This morning I ran farther than I had ever run before. I ran about 14 miles, and though that's only a few tenths of a mile farther than I'd previously run, it was still an exciting accomplishment and the first of a series of such milestones. For the next few months, I'll be running farther than before almost every weekend, going beyond what's familiar and into a new set of possibilities. I believe, after my run today, that I can do this marathon. It will be hard, and I'm sure I'll face setbacks, but I have my confidence back. I have faith in myself. I feel solid.
I got up at 6:30 so I could be on the trail by 7:15 and get my miles in before meeting a friend for brunch at 11. I would never, never, have been willing to do that a few months ago or last year or really ever before. I am willing to do it now because I value so much what running gives me, and because I value this process so much. Every week I get a solid sense of accomplishment and pride that I had the discipline to see through another long run, and every week I get a few hours to myself in the sunshine, out in the world, away from work and worries. This morning, I got to see a bunny, some chipmunks, and some beautiful blue jays and butterflies as I ran. And I felt like a kid again.
More importantly, I feel like an athlete. I feel comfortable with the place that running has taken in my life. I feel good about getting up early on a Sunday to run fourteen miles. And, though my earlier self would have found this crazy, I feel perfectly balanced. I feel like everything that I sacrifice for this, my time, my money, my sleep, my comfort... I get it all back, plus so so so much more. I want to keep going because the more I put in, the more I get out of it. I feel healthy and strong and purposeful. I feel like I could be in a Nike ad. 16 more weeks until the Portland Marathon. I hope that I keep feeling like each of those weeks is a gift.
Wish me luck.
Running
Well, folks, it's official. I've been running for a year now. A year ago I ran my first ever road race, the Race for Justice. It's a charity 5K, and I did it with Sarah, who is ever delightful and inspiring. I had never run more than three miles before, and I was nervous about finishing. It's funny that, in only a year, running has become such a big part of my life. I never expected to like it so much, or that it would provide me with such a perfect solution to so many different problems: it's how I stay fit, how I maintain a good sleep schedule, how I socialize with many of my friends, how I manage my anxiety, how I relax and how I challenge myself.
I was telling a friend the other day that my constant internal monologue--my doubts, worries, to-do lists, cases and assorted nonsense going round and round and round in my head-- is only silent when I'm reading or when I'm running. I used to read to escape, to shut off my own mind and take a mental vacation for a while, and I still do. But now I can also stretch my legs in the sunshine, and fill my brain with the simplest, almost meditative silence. I can hear my breathing and my stride, and feel my muscles moving, and that's enough. That's the whole world for an hour or so. It is heaven.
I hope everyone is having a lovely Saturday.
I was telling a friend the other day that my constant internal monologue--my doubts, worries, to-do lists, cases and assorted nonsense going round and round and round in my head-- is only silent when I'm reading or when I'm running. I used to read to escape, to shut off my own mind and take a mental vacation for a while, and I still do. But now I can also stretch my legs in the sunshine, and fill my brain with the simplest, almost meditative silence. I can hear my breathing and my stride, and feel my muscles moving, and that's enough. That's the whole world for an hour or so. It is heaven.
I hope everyone is having a lovely Saturday.
Gay Marriage in New York! Yay!
http://powerwall.msnbc.msn.com/politics/cuomo-signs-ny-gay-marriage-bill-1693091.story
Good news in New York.
Though, as always, I would like to point out that it's not "gay marriage", it's just marriage. Just marriage. Like my marriage is. Or yours. Just two people muddling along trying to do the best they can for each other. And everyone gets to give it a shot. Why is that so hard?
Good news in New York.
Though, as always, I would like to point out that it's not "gay marriage", it's just marriage. Just marriage. Like my marriage is. Or yours. Just two people muddling along trying to do the best they can for each other. And everyone gets to give it a shot. Why is that so hard?
4am
One of the nice things about marriage is that you always have someone around to take you to the airport at 4am if you have an early flight. On the other hand, one of the downsides of marriage is that sometimes you have to take your spouse to the airport at 4am. FOUR A. M.
UGH.
UGH.
Wisdom
As usual, my friend Sarah has found a way to inspire me. I was reading this post of hers about how she has realized that she compares herself constantly to other people and finds it depressing and demoralizing, and has realized that what she ought to be doing is comparing herself to herself: appreciating her own inspiring and transformative experiences, recognizing her progress and accomplishments and generally turning her focus inward. Her post and the resources she linked to really spoke to me, in large part because Sarah and I are so similar, and in large part because another friend asked me recently why the heck I'm so hard on myself and I didn't have a good answer. Sarah is doing the kind of introspection and consideration that I was raised on and that I have let go of in recent years. It is a reminder of how to be a better me and live the values I was taught as a kid. (Thanks, mom!)
I have spent many many (many many!) fruitless hours comparing myself to others, looking at my friends and seeing their successes or their attributes as standards I can't ever reach. And that is a huge waste of time. Afterall, no one is better at being me than me.
I'm not sure how well I'll be able to practice what I preach, at least at first, but I resolve to try.
I have spent many many (many many!) fruitless hours comparing myself to others, looking at my friends and seeing their successes or their attributes as standards I can't ever reach. And that is a huge waste of time. Afterall, no one is better at being me than me.
I'm not sure how well I'll be able to practice what I preach, at least at first, but I resolve to try.
Meal Plan
The Husband did the meal plan this week because I've been away at a conference and he is helpful like that. As a result, we are going to be eating a lot of his favorites.
Husband Soup- otherwise known as Thai Coconut Curry Soup
Stroganoff
Curried Chicken Salad Sammiches
Kielbasa and Brussels Sprouts
Black Bean and Quinoa Burritos
For the Game of Thrones finale tonight, I am doing a simple quinoa salad with artichokes, feta, red onions, cucumbers and cherry tomatoes in a lemon vinaigrette. I'll also put out some wine, snack mix, and fruit. I might eat the whole thing. Running makes me hungry!
Husband Soup- otherwise known as Thai Coconut Curry Soup
Stroganoff
Curried Chicken Salad Sammiches
Kielbasa and Brussels Sprouts
Black Bean and Quinoa Burritos
For the Game of Thrones finale tonight, I am doing a simple quinoa salad with artichokes, feta, red onions, cucumbers and cherry tomatoes in a lemon vinaigrette. I'll also put out some wine, snack mix, and fruit. I might eat the whole thing. Running makes me hungry!
Father's Day
I just got off the phone with my dad, who is driving to Boulder to see my sister. I miss him terribly. It is hard to be the one that is so far away, sometimes, and this is definitely one of those times. I miss spending father's day with him. I am incredibly lucky in my dad. Incredibly lucky. And, though I only got to know one of my grandfathers, I was also profoundly lucky to have him in my life as well.
Our society is full of really really stupid information about what women are supposed to do and look like and want, and it is equally full of really really stupid information about what men are supposed to be. I can never thank my father enough for quietly and consistently demonstrating that all that is so much bullshit. My dad is strong not because he yells (I've seen him raise his voice maybe twice in my entire life) but because he listens. Because he stands up for the things his family needs and does what is necessary to make sure we have those things, no matter what it takes. I have never once, in my entire life, doubted that my dad was in my corner or wondered whether he'd support me. Never once.
My dad has always, always, showed up. He got up at 4am to drive me to swim practice. He left work early to see me compete. He stayed up late to pick me up after rehearsals and to very very patiently try to help me with my physics homework. He listened to me tearfully complain about boys and all the other tiny crises of my teen years without ever making me feel silly or saying "I told you so".
My dad is the anchor of our family. My mother and sister and I, among our many enviable qualities, share a tendency to be a bit high-strung, to fret, to overanalyze, to become overemotional. My dad balances us with an almost magical calming ability, and doesn't seem to mind being the eye of our little storm. I can remember, when I was learning to drive, a time I stalled out the Volkswagen in the middle of a big intersection (Academy Boulevard and Union, maybe?) and I couldn't get it in gear again. I was blocking traffic and people were honking and I was starting to cry and freak out, insisting that I couldn't do it. But all that went away as my dad quietly and calmly walked me through the steps, reminded me that I did know what to do, starting with turning off the car, then pushing in the clutch, turning the ignition, putting it in first, letting the clutch out slowly and pushing the gas in slowly, as though we were all alone in a parking lot and I had all the time in the world.
And even now, I call him up sometimes when I am on the verge of tears and there's too much noise and I don't know what to do, and he quietly and calmly leads me through the basic steps, reminds me that I know what to do, and sends me on my way.
Thank you, daddy.
Our society is full of really really stupid information about what women are supposed to do and look like and want, and it is equally full of really really stupid information about what men are supposed to be. I can never thank my father enough for quietly and consistently demonstrating that all that is so much bullshit. My dad is strong not because he yells (I've seen him raise his voice maybe twice in my entire life) but because he listens. Because he stands up for the things his family needs and does what is necessary to make sure we have those things, no matter what it takes. I have never once, in my entire life, doubted that my dad was in my corner or wondered whether he'd support me. Never once.
My dad has always, always, showed up. He got up at 4am to drive me to swim practice. He left work early to see me compete. He stayed up late to pick me up after rehearsals and to very very patiently try to help me with my physics homework. He listened to me tearfully complain about boys and all the other tiny crises of my teen years without ever making me feel silly or saying "I told you so".
My dad is the anchor of our family. My mother and sister and I, among our many enviable qualities, share a tendency to be a bit high-strung, to fret, to overanalyze, to become overemotional. My dad balances us with an almost magical calming ability, and doesn't seem to mind being the eye of our little storm. I can remember, when I was learning to drive, a time I stalled out the Volkswagen in the middle of a big intersection (Academy Boulevard and Union, maybe?) and I couldn't get it in gear again. I was blocking traffic and people were honking and I was starting to cry and freak out, insisting that I couldn't do it. But all that went away as my dad quietly and calmly walked me through the steps, reminded me that I did know what to do, starting with turning off the car, then pushing in the clutch, turning the ignition, putting it in first, letting the clutch out slowly and pushing the gas in slowly, as though we were all alone in a parking lot and I had all the time in the world.
And even now, I call him up sometimes when I am on the verge of tears and there's too much noise and I don't know what to do, and he quietly and calmly leads me through the basic steps, reminds me that I know what to do, and sends me on my way.
Thank you, daddy.
Marathon Training
I haven't been blogging much recently, as this summer has been kicking my ass. There is simply too much to do and there are too many things to think about. My to-do lists are procreating in my drawers, it seems, spawning more and more and more things that I need to attend to, and leaving me wondering how another month has snuck by so quickly. I am just trying to keep my head down, keep going, and keep crossing things off my list(s).
One of the things that has been happening is marathon training. I have been doing it, sometimes diligently, sometimes not. This week has been not so great. Last weekend was my first long run with the Team Oregon Marathon Training clinic, and it was a good choice. It is really nice to run with a group. It feels safer, it requires less thinking and planning, and I came away from the run without that horrible hit-by-a-bus feeling that I often get after a long run. I put in some good miles on Monday and Tuesday, but then Wednesday I twinged a muscle at the gym and took a few days off running. I also went to a conference in Bend, so I'm sleep-deprived and have that overall sense of unease that I get when I haven't slept in my own bed or run my own schedule for a few days. I will be running thirteen miles this afternoon, and I don't anticipate it will go well. But, I'm doing it.
Unfortunately, running has lost a little of its sparkle for me in recent weeks, and I feel a bit like I'm just going through the motions. I need a run where I feel powerful, where I hit that perfect blend of strength and exhaustion and my brain pumps out endorphins mile after mile until I fall in a sweaty heap to stretch, grinning like an idiot. I hope I get a run like that soon.
The marathon is in three and half months, give or take, and I'm essentially running half-marathons as my long runs these days. Soon I'll be in uncharted territory, each week running a distance that is longer than I've ever done before. Next week is fourteen miles. Then fifteen, then sixteen, then this crazy period where I alternate between sixteen and twenty mile runs every Saturday until the race, or until I come to my senses.
I have to charge my ipod, lace up my shoes and get out in the world. Wish me luck.
One of the things that has been happening is marathon training. I have been doing it, sometimes diligently, sometimes not. This week has been not so great. Last weekend was my first long run with the Team Oregon Marathon Training clinic, and it was a good choice. It is really nice to run with a group. It feels safer, it requires less thinking and planning, and I came away from the run without that horrible hit-by-a-bus feeling that I often get after a long run. I put in some good miles on Monday and Tuesday, but then Wednesday I twinged a muscle at the gym and took a few days off running. I also went to a conference in Bend, so I'm sleep-deprived and have that overall sense of unease that I get when I haven't slept in my own bed or run my own schedule for a few days. I will be running thirteen miles this afternoon, and I don't anticipate it will go well. But, I'm doing it.
Unfortunately, running has lost a little of its sparkle for me in recent weeks, and I feel a bit like I'm just going through the motions. I need a run where I feel powerful, where I hit that perfect blend of strength and exhaustion and my brain pumps out endorphins mile after mile until I fall in a sweaty heap to stretch, grinning like an idiot. I hope I get a run like that soon.
The marathon is in three and half months, give or take, and I'm essentially running half-marathons as my long runs these days. Soon I'll be in uncharted territory, each week running a distance that is longer than I've ever done before. Next week is fourteen miles. Then fifteen, then sixteen, then this crazy period where I alternate between sixteen and twenty mile runs every Saturday until the race, or until I come to my senses.
I have to charge my ipod, lace up my shoes and get out in the world. Wish me luck.
Cookies!
I just made two batches of oatmeal raisin cookies, one with this recipe, and one using shortening instead. I will conduct a thorough taste test and let you know which is better.
In other news,we've had wicked car trouble and I'm going out of town for the second half of this week for a work thing, so there's no formal meal plan to post and things are a bit nuts around here. I have resolved to blog more when I return.
Cheers!
In other news,we've had wicked car trouble and I'm going out of town for the second half of this week for a work thing, so there's no formal meal plan to post and things are a bit nuts around here. I have resolved to blog more when I return.
Cheers!
Meal Plan
We have lots of things on the meal plan this week that are left over from previous meal plans that we didn't end up making because we had so many leftovers!
BBQ Sliders
Falafel Wraps
Pizza
Strawberry Spinach Salad
BBQ Sliders
Falafel Wraps
Pizza
Strawberry Spinach Salad
Training Widget
Race Schedule Widget