On Fartleks and Strides

Yes, fartleks. I just learned the word yesterday when I checked out some of the training advice offered to DFMC runners by our collective coach, 1976 Boston Marathon winner Jack Fultz.

Apparently, we're not just supposed to run and run and run and run some more in order to train for this thing. A marathon training regimen, he explains, requires regular jogs of increasing distances, but it also needs to include some speed work to build stamina. Fultz tells us that for most novice marathoners (that would be me), speed work can take the form of strides and fartleks:

A stride is a quicker run of approximately 100 meters, usually run at 80%, 85%, or 90% of your top speed.

This might be hard for me, since I have no idea how to sense what 80-90% of my top speed is, unless I'm on a treadmill. I usually just run, sometimes sprinting at the end of my course. Anyway, strides are meant to help a runner stretch her muscles at the end of a run and build her speed, over time. Fultz claims that if I do 6-10 strides at the end of most of my daily runs, I'll be teaching my body "the correct biomechanics of running faster." Hmmm.

A fartlek, from the Scandinavian for "speed play," is used to push one's pace in bursts from 1 to 5 minutes periodically during a 5- or 10-miler. The point is to keep the rest interval short (1 to 2 minutes), when you'll jog slower to recover before resuming your normal pace.

So there you are. I guess I'll have strides with a side of fartleks to help me prepare. And I thought this would be easy ;)

Running Trivia Bits

The latest issue of Runner's World has some interesting statistics about those of us who consider ourselves runners. Here's a sample.

Numbers of people who finished the following race distances in 2005 (from American Sports Data, Inc., and Running USA's Road Running Information Center):

• 5-K: 3.1 million
  
• 10-K: 1.04 million
  
• Half-marathon: 536,000
  
• Marathon: 432,000

Median marathon finishing times (from American Sports Data, Inc., and Running USA's Road Running Information Center):

• Women: 4:51 [I've never been so excited to be average!]
  
• Men: 4:20

Best excuses for getting out of work or family obligations in order to go for a run (from a sample of about 10,000 Runner's World readers):

• #9: I can't attend because my wife is ovulating.
  
• #4: My dog just went into cardiac arrest.
  
• #1: I'm too drunk

Favorite post-run rituals (from a sample of about 10,000 Runner's World readers):

• Eating: 39% (me, too)
  
• Napping: 23%
  
• Ice-bath: 6%
  
• Massage: 3%

Marathons that top the list (from a sample of about 10,000 Runner's World readers):

1. Boston [!!!]
   
2. Chicago
   
3. New York City
   
4. Marine Corps, Washington, D.C.
   
5. Disney, Orlando, FL

For more of these, see the December 2006 issue of Runner's World.

A Riddle

This morning I did not cash in my extra hour for sleep; it's just not an option when you have a young child--the extra hour gets spent playing. So, since we were up, I went for a run. It is VERY windy today, with gusts probably in the 30 mph range. Answer me this, then: How come, when I run in a loop, the wind is never at my back? Just a question.

Breast Cancer Facts

While Breast Cancer Awareness Month winds down, the fight to find a cure wages on. Here are some facts about breast cancer risk, which are also posted on the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation website.

• There is a known link between bone density and breast cancer risk. High bone density is associated with elevated blood estrogen, which is a risk factor for breast cancer.
  
• Having one's first child at 35 or younger tends to provide some protection from breast cancer. Women who have their first child at later ages seem to face an increased risk of breast cancer, versus having the first child at younger ages.
  
• Studies report an association between body weight and breast cancer risk, though the relationship is complex. Being a bit overweight seems to lower a woman’s risk of getting breast cancer before menopause, but after menopause, being overweight increases the risk anywhere from 20 to 60%.
  
• Even though nearly 80% of breast cancers occur in postmenopausal women, there are many women who succumb to the illness because detection did not occur early enough and they did not feel at-risk due to their youth.
  
• A woman with an immediate family member (mother, sister, daughter) who has had breast cancer faces an increased risk by about 2 to 3 times that of a woman with no family history.
  
• Women who begin menstruation prior to age 12 seem to experience a 20% increase in risk, compared to women who report menarche after age 14. This is because breast cancer risk is elevated by a high lifetime exposure to estrogen. The earlier a girl starts menstruating, the longer her estrogen released during the menstrual cycle has to affect her breast tissue.

These are just some of the important points for women to understand about breast cancer risk. The Komen Foundation provides a fantastic summary table of these and other risk factors.

While public health statistics are critical educational tools that hopefully raise awareness and personal prevention efforts, I think an equally essential component of prevention requires fundamental changes in how women think about their bodies. Case in point, to avoid being a total hypocrite, I just went for my gynecological exam for the first time in almost two years; I had not been tested for cervical cancer since my 6-week check-up after Henry was born.

Likewise, I only just started taking calcium supplements, even though I know the hereditary nature of osteoperosis and am aware that my mother and grandmother both have this condition. I know the women's health statistics and my own risk for cancer, given my family history, and yet, I was not making my health a priority. This is not to say I wasn't making my body a priority; I exercise, I (try to) eat well, and like many women, I dwell on my physique more than I should. It has required effort and the serious illness of Lyme Disease to instruct me that my health should not be seen as important only when I am in pain or ill. It is who I am because it makes the rest of my life possible. My health enables me to take care of my son and to teach and to create art. Without a sound body, I am pretty much absent. I am only just starting to see the prevention of illness as health and self care. But it has been an important lesson to learn and one that might prolong my life and its quality.

Heartbreak Hill? Bring It On.

A Run on the Market
Originally uploaded by Daltoris.

Alright, so maybe that's my hubris talking. But yesterday, I took on perhaps the most notorious hill in Westford, and while I wouldn't recommend running it during rush hour at dusk like I did, I can report that I ran its entire slope and wasn't completely spent by the time I reached the peak. This hill covers at least a half mile and is especially steep in several places, so I was elated that my stamina was good enough to get me to the top. Granted, I'd only been running about 3 miles before taking on the hill, and Heartbreak Hill (see photo at left) is at mile 20 in the marathon, but I'm encouraged that with my hill training on Westford's many slopes, I hopefully won't be defeated by the ill-reputed marathon mountain.

Like Westford's version, Heartbreak Hill spans a half-mile, but once you reach the top, there is a descent to "ease your breathing and punish your legs," as the Boston Globe puts it. Many people claim this hill is the make-or-break of Boston Marathon finishers, as it serves as the last of four hills in the town of Newton, before you cross into Boston. I understand that what makes these hills tough is not their grades, but their location towards the end of the course (keeping in mind, one still has 6 miles to go before finishing).

According to Wikipedia, the Hill got its name in 1936, when defending champion John Kelley caught up with the leader of the day, Ellison "Tarzan" Brown, who was struggling on the hill. Kelley gave Brown a pat on the shoulder, which was enough to refuel his competitive spirit, and Brown pulled away, going on to win. According to a Globe reporter, this act was responsible for "breaking Kelley's heart." Needless to say, Heartbreak Hill has probably gone on to break numerous hearts in the more widely recognized way, by dashing hopes of completion or setting personal records. Let's just hope it doesn't break mine.

Ladies, Feel Your Boobies

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and given that the month is nearly over, I want to direct attention to a particular website that a friend told me about weeks ago and I've meant to blog before the end of October. Check out Leigh's story and campaign, which has evolved into a hip non-profit that sells clothing and accessories intended to increase breast cancer awareness by reminding us to take ownership of our bodies and our health by conducting regular breast self-exams.

Leigh Hurst was a regular gal. She was a marathon runner who, thank goodness, performed regular self-exams, because she detected a lump that turned out malignant. Thanks to her early detection, she has successfully treated her cancer. Leigh was only 33 when her cancer was diagnosed, so her message is particularly apt for those of us who don't yet consider ourselves at-risk. She and I also share other similarities, besides both being runners. Also a central PA native, Leigh lives just outside Harrisburg, where I grew up, and is also an adjunct college professor. She founded Feel Your Boobies when a tshirt originally designed for friends got national attention. Thanks, Leigh, for all of your work and inspiration.

Field Day vs. The Dentist

If anyone had told me ten years ago that I'd have run two marathons before I turned thirty, I would have rolled my eyes, and most people who knew me in high school would have done the same. All through school I avoided gym class, especially track and field segments of the curriculum. Besides having an irrational fear of the hurdles, I was simply slow. I never won any races and rarely even received the ribbons kids get just for participating, because I often found ways to get out of Field Day altogether. Every year, when the warm weather set in, I would look up the date for my school's Field Day and ask my mother to schedule my Spring dental cleaning for that day. You know your kid hates sports when she'd rather have her teeth scraped with a metal pick than throw a softball or run in a relay race.

So, my adult interest in running is a surprise to me and most of those who have known me growing up. Suffice it to say, a regular running practice was not a lifestyle decision, but simply an inexpensive way to stay in shape and burn some energy at a time when I couldn't afford to join a gym. I do not claim to be a strong runner and despite having run a marathon and planning to run another, I still consider myself a novice. What I love about it is that it is the only atheletic outlet I have had that makes me feel strong and successful. Having danced throughout my chilhood and played tennis in high school, my physical activities have always turned competitive. Even yoga class became an opportunity to stretch further than my peers. I usually run by myself, so I can feel fast and powerful because there's no one there to compare to.

I still know that I'm not especially quick-footed, based on my finish times for various races. Because of this self-image, I was surprised to actually win first place in my age group for the local 5k last Spring. It was like my Field Day mojo finally kicked in. I don't even care that my competition was only a field of six other women between the ages of 20 and 29. I won. I got a trophy. And the dentist would have to wait.

Runny Noses and Running Ragged

This weekend was spent running everywhere and jogging nowhere. Henry turned two and enjoyed three birthday parties--2 for him and 1 for his cousin, who shares his birthday. This meant that I spend the bulk of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday running around town and around the house to clean, cook, and provide toddlerized excitement. Today, Monday, we are all spent and Henry's nose is running incessantly from the cold that worsened from his sapped energies this weekend. But, with the visiting and partying relatives came more donations, and we are almost to $3000 (about $15 short). So, the weekend festivities finish on a very positive note and I'm off to have a nap.

Looking Out My Back Door

This is my favorite time of year to be outside and to run. The weather is (usually) dry and cool, but not yet cold enough to make my eardrums ache and my lungs burn after I jog. And when you factor in the foliage, I just can't stand being inside. I haven't had a chance to run for the last couple days and I feel like I might go nuts given that the climate has been ideal.

Henry's going through a reading phase that has turned books into literary crack, so I find myself sitting much of the day, looking out the window, and reciting Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb to him because I've already read it to him a dozen times. Hum drum, hum drum, hum drum, hum. Even the rumor of a moose sighting on our street this weekend can't seem to get him away from the books (and Henry loves moose, inexplicably).

So here I am, moody, Seussed-out, and desperate to hear those acorns crunching underfoot.

Cross-Training

Anyone who's spent any significant amount of time with a toddler knows what good exercise they can be. It is truly awesome (and often awful, I confess) to go through a day with a two-year-old. Mine's not even as active and hyper as I've seen 'em at the playground and, still, the calories I burn entertaining him must at least rival those burned while vacuuming.

I read once that people spend a lot of calories laughing, which I do a lot of during my time with Henry, but to be honest, I think I spend more calories making sure he doesn't trip & fall, shut his fingers in a cabinet, or fall off the bed--and two of those he did today (the first two, and he's fine, thanks). So, my thinking is that the cross-training recommended to runners preparing for a marathon can be easily taken care of through activities such as Flying Angel (see photo), marathon sessions of "I'm a Little Teapot" and "Ring Around the Rosie," and climbing our steep driveway from getting the mail while carrying him on my shoulders (great for the glutes).

So, if you're looking to get in shape, give me a call. I could use a babysitter.

How to Be Bored

So I've been running without my iPod since its untimely demise during the 10k. These runs have been enhanced by the beautiful peak foliage, but as could be expected, running to the sound of one's breath can tend towards boring and leads to some introspection not otherwise experienced while listening to Nelly sing "Air Force Ones." What I've observed is that boredom is good for me, and I'll venture to suggest that a little boredom could benefit most people.

I think most Americans live to avoid boredom. It's part of our consumer culture and the desire to be pleased, and even excited, most of our waking hours. It's also one reason why so many people work longer hours than they probably should. What happens when we aren't entertained or at work? Personally, I get bored, and I hate being bored. At least, I did. Being bored on my runs has strengthened me mentally because it forces me to pay attention to things around me while I'm bored and after I finish running. I start to notice things, like the sound of acorns crunching under my feet, which is a really satisfying sound, I'll have you know.

Try being bored for a little while. And see what happens. Don't let yourself avoid it by turning on the TV or finding something to eat. It's like a little tiny protest to the way we're told to be, which is either constantly gratified or seeking gratification. So be bored.

This is not at all to say that I won't be over the moon when I get a new iPod.

Action Shots from the 10K

Also posted on my Flickr page, here are the remaining photos of my 10K run on Monday:

A Family Affair

Who knew that when I sent out my request for donations, I'd learn that a cousin will also be running the Marathon in April? It turns out that my mother's cousin's daughter (you figure that one out), who happens to be a speed demon and qualified to run in Boston, will be running "with" me! "With," because literally running with me would be the equivalent of tying bricks to her shoes, but perhaps return to the finish line to cheer me in after having her post-race massage and a nice long meal. Congrats, Cynthia, you're my hero for qualifying, and especially for qualifying while raising two young girls. Wow.

For Shirley

I am running the marathon in honor of Shirley, my grandmother, who died from breast cancer when I was a child. In particular, I'm running to honor her bravery and the pain I saw my father experience as he watched his mother decline. This past summer, I was diagnosed and treated for Lyme Disease. While I was ill with migraines, nausea, and fever, not knowing what affliction I had, I thought often of my grandmother and the strength she had to muster when she was weak from chemo and, towards the end, could not recognize her own family. My own minor brush with serious illness inspired me to run a marathon in her name and to benefit the fight against her illness, because I knew--if only for a moment--the kind of fear that serious illness can cause in a person. Being faced with one's mortality and not being able to defeat the body's will and limitation with determination is a powerful experience, one that I'm grateful I had and do not wish to face again any time soon. Perhaps that is why long-distance running is such a profound experience in human impermanence. It is one of the few practices in which the body speaks back to the mind and asserts itself through pain and fatigue. It seems fitting, then, to run a marathon in order to assist in defeating illness.

Tufts 10K for Women

Yesterday was an unusually warm day for New England--about 80 degrees--which translated to a hot running day for me and the 7,000 other women who joined me in running or walking the 6.2 mile circuit around Boston and Cambridge. A drastic difference from the cold rain of the previous year, I was thrilled to have sun and warm air and took off from the start a bit too zealous for the temperature. I made good time to the half but without shade (or the sunglasses that Henry and I had been searching for all morning), I tired out by mile 5 and had to push, push, push to the end, where I saw my adoring fans (Brian, Henry, Eve, and Sarah) cheering and urging me to hurry up and join them at the duck statues, bringing with me some of my entitled free refreshments from the race. What kept me running toward them? Thinking of the race in April that so many people have faith I can complete (and the free cookies at the finish). With you all in mind (and the free cookies), I picked up me feet and refused to walk.

My result was not the time I'd hoped for, but still an improvement over my previous year's time of 58 minutes. I finished the 10K in 53 minutes, coming in 688th overall and 234th in my age group. While these stats do bear some meaning, I have to say that the reason I've turned to running and love it so much is that it's only me out there, competing against my mind and the limitations of my body. Ultimately, I could care less about what place I finish because I just love to move, one foot in front of the other until I cross that line.

Because I'm also propelled, in part, by the music on my iPod, yesterday was a challenge after mile 4 because my little digital buddy went kaput, due to a 5-miler in the rain a few weeks before that didn't agree with her battery. I'd hoped she'd find the inspiration to keep going until the end, but just before the BU Bridge, she let me know that she has no soul and would not carry me any further. As if wagging her tongue at me before expiring, my iPod began to play my #1 running song (Cadillac Ranch--see my previous Top Ten Running Songs post) over and over and over and would not let me change to another song. So, little iPod, you are officially retired, put out to pasture on your docking station in the kitchen. And this Christmas, I hope Santa will bring me a new little buddy to join me throughout my training.

All in all, a challenging yet very fun day, which is why this is the only race I've done twice so far in my running "career." And I'll be back next year, too.

A Fabulous First Week

It's the end of my first week of fundraising, and all I can say is: "Wow!" Alright, that's not all I can say. I also can say, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart." You have stepped up to the plate and shown what supportive friends and generous contributors you are, helping me to reach $2500 in a week. Either I've associated myself with tremendous humanitarians or you don't want to see my credit card charged for $3000 if I can't raise that much to run. Either way, you leave me (almost) speechless.

A particular shout-out goes to the people who work at O'Reilly, who have shown amazing generosity. During a particularly hard week there, they have given donations to help out a person they don't even know. I am so grateful.

Today I returned from the Tufts 10K to see the latest donation made while I was running the streets of Boston. What a sweet thought--to know that someone was providing support for my race months away while I was pounding the pavement, thinking of all of you have given this week. More on the 10K tomorrow...

Childbirth is Harder

My toughest race ever was not running the marathon but running a 30K with many steep hills in 80 degrees. I struggled through that one, stopping to walk a lot and feeling like I might have to drop out. It was during that race that I first experienced the limits of my body and its refusal to comply with my mind, which wanted me to run, despite my fatigue. I finished, though, and was never in greater awe of the human body. I now compare all of my struggles--mental and physical--against that experience, including childbirth. Okay, childbirth was harder.

More From My Application

I would like to run because I believe I can do more than simply protect myself from cancer with self-exams and annual check-ups; I can help with fundraising to make a sincere contribution to a frightening disease. I am a woman who spends much of her time taking care of a young son and teaching at a small college, two aspects of my identity that often make me feel fairly insignificant. I also derive my identity from being a runner, and when I run, I feel somehow larger and capable of making a contribution to the greater scheme. When I run, I dream big, imagining the local races I could organize to benefit women's charities and the larger contribution I might make through my love of running. I want to run for DFMC because of this feeling, which takes me beyond the small stuff--my son's sippy cups and my students' homework. I want this added challenge for myself, but also for the ways it might benefit others.

Training

A lot of people have asked me if I've started training yet or how I'll schedule my training this winter. I've been running casually since my last marathon (between 3 and 5 miles at a time) just to stay in shape and have been sort of training to run the Tufts 10k this Monday, October 9th in Boston. My goal for that race is to run it in under 50 minutes, which would be about 9 minutes faster than last year.

For the Richmond marathon, I trained with my husband using the plan detailed in a very good book: The Non-Runner's Marathon Trainer. If you're considering running a marathon, I highly recommend this program, though I suffered from the common misconception that if this program will get me into shape, I'll sail through the marathon if I add another 6 weeks of doing 25 miles/week. The danger with this logic, Brian and I learned, is that one often overworks important muscles and joints and risks injury in the last stretch of training. Brian seriously damaged his knees, and I developed a strain injury in my hip socket. We both completed our marathon, but Brian's event was particularly painful.

My new regimen this time around is to shorten my training program to about 3 months. Luckily, as a member of the DFMC team of runners, I will benefit from some outstanding coaching with seasoned elite marathoners. That, combined with a steady supply of carbo loading and your encouragement should put me in good shape. While marathon training is grueling, I do look forward to the awesome number of calories I'll be consuming in the coming months. There's one definite perk of marathon running--you can eat anything you want.

What It's All About

I continue to be impressed and honored by the generosity of my donors. I am now 50% of the way to my required goal ($3000) and almost 25% of the way to my personal goal of $7500--all in under three days of fundraising. Most impressive is that this accomplishment is a result of individual giving, not corporate contributions. Cheers to you, my dear friends and loving humanitarians.

Today I heard a segment on NPR's show "On Point" about beautiful literary passages, and a particular sentence from Virgina Woolf nearly brought to me tears while I drove to work. It seems especially apt for me given this cause I have taken on:

Considering how common illness is, how tremendous the spiritual change that it brings, how astonishing, when the lights of health go down, the undiscovered countries that are then disclosed, what wastes and deserts of the soul a slight attack of influenza brings to light...it becomes strange indeed that illness has not taken its place with love, battle, and jealousy among the prime themes of literature. Novels, one would have thought, would have been devoted to influenza; epics poems to typhoid; odes to pneumonia, lyrics to toothache. But no; ... literature does its best to maintain that its concern is with the mind; that the body is a sheet of plain glass through which the soul looks straight and clear.

Thank You for Day 1 Giving...

I am overwhelmed by everyone's encouragement and support in the short time since I sent my email to ask for donations. I've collected nearly a third of the required amount to participate and 13% of my personal goal, all in under 24 hours. While I'm saddened that so many people have been directly affected by cancer, I'm so inspired and motivated by the memories and stories you've shared of loved ones lost to the disease.
Thanks go to Nan, a fellow recovering gym student and a remarkable donor, as well as to my aunt Jean and sister-in-law Beth for their generous giving.

They'll Get Me Where I Need to Go

Thank you so much to everyone who has responded with such generosity right off the bat. I'm touched to have such friends and supporters.

Speaking of support, your donations get me to the starting line, but my feet will get me to the finish. Here are my new running shoes, perfect for an overpronator, and my new toes, sporting my last pedicure :( before the race (no point in painting toes that will show the kind of wear that marathon training entails).

Thanks again to Cassie, Paul, Mike, and Michele, for their immediate generosity.