extras like fuel and hydration (stupidly, I should add). Secondly, I am a miniature person. At a whopping 5'2" (and I lie for the most part and make myself far taller, like 5'3"), NOTHING fits like it should.  Extra smalls are laughable- I either look like a sausage stuffed into some random garment or belt, or they fall off.  At least I know I can still fit into a small, dorm-sized refrigerator, but please don't ask how I actually have these facts in my wheel house.  Needless to say, between genetics and my own stupidity, I hate stuff...but I love this product.  My first run with the Buddy Pouch was on my treadmill.  I was planning on shooting for a 5 miler with the pouch filled with my ID, a gel, and a few miscellaneous keys.  At the 5 mile mark, I actually forgot why I was stopping and just continued for another 5 miles and totally forgot I was wearing it.  Treadmill trial 2 did not go as well, but I was wearing my 'fat shorts' and they started to fall down a bit.  Definitely not the best idea on my part, so please rule out the 'fat shorts' (or basically your loose cotton-esque styles).  Trial 3 was at a 5k. My basic uniform is the classic super short biker-style shorts that never have the extra inside 'little pocket' so I end up tying my key to the drawstring, which is super annoying and looks strange- use your imagination here.  I put my key into the pocket and actually attacked it to my back near my back bone indent and again, totally forgot about it until I needed to get into my car. That's super amazing, since a stray hair usually makes me freak out like a tarantula is crawling across my skin. 
Essentially, this little product freaking rocks, and they can 'shut up and take my money' any day of the week.  Run, don't walk to http://www.nationalrunningcenter.com/  and buy one ASAP.

Global Running Day

Global running day...sounds like one of two things, a pseudo holiday made up by running shoe manufacturers to sell stuff or THE GREATEST DAY OF THE YEAR!!
Yes, I love running, but I love it for transcends just being fast.  This year has been quite the year of trial and error and potentially missed opportunities, setbacks, and readjustment of goals. 

Last year, on the first weekend in June, I ran one of the best Red Rose Runs that I have ever been able to pull off.  A just over 32:00 5 mile run is certainly good, but not quite incredible, however, it was not completely miserable and I was just coming off a very heavy season of racing.  About 2 weeks later I ran my first ever trail 5 mile run (outside of cross country races of course), and it was a total disaster and the perfect set up for a year long injury.  One more 5k in the end of June, and I was down for the count with a massive hamstring tear.  Not like, wow, this hurts, like I went to the PT and they were amazed I was still walking and trying to hobble through a few miles.  It was devastating.  It wasn't like there was a snowball's chance in Hell I was going to quit running, so I stupidly kept at it through horrible pain and very little actual movement.  Months and months passed, and my disappointment in my big comeback was totally overtaking every aspect of my life.  I was so used to pounding out miles, placing at races, and getting out my frustrations, that to have such a setback was very difficult to handle. 

Late September finally rolled around, and I signed up for the Boston Marathon, with huge amounts of apprehension.  I could barely make it through an hour run, how the heck was I going to pull this one off? Not so sure. 

Months later, I would line up in Hopkinton, walk run the last few miles...but finish anyway. 

Last weekend, I took to the streets of Lancaster once again for another Red Rose.  I was very apprehensive going into the run.  Would it be another disappointment? Would I feel like junk? Thankfully, I decided to completely change up my routine.  Different race kit (which I have not changed in years), different nutrition, and new race plan.  I found some friends at the start, and decided that instead of going out like a crazy person and taking advantage of the few down hills, I would hold back and save it for the inevitable gigantic finishing hills. I stuck to the plan, and shockingly, it was not terrible! I finished in a hair under 34:00, BUT I had a good time, didn't feel like death, and even won my age group.  I know there's a lot to work on, but it feels like I am finally getting back to racing shape and moreover, getting back to my love of running.  Here's to a great summer. 

Track's not easy

Yesterday, I read an article in my local newspaper (link below) that somehow was aiming to indicate that track and field is somehow an 'easy' sport in which athletes just run around or throw things.  Let me tell you, this made me lose my mind. 

From the athlete perspective, track is one of the most technically difficult sports you can 'play'.  There's a certain strategy to running a race, throwing an object, or jumping over something.  You simply can't just decide this is something you want to do one day and be successful.  It take years of practice just to get the simple techniques mastered.  For example, let's talk cadence.  The most efficient runners' feet will hit the ground 180 times per minute.  Not 179, not 181; 180.  Go out and try  this for a 400 meter run.  It's excessively difficult to time your steps, length of stride, arm swing, torso angle, etc.  Also, try running full speed for 800 meters without knowing anything about strategy.  See how that works out for you. 

Training is an entire different story as well.  Does anyone think a high school kid WANTS to miss out on a Friday night with their friends because they have to pile on to a bus at 6 am to go to an all-day Invitational? Or not be able to eat because they are so nervous about their track meet that starts after school? From my observation, most football players and soccer players never had this issue. 

Injuries are also a factor.  I have been known (as well as many other track athletes) to suffer through catastrophic injuries and long rehabilitation periods, while still showing up to practices to sit on the side lines and cheer for their teammates through their tears because they know they worked for months in the pre-season. 

As a coach, my athletes inspired me every single day.  I was one of the faster kids at my high school and was able to insulate myself into my self-indulgent 'super-star status', so noticing the struggles of some of the other kids was not really an observation until I had the opportunity to coach.  One of my favorite kids, Don (he won't care that I used his name, he knows he's one of my favorites), showed up on his first day not being able to run for more than a few minutes, but every freaking day that kids showed up, never complained, and frankly, added so much to our team that we dragged him along to the meets that he didn't even qualify for.  Kids like this enrich the fabric of the team and everyone is a little better because of them. 

Lastly, as a parent, I find it perfectly offensive that one person would essentially de-value an activity that kids were participating in.  I don't care if my own children are running track, in the band, or on the debate team.  As long as they are not sitting around the house, or getting in trouble, whatever they want to do is fine with me.  Who is to say that one sport or activity is superior to another? Certainly not me, and certainly not some hack writer.  Shame on anyone that puts kids down for wanting to participate in something with their friends.  Shame on Lancaster News Papers for perpetuating our football culture and re-emphasizing gender role stereotypes.  We need to work together to make all of our kids feel included, appreciated, and encouraged or we will keep repeating the cycle of feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, and lashing out. 

Change the story. Go for a run.

Read the article here: http://tinyurl.com/lt7896f

That was something....

Well, the Boston Marathon kicked my ass.  Not just like, it was a hard race (which it was) but like it set me on fire, kicked me off a cliff, then ran over me with a truck.  I have never had a harder race in my entire life, and never felt as though it was a miracle that I finished.  Here's a brief re-cap.

Sunday, the 'rents and I leave for Boston.  Dad drives 6 hours with a few food stops along the way.  What can I say? The dude likes to eat.  We get to the expo, and I think all of us were overwhelmed by the amount of people, which turned out to be absolutely nothing compared to the actual race.  We get my  stuff, take the customary pictures, and head off to the hotel.  The rest of the night is pretty mundane, but of course none of us sleep all that great in anticipation of the day ahead.

Monday morning 5:30.  I finally let myself get out of bed after a pretty restless night.  I throw on my racing clothes and throw away shirt, and inhale a bagel and coffee.  A few hours later, I am standing in a corral with my BRF (best running friend) and the field of 5,000 plus people goes absolutely silent.  And not silent like when you just shut out sound in your own head, but silent like we all know this is going to be a long 4 hours ahead of us and we are all a bit apprehensive, but excited about what is going to happen.  Marathons are a strange animal and anything can happen.  The 26.2 gods laugh in your face when you think you have a plan.  Good luck with that one....

Fast forward to the 5k mark.  I am in great position.  Pushing the pace a bit, but at this point, we have spent the last few miles on basically a decline or flat.  I've already lost my friend, so I am just going with it.  10k still in great shape.  Banging out 7:05-7:15 pace and still feeling ok.  10 miles and shit hits the fan.  I feel my body temperature spike and my skin feels like it is burning.  I drop the pace to 7:35-7:45.  I am drinking Gatorade every aid station and also dumping water on myself.  13 miles in kinda shitty shape.  It is just freaking hot.  16 miles and we start a significant climb.  My watch has stopped and I am supposed to be looking for my family somewhere around this area.  I have no idea what my pace is, and I start to panic.  My quads feel like they are just tearing apart, my skin is burning, and I am starting to have tunnel vision from looking for my Sherpa team.  I finally hear my family (before I see them of course, our volume control problem is finally coming in handy) and almost in tears, I hand off my belt pack because it is chafing my skin off under my wet tank top.

20 - 21 miles is Heartbreak Hill.  Well, that wasn't such a big issue, since I was already half running/half walking.  I am at the point where I am trying not to collapse and the medical tents are looking very attractive.  However, I also hear my mother's voice berating me for running marathons if I stop, so I say f- it and continue my walk run.  Mile 24 I see the Citgo sign.  I may have flipped it off.  Now I am pissed.  Not mad because I am not in shape, but pissed that I made some major rookie mistakes.  Going out too fast on a hot day, not breaking in my shoes enough, getting caught in the crowd, I mean really it couldn't have been much worse. 

Mile 25-26 finally turns the corner and heads down Boyleston Street.  I had dreams for weeks of this moment being absolutely life changing and magical, but it wasn't.  It felt like I was absolutely crawling and I couldn't even bring myself to put my hands over my head for the customary Boston celebration picture.  Nope.  Nothing.  I felt nothing.  Even walking over to the medal area and seeing my family, I was glad to see them, but I didn't feel the gut-wrenching pride that I prepared myself for.  Then, we left.  That was it.  Just done.

The marathon is a different animal than any other race, and that day it bit me in the ass.  BUT, there's always next year and now its time to start on the next training cycle, so next time, I bite back.