A New Day

A new day.  A new blog, with a new address.

Maybe a new me?

Well, maybe not a new me, but a new frame of mind, and a new attitude.

I've not blogged in a couple of months and as I last wrote, life was swirling about in crazy ups and downs that were frankly making me a little airsick.  I think I'm in a better place now--I certainly feel better.

I went ahead a imported my previous blog posts from Running Without Fear because as I read through them, there was some truth there.  And to delete them was to say they hadn't happened, and I didn't feel very good about that.

So, I think an update is in order.

In my weight loss journey, I was living from daily weigh in to daily weigh in, from calorie to calorie.  I was trying to eat the absolute least amount possible to not send my body into starvation mode, but wring out every last tenth of a pound on the scale.  Predictably, I often didn't eat (or drink) enough and my run recovery was compromised on a pretty regular basis.  But no matter, if I just pushed harder, worked harder I could push through and keep posting these mercurial gains time and distance.

So not healthy. 

I didn't really run in December.  And my eating went straight indulgent binge from Thanksgiving until New Years.  I gained back 14 lbs. 

In 6 weeks.

Throw in equal parts clinical depression, household stress, and that whole, "What am I going to be when I grow up?" question that unexpectedly arose from a colossal failure...and well...things weren't pretty.

I wish I knew what pulled me out of my funk.  I'd bottle it and save it for later.

But, things are different now.

First, I've gotten back into running regularly now, and life is always just a little bit better when I'm putting in some miles each week.  I went ahead and set a mileage goal for the year.  Following advice from an excellent e-friend and mentor, Megan, I set a fairly conservative goal.  I'm hoping I blow it out of the water completely, but even if I barely eke it out, I like the feeling of commitment and purpose.  (I'm not going to lie, I also like watching the little updates in RunKeeper as I log my miles. #rungeek)  Having a long term goal like that really fits in with my whole shift in thinking.

I've changed my calorie goals to consistently lose about 2 lbs a week, and making sure I eat enough to cover my exercise expenditures as well.  I no longer weigh myself daily--now I weigh in weekly.  This means I can eat and drink properly to fuel and recover from my runs.  This puts my weight loss goal almost a year away, but frankly I'm good with that.

Race-wise, I don't see how I can possibly be ready for the RnR Dallas Half in March that I've signed myself up for last year.  But I'm going to keep at my training steadily and true--resting when I need to, and pushing myself safely.  If I'm ready, I'll run (or more likely run/walk/run).  If not, I really don't care.

Today I ran 4 miles for Meg Menzies and #megsmiles.  They were a slow 4 miles.  But I realized, "That's ok."  Meg was training for Boston, and I'll likely never be fast enough to qualify, but that's ok.  I didn't know Meg, but she was just like so many of us runners.  Likely she represented the best of most of us.  So today, my miles counted.  They counted for her, her family, and for every runner out there that feels the tremendously tragic loss of her death.

And in that vein, I have a new blog, with a new title and web address.

Clydesdale Runner.

Because that's who I am.  I am big.  And I am slow.

But I am a runner.

And for the first time in a very long time, I'm content to be who I am.

It's a new day.

Peaceful

If only every day, every run could be so magnificently refreshing. 

Here in Texas, the summer heat finally broke with a day of rainstorms that beat back the dogs of summer on Friday.  This morning the temperature is 64* at 0440 when I roll out of bed and tug on my running shoes.

When I step out the front door, the cool northern breeze nearly takes my breath away as it tickles its cool tendrils against my skin.  An unexpected prickle of goosebumps flickers across my body.  I greedily suck in a deep breath of the marvelously cool air and set off down the street.

The morning is quiet save for the occasional breeze creaking the summer-dried cedar fences.  I pass and startle a possum who in turn gives me a baleful glare as it scurries away from the edge of the road.  As I turn onto the sidewalk of the more major cross street, a car approaches and has the courtesy to move to the inside lane as it passes.  And then I am alone with my run again.

Glancing back over my shoulder I spy Orion in the southwestern morning sky, and I'm sure he gives me a curt nod of approval.  As my patron constellation of unending endurance and perseverance as he chases his quarry relentlessly across the sky, I often look to the heavens for him.  During the winter months, he flashes by in the late evenings.  But during the summer months I only greet him when I rise before the sun itself to run.

Knee-high heads of grass gone to seed line the sidewalk on both sides, neglected and uncut, as I stride my way up the gradual hill that rises before me.  I skim the edges of the grass tunnel that opens in front of me, letting the tips brush lightly against my outside leg as I slip by, granted safe passage within the path the sentinel grass heads stand watch over.  I smile to myself because I know that I will be passing this way again soon and then it will be a gradual downhill and I'll be pushing the pace through to the end. 

A stray dog pants his hello as he marks time with me for a few strides before he jovially returns to his resting spot beneath a gnarled cedar tree, his pale blue eyes luminescent against his brown fur.  I'll see him again soon too.

Even the two sets of high voltage transmission lines I travel under are eerily silent this morning.  Normally in the heat they buzz and arc, chattering amongst themselves and making the hair on my legs and arms stand on end with their disapproving comments.

As I pass from the residential areas and approach a major city intersection with gas stations and strip malls, the first hints of the impending morning become apparent.  Delivery trucks idle roughly outside the convenience stores, laden with their bottled diabetes, waiting to refuel the mother-ship.  In & Out, Kwik Stop, Run In--they all have such purposeful names.

RunKeeper whispers in my ear, and I abruptly turn heel and head back towards home at the 2 mile mark.  I'm 100 feet short of the intersection, and I wonder why I didn't just travel to the junction before turning back.

I invite Mr. Blue-eyed-Brown Dog to breakfast as I pass by again.  And he smiles his toothy smile agreeably, but returns to wait patiently under his tree to witness what else will pass by his particular part of the universe.  Maybe he's waiting for a better offer.

I concentrate on keeping my cadence up on the downhills instead of falling into ragged lope.  I'm sure my pace is greatly increased with this strategy, but my perceived effort isn't any more than running uphill the other direction.  The downhills cease to be a chance to recover, and instead present as opportunities to bank pace.  Indeed looking at my splits, this is my fastest split by over :40 secs/mile.  I'm slowly learning to use my body to attack the run, rather than merely holding on for dear life, hoping to survive.  More than banking seconds toward my pace, I'm banking experience for my runs and races I've yet to attempt.

As I turn up the steeper hill towards my home, I glance at RunKeeper, and try to determine if I'll have to skirt the cul-de-sac halfway up the street to make sure I'll make 4 miles by my driveway.  The remaining distance before me seems much shorter than the distance left according to RunKeeper. I'm surprised to see that I turn over 4.01 miles as I coast into my driveway.  This disparity only highlights the fear and trepidation that--even now--holds me hostage.  The corner to my driveway is not far by sight.  0.15 miles remaining feels much farther.  But they are the same.  The difference is merely gazing at the goal rather than the work left to get there.

Inside again, I sit on the ottoman at the end of our bed, the fan blowing cool air over me.  I listen to the rhythmic breathing of my 7 year old daughter who came in last night in the fog of a nightmare.  Her insouciant breathing speaks to the safety she feels in our bed.  And I'm glad for that.

In fact, in this moment I'm...grateful.

It's hard for me to be content, sometimes, when I let the world dictate my demeanor.  But for now--this fleeting instant--I am peaceful.

And it all started with a run on a cool Autumn morning.

Here's the song that Pandora chose for me to contemplate to at the end of my run.  One of my (if not my absolute) favorite artists--Gregory Alan Isakov.  Hope you enjoy.

Simplicity

Photo Source

Two days ago I crashed awake at 4:30, shaken to the core by a truly awful and vivid dream.  So much so, I found myself reconsidering my choice of profession here in real life.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to work a job that didn't come with quite so high stakes.  A job where a simple mistake could quite realistically result in someone losing their life can wear heavily at times.

This uncertainty 2 days before I have an interview (today!!) for a graduate school program that will cost a significant amount of money, will consume a significant amount of my life, and will require significant sacrifice from those in my life.  It takes me much further down the path I am currently on, and the responsibility for others' lives will only be greater.  However, the result of successfully completing the program could be life altering for my family and me.

Faced with the enormity of it all, I knew that I wouldn't fall back to sleep.

I also knew that I would likely sit there and wallow in the stark negativity of my dream.

So I got up, got dressed and headed to the gym for a run.

By all accounts it wasn't a particularly enjoyable run.  I had a stitch in my side the whole way, regardless of how much I focused on form and breathing.  I couldn't easily find my headphones without waking anyone up before I left, so I was music-less.  There was a loud talker/laugher chattering away a few rows behind me during my entire run, with just the perfect grating edge in her too loud voice.  It took my legs a while to loosen up, and my muscles were not fans of having no breakfast before being required to perform.

Still.

That terrible run, was so, so much better than the alternative.

I crave the simplicity and clarity that running brings.  Life is as simple as the next mile, the next interval, the next step.  I covet the perspective a workout grants.  It was 3 miles of chances to evaluate myself, 30 minutes of time to recenter myself.  It was a welcome pause before I had to deal with whatever life was thrusting upon me.

It was an escape.

My day didn't get much better--in fact it only got worse.  A truly bad day regardless of the timing or impending potentially life altering events.

Clearly running is not a cure all.

But in the moment, mid-stride, I am free.

And things are so very simple.

Cleaning House

It's been no secret to those who read here that lately I've had a hard time plugging into the running blog community. It's something I hadn't experienced before when I had a blog about nursing. In fact, my experience has gotten worse and worse, until this morning when it all culminated in me blurting out in a comment that all this feels a lot like junior high all over again. And junior high was an awful time for me.

Within the space of making that comment it dawned on me that it doesn't have to be that way. It's a realization that could have been life-changing back in junior high.

So I came back to my own blog and edited my reading list. Several blogs that pretty much made me feel awful about running, myself, and the running blog community in general are now gone. Despite the fact they are immensely popular and apparently have a large, loyal following, in my opinion they just don't offer their readership much of anything of substance in the department of community.  And I usually left their sites feeling worse about myself than before I clicked in.

The best part of the whole thing is I'll quite likely never run into them around the blogger community because I haven't seen many of them take the time to interact with anyone outside of their own blogs.

It sounds so simple. And really it is.

Deceptively so.

But what I will tell you is that while trying to get noticed by the uber-popular queens of run-blogging, I've quietly run across some pretty amazing people.

For example, Katie from Jam Yesterday has been tremendously supportive. I really enjoy her blog because she is such a sweetly humble person that's genuinely wide-eyed with delight as she shatters goal after fitness goal that she's set for herself.

Or Megan at The Lyons' Share Wellness who keeps an insane schedule but still takes joy in--and makes time for--helping others reach their healthy potential while quietly and steadily practicing just what she preaches.

How about Jill from Run With Jill? If there's anyone out there entitled to an elitist air, it would be this amazing athlete. She may actually be some sort of intergalactic alien judging by her exploits as an athlete, but I have yet to meet anyone more down to earth. She is an absolute inspiration as an athlete and as a person.

If you're looking for blogs of substance written by genuine people, you can't go wrong with these, and many others from my reading list there in the sidebar.

If you're looking for a more trendy, superficial experience, you won't find their links here any longer.

Registered

I registered for the Dallas Rock 'N' Roll Half next March. Hoping this gives me enough time to adequately prepare.

I've set a tentative goal of 2:20 which I think is realistic based on where I am now. I would love to finish under 2 hours, but that may be a tad ambitious for my first half. We'll see where the training leads me.

Speaking of training, would be glad for training plan recommendations. I know of a few out there, but would like to hear your first-hand experiences.

Here we go...

UPS Brought My Wings Today

Maybe it's cliche.  Maybe it's overused.  Maybe its metaphoric imagery has long since faded.

But these shoes are my wings.

They've set me free from who I was.

Creating in me who I will become.

Brooks Adrenaline GTS 13

My only regret is that I'm headed back to work and getting a run in them will be a scheduling coup.

Measurable Returns

“When health is absent, wisdom cannot reveal itself, art cannot manifest, strength cannot fight, wealth becomes useless, and intelligence cannot be applied.” ― Herophilus 

I went in to my primary care physician's office for a check up a few days ago.  I knew that my weight loss could only be a good thing, but I didn't expect to see changes in other measurable ways as well.

For example the last time I was in, my blood pressure was 132/84--which isn't a horrible number, but not exactly great either.  This time it was 114/70--a number I'm actually a bit proud of considering the stress of my job, parenting, and upcoming life changes.

Last time (although I don't remember specific break down numbers) my total cholesterol was in the 190ish range.  Again, not scary, but not fabulous either.  This time my total cholesterol was 139, the Mayo Clinic says that less than 200 is desirable.  My HDL is 49 which is in the "better" category (>60 is desirable).  My LDL is 79, <100 is ideal for someone at risk for heart disease, <70 is ideal for someone at high risk for heart disease.  My triglycerides were 57, <150 is desirable.

It's nice to see numerical data to back up what I feel.  Because overall I feel much healthier than I did just 5 weeks ago when I started counting/restricting calories and running again.

So if you're just getting started, or looking for a reason to get started, the above data shows that even 35 days of healthy eating and exercise can seriously and measurably impact your health.

There is still room for improvement.  I'd like to lose at least another 30 lbs, and possibly more.  I'd like to see my HDL >60.  I'd like to see my LDL <70 because being adopted I know very little about my familial risk factors.  There is a chance that I'm at a high genetic risk for heart disease.

Regardless, the sum of those improving numbers I hope equals added years of healthy living with my wife and kids.  It also helps ensure that I don't become one of the statistics at work with an MI and bypass surgery in my 40s.  Because take it from me--I see it every day at work--heart surgery sucks. 

What health benefits have you realized from running and getting fit?

GingerRunner's Squamish 50 Video

This video is too epic not to share.

Ethan (THE GingerRunner) put together this video documenting his Squamish 50 miler race.  I highly doubt this guy even realizes I exist, much less know how much inspiration he brings me.



Who's your source of inspiration?