Decade 3.0

Describe your life at the time of your 30th birthday…

10-year-old E:

At the age of 30, I’ll be all grown up. I’ll have a husband and two kids, a boy and a girl (the girl will be named Samantha), and like ten cats. I will work as a veterinarian — or maybe a pediatrician — and we’ll have a house in New York City and take the subway everywhere. I will also take ballet lessons and watch a lot of Broadway shows.

I will have watched Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” concert without my mom fast-forwarding through the bad parts. No one will have ever found out about that homework page I didn’t finish in first grade and threw out instead of getting my mom to sign it. I’ll have my own Prodigy account and Aly and I will send each other hundreds of emails each month and IM everyday. And I hope my husband can cook, because I can’t.

15-year-old E:

Marriage? No way! Kids? Hell no! Everything society expects me to do, I’m gonna do the opposite.

18-year-old E:

My accounting professor says some accounting majors start at $80,000 right out of college! $80,000!!! Who needs a husband when I can make a ton of money working on my own. I’m gonna have the coolest apartment in New York City and I’ll drive a baby blue Mustang convertible. I know it’s hard to park in NYC, but I’ll be making so much that I’ll just pay for my own spot.

My English teacher keeps saying I’m gonna end up an English teacher or writer. Pssssh! They don’t make any money. Just wait and see.

I definitely won’t have any kids. They are such a pain in the ass. Constantly crying and moaning for things.

21-year-old E:

If I work my arse off, I can make partner in ten years.

Oh, and I met someone; I think he could be the one. [blush] He is so cute with an adorable smirk and that just got out of bed hairstyle that really takes him 20 minutes to perfect. Oh, and he’s British. He sounds just like Hugh Grant. Actually he kind looks and acts like him too. They both have narrow faces, stretchy skin and are kind of awkward.

Where would we live? I don’t know. I would love to live in London, but he loves NY. Maybe well have a house in both places. Did I tell you how cute he is? Let me show you a photo!

23-year-old E:

If I am still working as an auditor when I am 30, please shoot me.

Now, go away it’s busy season and I need to add a 2,546th column to my spreadsheet and decide between a kosher burger and a bologna sandwich for dinner.

I’m serious. Bugger off!

25-year-old E:

Published. The next Sophie Kinsella. No, no! Bill Bryson. If I work as a travel writer I could get paid to travel. How cool would that be? I could give up having an apt, and just live out of my backpack. I’d be one with the earth, bartering the clothes I sew on long train rides to pass the time for food and travel tours. I could find a land I adore and build roots there as an animal activist or offer accounting advice for third-world communities.

Whatever I do, I WILL publish a book by the time I am 30. I will HATE myself if I dont.

The boy? Eh, things with the boy aren’t too great right now.

29-year-old E:

Where will I be when I’m 30?

Well, I am a writer, but not yet a published author. However, I don’t hate myself. I work in NYC but have lost the desire to leave my backyard in the suburbs. One cat, not ten. No idea how to sew clothes, or barter for that matter; I can’t even use eBay.

I run half marathon(s), can put my legs behind my head in yoga class and ride black diamond trails on my snowboard. I drove across the US and walked across England. I haven’t been to a dance class in years, I rarely indulge in broadway shows and I’ve jumped out of a plane 25 times. I’ve learned to cook — and bake — and I work in an industry that would make 10-year-old-“I only eat foods that come covered in ketchup or tomato sauce” E wrinkle her nose. I’m obsessed with cheese. I’ve see Madonna in concert four times — but have still not watched her “Like a Virgin” tour.

I’ve fallen in love, and back out again. I’ve tested my morals, and been deceived and trampled on. I fight for what I want but I never ignore my intuition. I have surrounded myself with supportive girlfriends who constantly inspire me to achieve more. My family has stood by throughout 29 years of irrational decisions and picked me up when Ive fallen. My friends and family tolerate and love me; I will forever feel indebted to them. I’m single. I’m fulfilled. But I still wonder about my Hugh Grant.

I put way too much pressure on myself but love myself too much to change. I am a control freak who gave up control; everything I’ve experienced in my life was at some point unexpected. And I am absolutely loving the ride.

Oh, and I DO send Aly hundreds of emails a month, and we iMessage almost everyday.

Happy 30th Birthday to me! In true tradition, my girls honored my big day with a few of our favorite things… cheese, cured meats, pesto, bruschetta, crackers, lime tostitos, cava, wine, vodka, Reese PB cupcakes and a trip to my favorite restaurant for mojitos and empanadas. Couldn’t have been more perfect… and the celebration will continue next month when we all head to CANCUUUUUN!

I am excited for this new decade and feel confident that there are many experiences and lessons waiting to help me grow.

Happy Birthday to me!

K and I pre pig-out!

“So I sold my dog and bought a snowboard.”

Those words actually came out of my buddy’s mouth yesterday. It kinda sums up the intensity he brings to the mountain. The comment might have shocked me, but the guy had already tricked me into riding my first real Black Diamond trail.

Yeah, seriously, he tricked me. Amid his pre-ride coaching I promised to give a Black Diamond a go before the end of the day but requested a slow start.

“Let’s start on an easy one. Ok? An intermediate slope?!”

“Sure, let’s go this way.” As he disappeared over a hill. Ummm, not an easy one!!!

But I have to give the guy lots o’ credit. If I had known I was riding it, I probably would have let my nerves get the most of me. High-five Gross-man for the manipulation. Well respected. It made me want to go back for more. So I did… and I ROCKED IT!

Look! See? Me rockin’ out:

I rocked it one and half times… one and a half times before I ate it… wiped out on my booty…

and kept on sliding…

and tried to ride out the momentum and get up mid-slide…

annnnnd… sorry, I dont have anymore screenshots to show the next slick move. But let’s say as my cameraman flew past me, I continued to gain speed, and when trying to pop back up into a standing position I caught the front edge of my trusty Troop and dove chest-first downhill into the hard-packed snow ahead of me. Since my hands decided to sit this one out, my full weight landed on my right rib cage, creating a sweet crunching sound… and knocking every molecule of air out of me. (Does air travel in molecules? I need a scientist to weigh in on this one.)

If I could get the video plug-in on WordPress to work, I’d air Gross-man’s monologue about my disappearance — its entertaining. But alas, too difficult for my half-conscious mind.

Currently my body is demanding a state of immobility out of fear of moving through a position that is going to trigger excruciating pain to rocket through my nerves and make my stomach nauseous. Not fun! The Stratton first aid clinic thinks I’ll be a-ok if I lay off the moving around and lay on the ice. But I think Im gonna get a second opinion from an x-ray machine.

This really dampens my half-marathon training, but as crazy as it makes me sound, it was so worth it. SUCH A RUSH!

I dance on my snowboard when I’m chuffed with my runs!

Thanks for the runs and the fun camera work Gross-man.

Sidenote: I had bruised ribs last time I rode Stratton Mtn with my ladies. And that was a dancin’-good time also!

Anyone have any advice for possibly cracked ribs?? 

How to find a training buddy

Many runners like to run on their own; while many like to have a friend or partner at their side. Running with someone is beneficial in maintaining motivation and staying on track. For example,

1. it will push you to keep going when you are feeling exhausted… or when your ankle feels broken or you develop a stitch in your side that feels like a stab wound, and
2. having someone to chat to will distract you from exhaustion… and sensations that resemble a broken ankle or a stab wound in your side.

The most difficult part of your training might be convincing said friend/partner to sign up for a half-marathon that you have registered for. Here is some advice for that:

• After you run 3.6 miles, head to an awesome pizza bar to continue socializing. Each order a pizza and a pint of beer. Continue socializing. Order a second round of beers. Wait till the grease and alcohol drowns running endorphins. Suggest friend run same half-marathon as yourself.

Voila! You have a training buddy! 

With that said, I am back on the training game. I’ve signed up for the More Magazine + Fitness Women’s Half Marathon in Central Park this April. And, using the cunning advice above, my TNT running buddy will be running it with me. YAY INES! 

BACK TO TUESDAY NIGHT TRAINING Bs&Gs!

Had so much fun the first time, I'm doing it again! (Also proof that I checked in at the TNT booth at the Nike race.)

I will not be running this for charity. Without a doubt, I will do that again, but this one is just for me.

Sooo stay tuned… and watch this page for more fun training updates.

Cheese, races and grandma!

Wow!!! It’s been more than two months since I last posted. WTF? How inconsiderate of me. Sorry blog.

The first week of November I attended a press trip to Wisconsin to tour the Dairyland’s famous creameries. After three days of eating more cheese than I thought my body could handle, I received an early morning phonecall from a sad sad voice.

It was mom. My grandma had passed away. The week prior she had been back in the hospital with pneumonia and a broken arm. I had visited her on a Saturday afternoon.

“Ooooh hiiii!” She laughed when I walked in as if she had been secretly expecting me. I am not sure she knew who I was but she was glad to see someone familiar and have some company.

She told me some borderline coherent stories, most of which included the name “George” (my grandpa) and she hollered at the moaning woman she was stuck sharing a room with: “Ohhhh shut up! What are you complaining about?”

Then to me: “What is HER problem?”

I rubbed her head till she started to doze. When I stopped she perked up again and asked me if I was leaving. I couldn’t make out the words but the disappointment was clear.

I told her I was “going to check on grandpa… George.”

She giggled with her eyes closed and asked what he was doing and what he was going to eat for dinner since she couldn’t make him anything. I promised I’d bring him something delicious to eat. (We had Olive Garden that night, his favorite.)

“Ok. You better go then.” Thats grandma; always putting someone else first.

“I love you grandma!”

“Oooooh ha, I love you too!” And when she squeezed my hand, I knew it was the last time I was going to see her. Just for a flash; I could sense that this was it…

… so I gave her a kiss and the biggest smile I could conjure up while sucking in the tears.

A few weeks later we celebrated her life with a wake full of photos, stories and smiles. She was not only one of the happiest persons that I knew, but she had spread her infectious positivity everywhere she went and with everyone she met.

At some point in the mourning process it occurred to me, ‘this was the first time I had lost someone close to me.’

At the ripe age of 29, I’m pretty damn lucky to make this claim. At the same time, it was unfamiliar territory.

I didn’t feel like blogging. I didn’t feel like advertising it on Facebook. I didn’t feel like telling people and hearing condolences. I just wanted to sit with it, digest it and accept it.

So I did.

Every time Ive sat down to type since, I didnt know where to start. I couldnt write about anything until I wrote about her… and I didn’t know what to say.

Two days ago my friend told me his grandma died. My grief popped its ugly head but this time it left me smiling. I miss her… especially at the holidays… but she lived with a smile so I better too.

There’s been a lot else going on as well. Following Wisconsin I took off on a couple more business trips, including a second landing in San Francisco which only heightened my desire to live there. I had the chance to wander around Union Sq and reminisce about my run. Ahhhhh. Remember that? Did I mention I ran a half marathon in San Fran?

$60 of cheese I brought home from the Madison Farmers Market — the largest producer market in the country.

I’ve kept up the running. Didn’t even stop for that freak blizzard/storm that hit the tri-state area in October. Actually, instead of staying warm/dry, Azzy, Kenny and I ran/climbed/jumped our way through the Men’s Health Urbanathlon — a military-style obstacle course with an urban/city-twist. You know, like climbing over taxi cabs and MTA buses, army crawling under chain link fences and jumping traffic cones.

The course was 9.something miles with 8 obstacles, two of which were running staircases at Arthur Ashe Stadium and Citifield. We split the bee-otch up and relayed it, each taking on a 3ish-mile section.

It was awesome.

It was HARD.

When we saw the course map, I begged for the section that included monkey bars… I don’t want toot my own horn, but I kinda rocked the monkey bars as a kid. All good right?! That section also included military hurdles. Those mothereffers were like 5-foot-something high. Thank god some Greg T (Z100) lookalike showed up and let me step on his back. Otherwise I’d have failed my team. Note to self: must exercise upper body more.

Us enjoying the beer tent after the race.

Anyways. It was awesome. I’ve kept with the running since and ran a PR Turkey Trot 5k, signed up for two NYRR races in January, including the Manhattan half-marathon, and entered the lottery for the NYC Half and the ING NYC Marathon. What did I do?

Then as an early Christmas gift I went and gave myself tendinitis in the bottom of my right foot — legwarmers were the culprit — and have been out of commission for two+ weeks.

IM GOING CRAZY!!!!!!

My awesome podiatrist is “cautiously optimistic” that I can run the half on Jan 21st, and I’ll be playing with my gal in Conn this weekend instead of running the Joe Kleinerman 10K. *tear*

It was kinda convenient that this happened now — I’ve been working on a project at work that has actually been taking all my evening time so I haven’t had to voluntarily compromise running time. And the new website looks gooooood.

With that said, it’s a new year! I am making 2012 the year of SMILES AND POSITIVITY!!!

The Nike Women’s Marathon… 12 days later

Twelve days ago I ran the Nike Women’s [Half] Marathon. Remember that race? Have I mentioned it?

Anyways. It was 12 days ago. What have I done since? Well, for starters, I got a massage and sat on my butt for five days. Then, after that, I ran a 10k with my cousin. (Sean of Seanzanne.)

Yeah, not smart. Apparently you need to keep your legs moving if you want them to race for you. Its somewhere in the fine print of the sport… I just overlooked it.

The first three miles were hellish and I felt like my legs were full of cement. But at mile 4ish I loosened up and picked up the pace. Yay for negative splits!

I finished at…

Not great.... but not baaaad!

There was honestly one point in the race that I was completely 100% OK with stopping, walking off the course and Google mapping my way back to the finish line to wait for my cousin.

I didn’t. Obviously. But I wouldn’t feel bad if I had.

So, lesson learned. Don’t stop running. It makes it that much harder.

I also hit up the beach for a run. I havent run the Jones Beach boardwalk in a long time and it was SO REFRESHING. It was the absolute PERFECT combination of sun, breeze and warmth that makes me happy. Like warm fuzzies deep in your soul happy. Everything is perfect when running by the beach on a clear sunny day. EVERYTHING. I’m such a Pisces.

Ok, back to the race. When I ended my recap I declared one more order of business — a THANK YOU.

I don’t know where to start and I know I am going to tear up at some point in trying to say this.

When I asked you all to support my race, I was looking for some financial donations and maybe some running tips. What I didn’t realize at the time, was that I needed so much more.

The physical part of training was turned out to be slightly more difficult than I expected but the fundraising was much easier than I expected. That, B&Gs is allll thanks to you.

I asked you to support a good cause that had some personal meaning to me and would make a difference and you all did. You gave me a reason to run and for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

When I say I needed so much more, I am referring to understanding, patience and compromise.  Annnnd here come the tears. 

Thank you for putting up with my “alcohol-free, early-to-bed Friday nights.”

Thank you for tolerating my crankiness while my body adapted to being tortured four days a week and had sleep removed from its daily regimen.

Thank you for adapting the menu when I showed up to dinner with sweet potatoes because “I have a long run in the morning and I need running fuel.”

Thank you for feeding me when I randomly showed up at the house (mom and dad) all sweaty and gross and then proceed to eat everything in sight.

Thank you for understanding why I needed to postpone Friday night pub night for, like, 5 months.

Thank you for listening to me talk about running… alllll the time. I mean, like all the time. I know, I was annoying.

Thank you for asking me about how training is going even though you know its going to start a really long rambling about running.

Thank you for all your FB “likes” and comments on Nike+ to cheer me on during my runs. I honestly get so excited when my iPod cheers for me.

Thank you for the stories about your loved ones that battled Leukemia or Lymphoma. You brought tears to my eyes — and emotion is running fuel.

Thank you for all the articles, links and magazines you passed on with advice.

Thank you for taking care of me when I thought I could still drink two martinis.

Thank you for the tums when my stomach decided to backlash after I decided to jump full into a 300-crunches a day ab workout. (Yeah, I’ve since toned that down…)

Thank you for not commenting on the smells coming from my day-two running shorts.

Thank you for discussing running shoe brands (Brooks rule!!), hydration belts and fuel packets for periods of time much longer than necessary and I ever thought possible.

Thank you for almost always getting my “egg and ham on a scooped out whole wheat bagel” order correct.

Thank you for letting me stay at your apt in the city Friday night so I didn’t have to take a 5:30am train to get to practice on time.

Thank you for always making sure there were lots of carbo-packed sweet treats sitting around the house — and ice cream for the hot days.

Thank you to my coaches for all your help and support. Esp Coach Christine and Coach Wanda. You are both awesome and kinda my idols.

Thank you for dealing with my taper crankiness.

Thank you for going on spontaneous Saturday morning runs with me when I mis-COOCOO the train schedule and miss practice.

Thank you for all the music recommendations. I LOVED my playlist!

Thank you for all your texts and messages DURING the race… they were so much fun to read afterwards.

Thank you for the congratulatory flowers.

Thank you for your generous gifts and cards before the big day. They meant the world to me.

Thank you for letting me, mom and Andrew stay at your house in San Fran and stepping up as lead Marathon Groupie.

Thank you mom and Andrew for coming to San Francisco. I know you didnt really want to have to go there, but you did for me. 🙂 It made me so happy to see you guys there.

See? Sooo excited! Hugs anyone? I'm not THAT sweaty yet!

Thank you for keeping me going. Whenever I felt frustrated and down, someone was there to perk me up, remind me that I was capable of doing whatever it was I wasn’t sure I could do and encourage me to troop on no matter what.

Most of all, thank you for donating to such an amazing cause. LLS provides almost all the funds to help patients get treatment, and they work their butts off to raise money. Like REALLY work their butts off… and some of them run their butts off. lol. Their enthusiasm made me want to work all that much harder.

It took me a while to get to this entry because I didn’t feel confident that I could express the emotion that goes along with what I wanted to say. Now, reading this, I realize I am still not capable of expressing my gratitude. This sucks.

But I honestly don’t know if its possible, so I am going to give you these words for now… and maybe I’ll try again soon. (Saaaaay, with baked goods?)

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! I wish I could hug you all at once.

My boyfriend, Brooks

Of all the interests and sports and extracurriculars that stumble across this blog, there is one topic that rarely rears its head.

Dating.

The lack of coverage my dating and romantic life receives is not a reflection of my interest in it. In fact, contrary to many of my 30ish-year-old counterparts, I happen to really enjoy dating.

I like the excitement of meeting someone new, asking them 4,000 questions, analyzing all their answers, categorizing them into one of Helen Fisher’s personality descriptions (that’s my favorite part, actually), deciding if their classification mixes with mine and leaving either thrilled at the prospect of a second interview or pleased with my ability to feign interest and a new experience and lesson under my belt.

I also like relationships. I’m pretty intuitive when it comes to knowing what I want and like; rarely does a second date not lead to something long-term. You’re either in or out buddy.

With that said, why don’t I talk about my dating escapades on here? I often ask myself that. And the only conclusion I can come to is that I have yet to find someone I feel comfortable immortalizing on the blog. I refuse to delete or edit my entries after they are posted — or at least after the 24-hour edit period I allow myself after one goes up — so if you make it in, you’re there for good baby.

So here, for the first time, let’s talk about my love life.

I’ve been single since the middle of January. Along with the dreary post-holiday winter months came the end to an enjoyable and pretty healthy relationship. It just wasn’t “right” and I walked away hurt and disappointed on the premise that it “failed” but respectful of the fact that we just didn’t do it for each other. He was a good person. So am I. We just weren’t the kinda good that each other needed.

Ever since I’ve been happily bouncing through life unattached, free to dedicate my time to anything I please. And to be honest, I’ve kinda fallen in love with it.

But as it always goes, I cannot stay single for long. It occurred to me that while I appear on the surface to be single and unattached, I am in a very serious relationship.

For the past five months, I have been in a relationship with my Brooks running sneakers. They are all rolling their eyes thinking, yeah, ok, cute Lizzie, fun analogy; you’re point?

No seriously, hear me out. My approach to running in many ways mimics my approach to relationships. And I’m learning a lot about myself.

For starters, it often requires a huge compromise. Any given day I have a dozen things I need to and want to get done. Many of them do not include sweating around Manhattan, yet I make that compromise to keep the connection between me and “running” strong. I’ve done the “no compromise/ignoring” game in relationships — it doesnt seem to work too well. Significant others seem to want attention. Who knew? My shoes are the same. They are not happy sitting in my closet. Ok, the floor. They never make it home to the closet.

I’m also recognizing a mean competitive streak poking its head out to play. Another trait that tends to flourish in relationships. Just today, on my way out for a run, I was chatting on the phone with a friend who said “I ran a 10k today.” My reply, “Oh yeah? I’ll go run a 10k now.” Clearly he was challenging me, no? That’s what I got from that sentence.

Competitiveness has been a bit of a problem for me in relationships in the past. I am attracted to assertive, ambitious guys. Ambition breeds competition. Before you know it, I’m playing the “I can do it better” game with the one I love. (And for some reason we are never playing that game in the bedroom.)

Just like a boyfriend, my run proceeded to mess with my head for the five miles I did complete (failed on the 10k front). Too fast, too slow, too out of breath. I was all over the place. I just could not get my feet to listen and I was not listening to them. Sh!t happens! Sometimes communication just sucks.

Dude, WTF? Pace is ALL over the place.

Note to self: Buy a Garmin running watch. Nike+ is cool but there is no way you sped up from a 10:34 pace to a 7:51 instantly. The GPS tracking is all over the place.

PS Note to self: Win lotto to afford Garmin running watch.

Running, like [some of] my boyfriends makes me very proud. We share milestones together. Today, even though we were lacking the ability to communicate clearly, was one of those days I wanted to give running a big high-five, smooch on the lips. Today we hit 300 miles on Nike+. Yay Lizzie and Brooks. You guys rock!

That

Another tendency in my relationships is to eat more… like a lot more… than is normal and necessary for my body size. Maybe its some weird suppressed issue, but eating must turn me on because I seem to find men who had to be extreme eaters in another life. And (note the competitive comment above), I sometimes see it as a challenge. I AM NOT PROUD OF THIS. But when they sit down to a three-course meal of meat and sweets, you sure as hell bet that I will be eating the same. I once had a BF drop his fork on the table and gawk at me like a zoo animal… “I seriously just can not believe how much you eat sometimes. It doesn’t seem feasible.” Umm… yeah, it is!

Running also makes me eat… a lot!! Thank you running!

On the positive side, running has brought out my positive qualities, like a healthy relationship should. It’s helped me slow down and pace my life (more to come on that), as well as boosting up my butt and giving me some hamstring muscles. I’ve allllways wanted hamstrings. Like wanted them like the way a LI girl wants a monster Tiffany’s engagement ring.

Oh, and did I mention running gave me a Tiffany’s necklace? Yeah, it did. It’s an awesome BF.

Collecting my Tiffany

Anyways, all this time I thought I was single and I’m really not. I’m wholeheartedly dedicated and very deep in like with my running shoes and the wind in my hair. I’m even more in like with it now that its 55-degrees in the evening and not 90. Cool enough to wear my new long sleeve pink running shirt, but warm enough that all the men running are still in shorts. Yay running thighs. I’m such a sucker for quads. [shudder] Sooo sexy!

This relationship seems to suit me. It’s easy. It’s rewarding. Its supportive. Its healthy. More of my friends are taking it up so we can double date. And most of all it makes me smile.

“They” say ‘you know when it’s right.’ So until I meet someone who I want immortalized on the blog, I’m gonna stick with my Brooks.

After five months together, we are in that comfy stage where we’re not afraid to get a little dirty with each other.

Ahhh, Bliss.

My inner white robot, called Grit

In my Nike Women’s [Half] Marathon recap I referenced my inner white robot. As I typed it, I realized I had never actually discussed the inner white robot before and therefore was making no sense to most [read: all] of you.

Back in May, when running a half-marathon was only a figment of my dreams, I stumbled upon an article on Women’s Health called:

Determination: How to Get What You Want.

Determination? I have determination. Or do I? I must read this and find out. 

And without getting all weird and deep on you, it kinda changed my outlook on life… well, maybe not life, but definitely running. So I think you should read it too…

Ok…

you finished…?

If you didn’t read it, basically what it talks about is having grit.

… in 2002, Angela Duckworth, Ph.D., a researcher at the University of Pennsylvania, and her colleagues interviewed high achievers in various fields and found that they all shared one personal quality: grit. Defined as “sustained perseverance and passion for long-term goals,” grit seemed to explain why more top CEOs hail from state schools than from the Ivy League, and why some people gut out that last series of situps in boot camp while others flop on the floor when the burn really kicks in. According to Duckworth, “Grit entails working strenuously toward challenges and maintaining effort and interest despite failure, adversity, and plateaus.” While some people cut their losses when faced with boredom or disappointment, those with grit stay the course.

The article uses 29-year-old Micha Burden as an example. An average swimmer who went out and trained for a grueling ocean marathon called Open Water Swimming. She wanted to not only compete, but win. It states:

“I showed up for my workouts and got my butt kicked every day,” she says. But she didn’t give up, despite the fact that even Kenneth Baum, the sports performance consultant she had hired, pointed out how difficult it would be for her to reach her ambitious goal. “Her times were so slow; she was far off the national mark,” admits Baum, author of The Mental Edge, who nonetheless stuck by his client. “At one point I was thinking, You’re kidding—this isn’t going to happen. And then she blew everybody’s mind.”

And everyone out of the water. In October 2007, Burden managed to beat 24 superior athletes to win the U. S. Open Water World Championship Trials in Fort Myers, Florida. How’d she pull it off? Baum chalks it up to grit.

I remember reading that and thinking, Hell, I don’t even want to win the damn half-marathon. I just want to finish.

So pre-marathon sign-up I decided, whatever it is I decided to do next, I was doing it with grit. 

The article goes on to explain that while some people naturally have grit, others can learn and develop it. Phew. I was in the latter category. I knew I could do it — but without some tricks it’d be hard.

Baum, the author noted above, suggests in the article “latching on to mind games to help you push through the discomfort.” The article quotes:

Baum personally uses imagery to get through difficult races. “I say to myself, My legs are like pistons, my lungs like bellows,” he explains. “It lets me focus on the mechanics and not on the pain.”

After reading this article, I was at the beach attempting about 3-4 miles; it was one of my first times out after signing on the dotted line and I felt a stitch abruptly tear through my abdomen.

I thought to myself “I am not human; this is not pain. I am… I am…” and completely forgetting the reference he had made — probably becuase I don’t even know what pistons look like — the white robot from the movie, I, Robot, popped into mind.

I trucked on realizing about a half a mile later that while my stitch was still there, I hadn’t been paying attention. As far as I was concerned I was a machine that was not held down by human traits such as stomach cramps. Grrrrrrr.

Pretty intense right?

Whatever. It works.

There were a couple times out there on the Nike course that I channeled my inner white robot — one being up the big hill and then sporadically throughout the last two miles. Oh and at the end when I sprinted to the finish line.

Here I am channeling my inner white robot to make it to the finish line as fast as bloody possible.

Can’t you see the white robot there? See? Vrooom!

One other thing worth noting in the article is that grit requires more than just mental determination. It requires passion. You have to love what you are doing to want to get out and do it.

I did/do love running. But not all the time. There were days that I ran because I had to and days that I ran because I wanted to.

Now that the race is in the past *tear* a lot of people have asked me, “Are you going to keep it up?” I remind myself before flashing a look of offense that before May I was a very sporadic runner. It’s a very very fair question.

The answer is also very very easy. OF COURSE.

I genuinely really enjoy it. I love the sweat. I love the runner’s high. I love the sore legs. I love the anticipation before a run. I love knowing that I have that outlet.

I’ll keep it up. I may not run on those days that I “don’t feel like running.” I will likely replace some of those days with yoga/pilates classes. But running’s here to stay.

However, with that said, I did tell myself I would take a break after the run. The tightness and pain I was feeling after the run was too much to consider running in the next few days.

But that was before I went for a massage (THANKS TO MY LADIES FOR SUCH A WONDERFUL AND PERFECT GIFT!) at my favorite spa and all the pain washed away. Seriously, that woman had the hands of a hot fireman who had just given me a blue box (there go those visualizations again). She was WONDERFUL!

Today I felt the anticipation. My legs were itching to get out there… so I planned on coming home and doing just that.

Yeeeeeah, well, that didnt happen. I got sidetracked and distracted.

Instead of being outdoors pounding pavement I’m sitting in my kitchen with a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of champers (THANK YOU LIBBY!!!) celebrating not running. I held off on cheese the entire week before the run (it tends to upset my stomach) so I needed to indulge a bit.

This is basically my idea of heaven. Cowgirl Creamery at the Ferry market in SF.

Oh, I am also casually looking at the photo of me running that is now my iPhone backdrop. (Oh boy!)

I clearly have no problem celebrating myself with myself; who else loves me this much. lol.

As to getting back in my running shoes, I am running a 10K with my cousin this weekend, the NYC Urbanathlon next weekend…

and currently Googling 2012 halfs… Nashville? Napa? New Orleans?

What do you think? Any recommendations for the perfect location for a SECOND half marathon?

An early morning jaunt around San Francisco, aka the Nike Women’s Marathon

Half-marathon? Check.

I did it. I ran 13.1 miles of up and down the San Francisco hills alongside 22,000 other [crazy] women and 2,000 men.

Where do I start… seriously, my brain is not functioning at the moment so expect this blog to make as much sense as running 13.1 miles up and down hills for fun does.

I slept about 4 solid hours Saturday night before the nightmares about missing the race kicked in waking up every ten minutes to check the time. Combined with the 5 hours of sleep I got last night after the 13.1-mile jaunt around town and some afternoon sight-seeing, I’m in the “bite me zone.”

What is the “bite me zone” you ask? I just learned about the “bite me zone” at the TNT inspiration dinner (which was RIDICULOUSLY tear-jerking and inspiring) from our speaker, John Bingham, runner and author. As he says, it’s the point of the race when “you are running out there with your bestest girlfriend… you are closer to this person than anyone in your life… you are closer to this person than your own family… you love this person more than you do your own children… and around mile 21 you turn to her and say, ‘SHUT UUUUUP!!!!!!’”

It’s true ladies and gents. I approached it… and I wasn’t even playing near “mile 21.” Ha! I was on the verge of my “bite me zone” at two points – mile 10ish right before I saw my family cheering me on, and right NOW!

Bare with me please.

The race.

Throughout this training I have on numerous occasion referred to this event as the ‘second hardest physical challenge I have embarked on to date.’

I was wrong. It is THE hardest. Backpacking 192-miles across Northern England is a piece of cake compared to this. Psssssh. Coast to Coast, you got NOTHING!

But I am proud – VERY proud, actually – to say that I not only ran the bloody thing, but I ran it smart. According to Nike – and who knows better than the sports goddess herself (yes, Nike is a female, duh!) – my average pace across the 5k, 10k and 15k splits were within a 15-second range. If that’s not some smart pacing, I don’t know what is.

(Less than) 24 hours to go…

AHHHHHH!!!

If all goes well, and as planned, in 24 hours I will be a half-marathoner. I will be at the San Francisco beach celebrating with my family and team.

Even though I’ve been in San Francisco since Wednesday night, it’s only now starting to hit me that tomorrow, I am running 13.1 miles.

Holy shit!

I’m feeling a mix of motivation and dread. We are staying in SF with my mom’s college friend and her husband is a 5-time marathoner and many more half-marathoner, triathlete and a bunch of other length’ers. He keeps saying I’ll be just fine. So I know I will be.

I think my nervousness comes from the sheer size of this race. There are 20,000+ peeps running the Nike Women’s Marathon and Half, including all 56 (is that right?) chapters of the LLS Team in Training program. I have seen a lot of them about the city over the last couple of days — ladies with Team in Training t-shirts, ladies with running/race t-shirts, ladies and men running around the city and ladies sight-seeing with killer leg muscles that they MUST be running this marathon. (Seriously, I have never seen so many amazingly toned quads and calves in one place before. I’m in awe.)

In the meantime, we have been doing some awesome sight-seeing. I am in love with San Francisco. Like, I want to pack my bags up and move here tomorrow, in love. Not sure why, maybe just because I’ve always had it in my head that I wanted to live here without any rhyme or reason, but I love it. Everywhere you look, there are amazing views, hills, water, bridges. It’s got a bustling NY-style financial district (downtown) area, fun-looking houses/apts and fabulous food. The only thing missing is snow and snowboarding — but Lake Tahoe is only three hours away. That’ll do I guess.

Here are a some (a very few) highlights of the touristy part of the trip so far:

The big gold bridge

Andrew and mom on Alcatraz island in front of the big gold bridge.

The coast at Muir Beach

Redwoods at Muir Woods

Fisherman's Wharf

Us atop the hill of Coit Tower

Andrew on Twin Peaks with the Bay and the city in the background

Mom and Monique (our amazing hostess) atop Twin Peaks in front of the bridge

And that’s that kids, I’m off to hit up the markets and do more sight-seeing…

Then its off to the hotel to get ready for the big race. AHHHHHHH!!

It’s go time… well, almost!

So I am on the way to my race. Well, I am on my way to San Francisco, not heading to the starting line just yet. Buuuuut it’s approaching go time.

Over the last few days people keep asking me the million-dollar question.

“Are you ready?”

Good bloody question, people.

Have I trained? Yes! Lots.

Can I run 13.1 miles? I think so.

Did I raise money? Absolutely! (And I’m not done. You can still donate: How about I’ll trade you 13.1 miles for $13.10, deal?)

Am I nervous? Kinda undecided. I’m not. But sometimes I am.

The thing is, I know I can do it…

… iiiiiiiiiiiif I have a good run. Major factor.

90% of the time I feel confident that it will be impossible for me to not have a great run. I mean its my first bloody race. How can I not be bouncing off the walls hills?

The remaining 10% of the time I am absolutely terrified that I’ll get there, rocket from the finish line and have a really really bad run. And its not having a bad run that worries me — I’ve had bad runs before; I can manage them — it’s realizing its a bad run early on, knowing I have to continue it for another 10+ miles and hating it.

Because one thing I haven’t figured out yet is how to turn a bad run into a good run — or even a mediocre run for that matter. And I’m already contemplating where to run my next one so I can’t hate half-marathons just yet.

My bad runs usually stem from a combination of lack of/poor choice of fuel at any point in the previous 12 hours and annoying weather.

There isn’t much I can do other than prepare for the best run of my life:

• I’m doing my best to eat a 60% healthy-carb diet and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.
• I’ve got a range of clothes to choose from to be ready for all types of weather.
• I’m staying positive.
• My fingers are crossed

What else can I do? Either way, this is going to be my longest run and second biggest physical accomplishment to date.

All along I’ve just taken my training in stride without much thought to the immensity of what I’m about to do.

Every long run was a small step closer to a goal that was becoming increasingly less intimidating and closer to my reach. At this point, it just feels like another Saturday morning run — not a big accomplishment of any sorts.

But at some point last night when I was packing I realized something:

I AM ABOUT TO RUN A HALF-MARATHON!

ME!

LIZ!

For a few minutes, I saw this goal from the same perspective I had seen it months ago — like something a crazy person would do — and now I am doing it. WTF?

So here goes nothing Bs&Gs. Wish me luck! (and donate $13.10…!)

Oh, and just in case I’m not prepared and my run turns bad, I have a back-up plan. If I’m out there in horrendous pain, wanting to crawl off the side of the road into a ditch, I am going to channel both my competitive and stubborn traits at the same time. I have a friend I met recently who ran a half-marathon without any training whatsoever in response to a bet. If he could do it without collapsing, you can bet your sweet arse I’m sure as hell going to.

See, I knew my stubbornness would come in handy one day!

Spreading the Run Bug

I received the best email recently. My friend, who I will not name but call Izzy for the purpose of this blog, emailed me awesome news. Her birthday just passed. In addition to kicking off her 29^th anniversary of life with an awesome Mexican dinner from her favorite hole in the wall, she…

wait for it…

 

WENT FOR A RUN!

Her email read:

“So guess what, I am starting to run. I ran a half mile yesterday and it is the 2nd time I did it on the treadmill. That might not sound huge to you but that is the first time I ran in 6 years.

…

I am going to make it my “29” goal. I want to be able to run a half marathon for 30. That gives me a whole year to work up to 8 miles. You look like you are in great shape and it was inspiring.”

I honest to goodness threw my fist in the air when I read, “I ran a half mile…” No Izzy, that isn’t huge to me, that is extremely humungous to me. I  couldn’t wait to reply to her email and talk running. So I did. And we did. And she’s still on board.

What I love about Izzy, among other things, is her sheer determination/ stubbornness to meet her accomplishments. Some of my favorite quotes from our email thread include:

“13.1? A half marathon is 13.1 miles? Ahh crap, I thought it was 8 miles.”

“I don’t know if I like running, but I like setting a goal and meeting it.”

“When I hit 2 miles I will get into it more; right now I don’t want to psych myself out… God, I can’t imagine; what if I could actually run for 2 miles?”

Touche Izzy. I don’t even know if I like running yet. And if I do, I definitely don’t like the first 2 to 3 miles; I only start feeling warmed up at mile 3 or 4.

Me and Izzy at the NYC library when she visited NYC.

After I enthusiastically rambled to her, offered to send every piece of running advice I ever received and tried to recruit her for like 7 different half marathons, I told her about my high school gym teacher.

I wish I remembered the teacher’s name, but if you ask anyone who the bitchy gym teacher was in my HS during my reign, they’d know who I was talking about.

Every year we had to run one mile for our physical fitness test.

One mile! Only four laps around the track.

I never even ran one.

Everytime I would take off (too fast probably, considering what I know now), I would cramp up and almost collapse with a side stitch. OUCH!

• Gym Bitch said I shouldn’t eat before school. I skipped breakfast. I cramped.
• Gym Bitch said I should eat a small breakfast. I ate a small breakfast. I cramped.
• Gym Bitch said I should drink some juice. I drank some juice. I still cramped.
• Gym Bitch finally told me ‘You’re just not a runner. Don’t sign up for track.’

I never signed up for track.

But what Gym Bitch doesn’t know is that 8 years later I did sign up for a 5K. And another thing she doesn’t know is that next week I am running a half marathon.  Soooo, apparently Gym Bitch was wrong. I can run.

I remember running my first 5k. My bestie AAA coerced me into running with the ol’ run/walk around the track method. Before I knew it I was running a lap. Somehow I ok’d the registration for a 5k (a leap year 5k that took place on a rainy Feb 28^th at 10pm) and the next thing I knew I was a 5k-finisher.

AND THE CROWD ROARS!

The pride that I felt after finishing that race was nothing like I expected.  Sure for many, including my bestie who can run a 5k hungover faster my current PR, a measly 3.1 is just a fun run, but for me it was like climbing Mount Everest. It was something I had never thought I would do, wanted to do, aimed to do… but I did it!

So when I hear my gal friend Izzy is on track to cross the finish line of something she doesn’t even know if she likes doing (she does; she doesn’t know it yet), I get that rush all over again.

AAA waited at the finish line of the 5Ks we ran together cheering me on as if I had just broke the record for the NYC Marathon. That support is awesome. And the awesome thing about running is that you always suck at one point, and everyone out there pounding pavement knows how awesome it feels to progressively suck less.

So GO IZZY…. RUN! RUN! RUN!

Completely coincidental, I received another email — or IM rather — that same day that made me gleam with pride. My bestie from college, K-dawg, announced that she was running a 5K. Actually she said, in response to my question of ‘why are you traveling to [city] this weekend?’…

“Are you sitting down for this?? Ready? I am running a 5K.”

This time my jaw dropped a little bit, THEN my fist went into the air. Funny thing is, K used to run in college occasionally, although I always thought it was an excuse to visit her BF without having to tell me. 😉 Other than that, K doesn’t advertise herself as one for strenuous exercise so I was soooooooo excited that she was on board with the running bug.

WOO HOO K!!! 

Fast forward a couple weeks, K not only completed her 5k last weekend, she came in third in her age group with an 8:21 mile. HOLY COW K… ROCK ON! I am overly impressed that she walk/ran/trained her way to an 8:21 in five weeks. I am overly impressed that she ran a 8:21 period, even if she had been training for a year.

I am looking forward to running something with her soon… K, want to run something together soon? I’ll let you win. lol (No seriously, even if I could beat that time, I’d let her win… K doesn’t lose.)

K and I at our first "race" together... our senior year pub crawl...

I love hearing about my non-running friends becoming running friends.

I love that they love what I love… or at least I love that they are doing what I love whether they love it or not…

KEEP RUNNING GALS!!

PS. One week until my race… AHHHHH!!!

PPS. Did you donate yet?

 

Another point of running inspiration: My grandparents

Do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you to be careful running around or you’d “fall and break your neck?”

It actually happens. A few weeks ago my grandma fell and broke her neck. She definitely wasn’t running around, more like walking or standing, but the end result is the same.

Fractured vertebra!

Ouch!

She spent a few days in the hospital and is now in a nursing home rehab. She has to wear a neck brace that she hates and is always, as she says, “just falling off.”

Grandma is 92. She also has dementia meaning a lot of the times she doesn’t know who we are and often tells us about how she entertained, cooked and danced the day away. What a nursing home, eh? One big party!

Rarely does she know who I am when I visit, often referring to me as my mom. I’m too young; she lives in a time long ago when her and my grandpa traveled the world, went square dancing a few times a week and my grandpa ran half-marathons. And there you were thinking “Wait, no running connection?”

My grandparents have been married for 67 years.

67 YEARS! That is a looooong time.

I admit, with embarrassment, that I didn’t get to know them as well as I wish I had growing up. But like all good couples, grandpa complements grandma with memories of the old days clearer than mine are from yesterday. I did NOT get my poor memory from him.

He loves the story about when he was in the airforce and they had their first child, my uncle, without a penny to their name out in Colorado. Grandma had to take Amtrak back to NY herself with an infant when grandpa got stationed elsewhere. Maybe that’s where my love for traveling across countries comes from. He talks about his career in the fire department. He talks about his bout with alcoholism and the subsequent decades in AA and all the friends he made as a result. But what he talks about most of all, and the one consistent in all his stories, is grandma.

“I knew right away she was the one for me. Sure I’d dated other girls but as soon as I met her, I knew she was it,” he told me during one of our hospital visits. “Course she didn’t think the same thing. She was dating like three other guys. (Grandma was/is a big flirt!) Finally I told her to make a decision.

But I knew right away… have you ever felt that way about a guy?”

“Ummm, I’m single grandpa.”

He shrugged and smirked.

According to my grandpa, grandma got him off the couch. Perfectly content to sit around and watch TV, grandma encouraged him to go dancing with her and to travel the world.

“She gave me a life,” he is always saying.

She is that type of person. Even with a broken neck and her mind hanging out anywhere between 1919 and Roosevelt’s presidency, she’s still smiling, flirting with young doctors, making wise arse remarks in response to everything she hears, laughing at her nursing-home housemates and sharing nothing but happy memories — even if it does become a game for us to guess what time period and who she’s speaking about.

Grandpa also reminds us how lucky he feels to have had her stick by him when his favorite pastime was alcohol.

“She could have, and rightly at times should have, walked away. I wasn’t nice.”

But she didn’t. Instead she stuck around to see him drop drinking like it was hot, buy a pair of running shoes and cheer him on through his first half-marathon.

And his second for that matter.

Grandma and Grandpa after his first marathon!

My grandpa took up running when he was in his 60s. And here I am complaining about my 29-year-old aches and pains? He just ran for fun, to have something positive to indulge in; he wasn’t out to set any records or race. But he did. He ran 13.1 miles… Twice!

I always knew this about my grandpa, I remember watching him run past the end of our block during the Long Island Half-Marathon when I was a wee-youngin’. He also talks about after the run: A lot of the guys were going off to celebrate with a beer, which Grandpa was obviously not feelin’. My dad offered him a BBQ and it made his day. ha. In our house a good BBQ’d burger has always been the key to happiness.

I love that my grandpa ran. I love that someone in my family loved something that I love. I love that when I talk about a runner’s high, his eyes light up.

He seems to like it too. During dinner one night a couple months ago, he went through all the tips he could think of.

Start slow, save your energy. 

Make sure you stretch.

Do you have good shoes? You need good shoes.

What are you eating? I always liked to eat a piece of toast with peanut butter. (or something like that)

I had told him I had numerous coaches teaching me the ins and outs of running without catastrophe, but he obviously knew better. I mean, he is 92, dont all 92-year-olds know best? So I listened and thanked him and told him stories about my coaches and the runs I had completed so far.

I saw him the weekend I ran my first 10-miler… the Jackrabbit race. He was very proud. It was cute.

My grandparents are another reason I am running. Grandpa did it — in his 60s nonetheless — so I want to do it too. And even though Grandma wasn’t pounding pavement with him, she guided him through life. Sixty-seven years together and they are still 100% in love with each other. Grandma’s dementia sometimes thinks there are two grandpas — which grandpa uses to his advantage blaming the not-so-good dinners on “the other guy” — but in her heart, he’s the only one that’s ever been there. He’s the one that makes her light up like she’s a 20-something year old in love for the first time.

And he still looks at her like a 20-something year old who found “the one.”

She goes home again the day after I run. Until then, they meet in the nursing home, try to hear each other's stories and and hold hands like they're on their first date.

Taper Time!

One of the things I love most about running is that it provides time to think. My life’s gearshift is stuck in overdrive so often it isn’t until I hit the pavement that my brain finds the time to wander freely. I come up with my most creative writing ideas while running.

The downfall of this is that I never remember those ideas when I am back in front of my computer. I had come up with a clever angle for a blog entry and when I flipped open my laptop to put it into words, whooooooosh. It vanished. I think it was because I was distracted by my brand new computer screen and keyboard. It went under the knife last night to have the screen (and apparently the other internal casing from the look of it) replaced. It occurred to me that I had never ever cleaned the screen before – its so much easier to work on when you can see your screen.

Anyways, blog entry… gone.

The race is in 11 days.
11 days! Ahhhh!

Monday we had our San Fran marathon kick-off meeting to go over the logistics and the details of how this thing is going down. Annnnnnd now I am stressed.

Remembering what to bring, what to wear, what to eat, what to drink, what to carry, what not to bring, what not to wear, what not to eat, what not to carry… AHHHH!!!

Oh, and get this. It was suggested that we start packing now. NOW?! I haven’t even opened my suitcase from my last trip. Don’t they know that I don’t pack until its go time?? …like about to run out the door go time??

They did have some good points though… about, you know, not forgetting things. Since the coaches are always right, I am going to attempt to plan ahead and go to the store this weekend and stock up on the things I don’t have. That list, so far, consists of:

Jelly Belly Sport Beans… a LOT of them! (Yummmm)

Clif Shot Bloks… an alternative fuel option.

White long-sleeve baselayer… apparently SF is kinda chilly in the am.

Maaaaaaybe a pair of leggings… MAYBE!

Hair Tinsel Is that what you call it? My cousin is dying to put this sparkly tinsel in my hair. I banned her from doing it before my business trips and instead told her she could add TNT colors in before the race. Yay!

And that’s it. Everything else is good to go.

Things I absolutely CAN NOT forget…

my sneakers (duh!)

sports bra, running shorts and singlet

sunglasses… I can not run without them

iPod arm band… I am dying to click “half marathon” distance run on the Nike app

My feelings about this are all mixed up. I know I am capable of doing it. However, my last long run – 11 miles – was one of the hardest runs I’ve done. On top of being a trainee-slacker the last few weeks, my confidence is quivering slightly. Even more so because we are supposed to be tapering.

TAPERING! THAT WAS WHAT I WANTED TO DISCUSS IN THIS ENTRY.

Yeah, so apparently in marathon training you taper the last couple weeks, wean off the long miles and intense strength training to let the muscles regroup and all the aches and pains to heal themselves. I gotta say I didn’t really understand the point of tapering… I mean, I do, but why? Every week we worked ourselves up to a higher mileage, so why not continue to work up, hitting the 13.1 miles on race day? Right? Actually, I think we should work ourselves up to 15 so that way there would be no doubt about nailing the 13.1. ha! (So typical of me.)

So like I said, I didn’t understand. Well I did, but I didn’t fully understand the extent of the benefit. However, like I mentioned, I’ve been slacking on the training. I tried to run while on the road the last couple of weeks but between wine tasting and city tours and late-night dinners and wine tasting and shopping and wine tasting, it was hard to fit anything decent in. I got a good 30 minutes in one morning, pre-workday, in Barcelona and a decent 45-minute-ish the following night, but running strange cities where I can’t speak the language in the dark isn’t something I make a habit of. You know rapists in the bushes, killers in the alley ways and all that jazz. (They are everywhere; it’s a fact.)

These runs were not the long run I was supposed to do that weekend (6-8 miles). At the meeting on Monday Coach Barb said that it was time to taper… “you’re as ready as you’re gonna be.”

Good point Coach Barb: I am as ready as I can be.

Still, I knew I needed to push out one more good run – didn’t have to be super long, but just a hard training run. So I lugged my running stuff to the office and hit the west side highway after work (beats running my town in the dark). The last three days were empty of any physical activity other than walking up the stairs to go to bed and rolling over to hit the snooze, so I was afraid I wouldn’t get very far.

Well, surprise, surprise… I logged 6.75 miles like it was nothing.

The air is cool, there was a good breeze and dozens of people running. PERFECT conditions. I ran from my office to the west side and down almost to the WTC and back. LOVED IT! And my legs felt great. Three days of rest was helpful. I guess this tapering thing does kinda work. Go figure!

The run was just what I needed to boost my spirit to rock this thing. How could you not be inspired by this view?

You can see the WTC tower going up in the distance!

Stopping to watch the sunset for a few minutes...

NYC is an awesome place to run. When it comes time to hit up San Francisco, I will be referring back to all the inspiring views I ran past in NYC to get me over the hills of San Francisco. And to show our love for the city that prefers running to sleeping, we all are supposed to show up in I ❤ NY t-shirts at the marathon dinner.

LOVE IT!

NYC Chapter represent!!!

Travel Season!

To focus on a non-running topic, it’s trade show season! What does that mean? It means I am presented with opportunity after opportunity to live out of a suitcase and rack up frequent flyer miles to attend trade shows and press conferences.

Fact: I do not know how to say “no” to anything that involves an airplane. (Let’s face it, I rarely say “no” to anything. Take that as you wish.)

The social side of business trips is awesome — check out new city (and its restaurants). However, despite the fun stuff, I happen to really like attending trade shows. They are jam-packed full of enthusiasm and passion. It’s a wave of positivity… and these are a few of my favorite things. Everyone attending loves their product and wants to demonstrate it, shove it in your mouth or give you some to take home.

What’s not to love? Seriously?

Wearing a press badge gets you lots of attention! I came home from last week’s show in Baltimore with all-natural whitening keylime-flavored toothpaste, an awesome baby gift idea that I can’t share in case my cousin reads this, herbal female and male sexual enhancement pills (they were thrown at me; apparently I look like I need them), caffeinated gum that I’m pretty sure I’m addicted to, more gummy vitamins than I’ll eat in a year and heartburn from the [supposed] all-natural chicken sliders and the [supposed] gluten-free pizza samples I devoured for lunch. Oops.

On the social side, I did get to check out Baltimore on foot.

Ok, I am gonna talk about running. I can’t help it!

I was in a new city. What better way to see a new city than on foot? And with less than three weeks to go, I cant afford not to let travel interfere with my training momentum. So I left the show promptly and took off to explore, with my Brooks Adrenaline 11s as my tour guide. Though I probably should have signed up for the Brooks/Pepper Spray tour in hindsight. There are some SKETCHY areas of B-more.

I found the inner harbor and it was as pretty as I’d been told.

I was looking for sailors... and I all I found was a big boat!

I LOVE B&Ns... they offer a happy place wherever you go.

The less sketchy side of the city.

From my route along the very pretty boardwalk at the harbor I noticed a park across the way… with a hill.

You know how little kids (read: also me) can’t help but jump in puddles? That’s how I now feel about running hills. I see them and I need to run up them. Thanks TNT!

So I ran up it. Actually, to make it fun I ran up the stairs and then looped up and down the incline. Why not?

view from a hill...

It was pretty from atop. I learned later from the concierge that it is called Federal Park?

It was buggy! Walking back into the hotel I got a lot of stares. I thought “What? Haven’t seen anyone sweat before?” But upon looking in the mirror, I learned what they were truly grossed out by:

ok, the bugs stuck to me dont show up well here... but its pretty nasty

And that’s that! I fit a 4.5-mile sight-seeing running tour into my trip to Baltimore — or more accurately, a 4.5-mile sight-seeing running tour of the safe parts of the inner area of Baltimore.

Next stop on the “Liz runs on business trips” series… (drumroll please; this is gonna be fun!) … Barcelona!

I leave today. Stay tuned!

Three Cheers for Endurance Sports!

From the looks of my Facebook news feed, the fall endurance sports season is in full swing. All weekend friends and organizations were busy posting support and cheers for those participating in marathons, triathlons, charity walks and other races. Among those were my Hamptons marathon TNT teammates. GO HAMPTONS TEAM! Special shoutout to Ines, my running buddy who ran her first half in 2:20. I hope I come close to such an awesome time!

In the spirit of the season, I jumped on board completing my longest run yet — 11 miles — on Saturday and then heading to Westchester (at 530 am, mind you) to cheer on my friend Kenny while he completed his second triathlon.

My run is not much to talk about. I trooped it from Bethpage State Park (kinda in the middle of Long Island) down to the Massapequa Preserve and back. It was tiring and hard and I definitely didn’t fuel enough. I felt really sluggish with 1.5 miles to go, like REALLY sluggish, but I only had a Gu packet left and I really didn’t want to deal with digesting that with such little distance to go. (I remember when I couldn’t run a mile and now its a “small distance.” ha!)  I toughed it out and promised to better stagger my fuel next time.

My 11-mile route!

Today’s event was much more exciting. The Westchester Triathlon counts as an Olympic qualifier (not sure what that means, but you can imagine the caliber of contestants it attracts) and includes a .9-mile swim, 25-mile run and a 6.2-mile run. And Kenny rocked all three.

the crowds getting ready to hit the water!

Kenny's wave is off! GO KENNY!

our boy heads off to find his bike!

the bike lot emptying out fast as all the athletes take off on the second leg of the race!

Team Swierupski Cheer Squad (in uniform) waiting for him to round the corner of the run portion! (we estimated him to finish at 2:39!)

there he goes... finishing at... wait for it... 2:39!!! WOO HOO!

the recap! tell us about Kenneth!

It was the first Tri I ever attended and a lot of fun to track down and cheer for Kenny along the way! (I also enjoyed cheering for all the TNT teams.) He ran it in 2:39:something — an awesome time. We watched people continue to cross the finish line as we drank celebratory beers.

His cheer squad was very proud. I mean, he’s a triathlete… how cool is that? (And look how cute he looks in his unitard… his girlfriend is one lucky lady!)

 

Guess what I am doing four weeks from today…

…. soooo… give up??

In four weeks from now I will be sitting down, hopefully somewhere with delicious food and alcohol, celebrating the second biggest physical accomplishments of my life. (Backpacking across England still takes the gold!) I will have run a half-marathon… 13.1 miles… up and down and all around the San Francisco hills.

Oh, wait, did you know I was training for half-marathon? ha! ha! ha! (Yes, yes, the email and blog harassment will stop after the race.)

So what does that mean? I got four weeks to get in better half-marathon shape and to stay in better half-marathon shape. I want to be at my peak for this thing and, I must confess, the last few weeks I’ve been lazy! But that all changed this weekend.

Friday night I went out for the first time since last weekend’s 16-miles-in-26-hours stunt. It was a good warm-up for Saturday’s race — the Fitness Magazine’s Mind, Body, Spirit Games 4-miler! Easy four miles throughout Central Park so I gave it as much as I had and ran it in record time. I maintained a less-than-10-min/mile pace the entire time. WOO HOO!!! That is awesome for me!

See?? I rocked it!

All the training is paying off — and the nice cool weather is helping! If I recall correctly, I ran my first 5k in about this time back in 2008 when I began to run casually here and there. So for someone who was always told she wasnt a runner, noooot bad! GO ME!

To kick up the training a bit, I had plans to go out with a friend to conquer some awesome hill workout he designed nearby his place in Queens. Time and other obligations prevented it so instead I headed out this morning to find some hills near my house. I hit up Levy Park in Merrick upon my dad’s recommendation. It’s a huge garbage dump that they covered over (I hope safely), grew some greenery and created a park with views of the surrounding towns, the bay and even the Manhattan skyline… off in the distance. And since it’s, well, one big hill, it was great hill training!

Here are some views from my run:

Manhattan in the distance... can you see? Look close!

Other people hiking the hills too... (they were walking; doesnt count!)

There is fishing!

Overlooking the bay... you can see the Jones Beach water tower and theater in the distance!

Someone else was out for a morning Sunday run. Well, I think she was out for food but it turned into a run when she got wind of me invading her territory.

 

Great place for hill training. Love it!

Gravel hills took a little getting used to but I’ve always preferred trail running… I think my next move needs to be to somewhere with lots of hilly trails… hmmm…

 

Why my cousin’s are the awesomest parents ever!

I’ve been slacking on the blogging. Oops. My bad. Rest assured my lack of blog love is not representative of my running love.

Quite the contrary actually… I had my best run EVER today! I also had my worst run ever earlier this week, but hey, no rain, no rainbow.

However, this entry isn’t about running; it’s about why my cousins, Suzanne and her husband Sean, are the awesomest parents ever! Let’s call them Seanzanne; they deserve a Hollywood name!

I am currently on Amtrak on my way to Seanzanne’s kids’ birthday party!

Jacquelyn turns 4 on Sept 11…

…and Liam turns the big 1 on the 15th.

And in lieu of adding more toys to the playroom pile, they have asked that their friends and family donate to the infamous half-marathon I am running for LLS. (Have I mentioned I’m doing that?)

How sweet are they? Here is the backstory.

Suzanne and I were close growing up. Well, not physically, we lived hours apart, but we spent summers on Long Island creating renditions of Ace of Base performances (along with cousin Katie we had a hot ladies trio) and practicing suntanning at the beach. When I visited them upstate we spent the days running around the mountain they lived on and helping grandma get her first speeding ticket — “Faster! Faster! Drive down the mountain as fast as you can!” *police sirens* (Oops!)

When we weren’t together, we wrote letters to each other like crazed pen-pals… seriously!

Suzanne and I at the birfday party!

Growing up Suzanne dreamed of having a family with a wonderful hubby and fantastic kids, while I imagined being a back-up dancer to Madonna. As we “matured,” Suzanne continued to dream of chasing kiddies around and sought out a career in child care. (I, thanks to ADD, gave up the Madonna dream before I learned what a virgin was.)

When Sue married Sean after college I couldn’t have been happier for anyone. She had found her Prince Charming and they were both excited to embark on their happily ever after. They suit each other perfectly.

You can imagine the impact of the news they received a few years later when Seanzanne was enjoying life with a lil baby girl — Sean was diagnosed with Hodgkins Disease and had to go for chemo treatment.

Sean has been cancer-free for more than three years now!!! WOOO HOOO!!

Made from the same uncommunicative genes, Sue and I didn’t talk much about it, possibly not at all until recently. But when I realized at the information session that Hodgkins was under the LLS umbrella, it gave me a personal inspiration to run for LLS. When the runs get hard, knowing I’m running for a cause that’s helped someone I care about keeps me motivated!

Sean has made my cousin’s dreams come true. And for that reason alone I love him… it doesn’t hurt that he happens to be funny, ambitious and an awesome father and husband — even if he only eats chopped meat in certain shapes. (So weird!) Oh and we’re going running tomorrow. He used to run cross-country so he’s totally on board with this crazy training.

I am so appreciative that they are supporting my run so I can support a cause that has helped their family stay healthy and happy.

(You can too! Click HERE to donate and make sure to submit it in honor of “Jacquelyn and Liam” (under the Add Comment section) to wish them a very happy birthday!)

I also can’t wait to get there to bake cupcakes and chase the kiddies around. I mean, look at them. HOW CUTE ARE THEY?

Happy Birthday!!!
LYLAC. xx

So this one time, at training, I ran to Jersey…

… and had my best run ever! Which surprised me since I was running to Jersey. Ok, ok, I’ll be nice to the state. I really don’t have anything against America’s armpit; I was just raised on Long Island and therefore am culturally trained to mock Jersey. Can’t help it. And the fact that the second I stepped foot on the GW Bridge a stench of sewage swarmed up my nose doesn’t help it’s case. (Seriously it stunk!)

Ok, ok.

This run was awesome! Here are the highlights:

1. WB Upper-deck De-virginization
It was my first time crossing the bridge westbound on the upper deck. Not sure why this is significant but considering the amount of times I have driven across that thing and have never found the ramp to the upper deck…

2. Jelly Belly Sport Beans.
BEST. DISCOVERY. EVER. I bought these on a whim because Coach Christine told us in an email that “orange sport beans” were her favorite, and, well, I’ll do anything Coach Christine does. BEST. DISCOVERY. EVER. I actually ate a handful before I ran — along with a banana it was the perfect pre-run brekkie!

3. Barefoot Runner on GWB
Yeah, I get the barefoot running trend but across the GW? Not safe! Everyone in our single-file TNT line looked around at each other in agreement — Not Safe!

4. My First Ever Pee Break
As the girl in the stall next to me perfectly put it, “Note to self: be a man in next life.”

The bridge that I just crossed off in the distance from our pit stop in the Palisades Park! I ran that! WOO!

5. HILLS!
I ROCKED THEM! No walking this time!

TNT running through the Palisades Park!

6. Water Belt Success
I finally got my arse a hydration belt. And since I didn’t order it online like I had planned and had to pay full price like an idiot, I got myself a pretty pink one! It took me about a half-mile to get used to it. Never doing a long run without it — packed with jelly beans of course — again.

7. Ten Miles — Again!
I hit the double digits, and this time I loved it. No contemplations about quitting. I could have even run another three and completed a half. (Tomorrow I might be singing another tune!)

Ummm, did I just run through that?

I couldn’t be happier about today’s training. After my last ten miles at the JackRabbit race and my worse run ever earlier this week (not even worth talking about), I had gotten a little disheartened.

But the running gods are looking out for me. I am sooooo on my a-game and SOOOOOOO ready to kill this thing!

San Fran… Here I come!

 

Irene ruined my run

Pre-Irene beach run SUCKED!  Humans arent the only vultures stocking up on food and water. The mosquitoes were out to fill up too and wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. And let me point that that BUGS DON’T LIKE ME! I havent gotten a bug bite since I was about 7 years old… but these damn bugs were desperate. I couldn’t handle it and bailed early.

Irene didn’t make it easy either.

FOG!!! Oooooo

Bring it Irene!! COME ON!

Looking forward to a Monday-morning long run! 5.5 miles does NOT count as a long run anymore.

How long did it take me to run 10 miles?

The results are up B&Gs. My finish time?

1:49:58

Sure, a lot of people ran it faster than I did… 512 to be exact. But I ran most of it a lot faster than I thought I would. I’ll tell you my pace was NOT consistent — staying under 10min/mile for the first 6-7 miles and much slower after that.

Here are some lessons, or “reminders,” I took away from running the JackRabbit Battle of Brooklyn 10-Miler.

1. I’m shit at hills. Absolutely shite, I say. This was payback for missing the last couple Tuesday TNT hill training sessions. (Bad Liz!)

2. Part of the reason I’m shite at hills is because I’m naturally crap at maintaining and adjusting my pace. If I don’t think about it I’m all over the place — I’m fast, I’m slow, I’m running backwards, I’m napping. Who knows. But it takes a lot of conscious effort to maintain a consistent pace — running as fast as I can doesn’t count as pace — and as my last blog entry taught us, conscious effort is sometimes difficult for my sporadic thought process.

3. PowerBar Energy Gels are awesome. Not like a shot of caffeine awesome — tho they do make some with caffeine — but just enough of a boost to troop on and do it with a smile awesome! I’m glad I found something that works.

4. I still don’t know what the hell to eat in the morning before long runs. I can’t eat a lot; it makes me feel ewww. If I don’t eat, I’m dragging. I think I’m gonna stick with bananas. I really like eating bananas.

5. Hills require more recoop time. While I am normally up and excited for a recovery run the day after a long run, today I was not. I mean, I guess that could have to do with the beer and liquor I drank last night, but the beer and liquor definitely didn’t cause the ache in my calves.

I’m quite chuffed with my time.
Actually I am quite chuffed that I completed the race.
F that! I am quite chuffed with myself for signing UP for the race!

Go E!