Always An Adventure

The "Finding Amy...Again" journey has taken me on quite a few different "exercise adventures" over the past few years.  

It started at Clay Fitness + Nutrition, where, from day one three years ago, I was taken far beyond what I believed my body was capable of. This adventure, of course, continues to this day and my body is still challenged to exceed my expectations with every class I take!  

I've done several 5Ks over the past few years. My favorite was the Hilton Head Run For the Heritage that the Spicy Chicken & I did in 2011. Not only was it completely flat (my kind of race!) it was the first race we'd done together since the 1999 Denver Governor's Cup 10K. It was, consequently, also the last race we did together. Hmmm...

I also had a great time doing the Featheridge/Clay 5K Run to Rebuild with Moe in spring of 2011. Okay, maybe "great time" is a slight exaggeration, as this was her first true race and she may have cried once or twice along the way. But we did it, and even have the pictures to prove it!

Training for the Charlottesville Ten Miler this spring was probably the toughest adventure I've taken so far. Running distances does not come naturally to me. Hard as I tried, I never reached that "I love this!" moment so many runners speak of. I did, however, occasionally get to "I like this", which I deemed as success, considering I started from "I f'ing hate this!". Shin splints (which I later found were stress fractures) attempted to sideline me along the way, but with Callie's help I made it to the Finish Line. There are rumors that I uttered something like "I can't wait to do this again next year", but thankfully there's no actual proof!

This leads us to my latest adventure - the Susan G. Komen 3-Day.  Unlike other events, the 3-Day is truly not a race - it's a journey - a 60 mile journey! You wouldn't think you'd have to train for just walking, but you do (think blisters). Even then 20 miles doesn't seem like that big of a deal. That is until you realize that you're doing it all over again the next day AND the day after that...60 miles is a heck of a journey, and I cannot wait to take it!

My adventures have gone from a jog around the block, to 5k, to 10 miles, to 60 miles. What will your next adventure be?  

Who Is That?

I caught a glimpse of myself in the window as I was walking in to pick up the girls at school yesterday. I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me.  Actually, that's not true.  I recognized her all too well.  She looked entirely too much like somebody that I used to know (and no, I do not mean she resembled the sexy skinny chic that sings in that Gotye song).

I'd like to say I have no idea how this happened, but I'd be lying.  I know exactly how it happened.  After the Ten-Miler I was injured, burned out and busy.  I limited my running days to keep up with my life and my psyche.  Once I got the stress fracture diagnosis I slowed it down even more.  While taking time for recovery after an injury is certainly necessary, I took it a little too far - skipping classes, turning my runs in to walks and coming up with a million and one excuses ("moving all those boxes was a lot of work" - "I got my exercise today just going up and down the stairs a million times unpacking" - etc).  

The downfall of my healthy diet followed neatly behind my slacking exercise regimen.  While I didn't start hitting fast food drive thrus on a daily basis or anything, I did stop paying attention to what I was putting in my mouth.  You know how it is - a half a cookie here, a few Cheez-its there, just one more piece of pizza...

I haven't stepped on the scale yet.  I don't have to because I can tell from the way my clothes don't fit.  I'm not back to where I was before, but I will be soon if I don't get out of this rut.  Isn't it interesting how you it takes so long to get in shape but so little to get out of it?

Tomorrow is Friday.  If there's anything that can get me back into the groove it's one of Sandy's Outdoor Athletic Training classes.  McIntire Park - here I come! 

The Devil Made Me Do It

I'm so far behind on posting lately but I figured that I needed to let you all know that I did, indeed, complete the Charlottesville Ten Miler!!  It took me quite awhile - I crossed the Finish Line just before the race timer hit 2 hours! - but I did it and lived to tell about it so I accomplished my goal!

It was actually a really great experience.  After I crossed the Finish Line I told the Spicy Chicken that I thought I might like to do another one.  I now chalk that statement up to the delirium of just having run 10 miles and feeling pretty damn proud of myself at the moment, of course, but all in all it was a great morning. 


It didn't start out that way, though. 

Yep, that's my bib number - 666.  I'm not really a superstitious kind of girl but, 666? Really? You'd think race directors would skip over this number - like they do with 13th floors and things like that. Nope. Not this race at least.  And lucky me, I just happened to be the 666th person to register.  Guess that's one more lesson learned about not procrastinating.


I decided to do the Ten-Miler because I know I'm the type of person who functions better when I have a goal.  Going from a slow 5K runner to a 10-miler in a few months was probably an overly ambitious goal, but I needed something to re-energize my commitment and some added accountability. Once I registered and told all of you I was going to do it I couldn't turn back.


And I didn't. But I'd be lying if I said the thought didn't cross my mind a few (or maybe more than a few) times. Like the night before the race when The Spicy Chicken work up at 2am with abdominal pains and I caught myself saying (aloud) "Please let it be appendicitis!".  


Or...early the next morning as we sat in the parking lot of JPJ Arena and I said "We could just go out to breakfast..."


Or...at mile 5 when I passed the people sitting on the patio at The Nook drinking bloody mary's and seriously contemplated joining them...


But I didn't do anything of these things.  I kept on going - no matter how slowly - and I finished. I did it, I really, really did it! 

Big Changes

March has been a big month for me.  

The excitement started on March 9 when I celebrated my 39th birthday. You may recall  from last year that I kinda freaked out when I turned 30. Therefore, it would stand to reason that entering into my 40th year would be  traumatic.  Ironically, it's the opposite.  Life is good. I'm happy. And it's only getting better. If this is foresight as to what my 40's are going to be like then bring it on. And yes, I've been wearing that crown the entire month. 

I celebrated my birthday the way most people do - surrounded by friends, hanging out with family, and... buying the house of my dreams.  It's a 1960s fixer-upper, mind you, but it's truly the house that the Spicy Chicken and I have been dreaming of owning some day.  After 6 months of searching, waiting and saying "If one of these houses would just go on the market..." as we drove down Carrsbrook Drive our patience finally paid off.  I'm not sure who is more excited us or Sasha, as she's finally rid of us as clients (she is, however, stuck with us as friends forever).  

And while I wasn't exactly looking for a job (because I was too busy looking for a home) an amazing opportunity presented itself to me in that area this month, too. Earlier this month I started working for Jaggers Communications and MBPR & Marketing, two amazing small PR firms here in town owned by women I love and respect as friends and business women. I'm truly surrounded by greatness (and I'm not just saying that - check it out for yourself here, here, and here ) and feel honored to be a part of these teams.

And then there's the 10-Miler...the one negative in my fabulous month of March. The race itself is not a negative, of course.  Proceeds benefit lung cancer research at UVA Hospital and an anonymous donor has offered to match every single dollar raised by participants so it's obviously a really good thing. For me, however, it's a major stressor. I'm still not even sure if I will be able to cross the Finish Line because of my injuries.  


That being said, I've lined up a few friends to run with, bought a new running skirt that I feel really cute in (yes, Dan Schutte, that is truly part of  my race plan) and I'm just figuring all I can do is do the best I can.  And after the race is finally over I plan to celebrate my last few hours of March on Sunset Beach very with one of my very best friends drinking a few of these...

Yep, life is good.

Sad Face

I'm usually kind of a Pollyanna-type girl. You know -  glass half full, the sun will come out tomorrow, etc. Right now, however, I'm feeling much more like Oscar the Grouch.  

After months of training (albeit with quite a few ups and downs), lots of stretching, hours of icing and a band-aid or two the race is just 2 weeks away - and I'm injured.  

Last weekend my shins flared up so badly I was barely able to walk up the stairs, let alone run anywhere.  I took a few days off (even from cycling and walking Scout) hoping it would make a difference but a few hours after my run with Meghan on Tuesday I was in pain again.  After my workout with Callie on Thursday, where we did virtually nothing plyometric, I had to ice just to get to the bus stop. They hurt even when I wasn't putting any pressure on them (like when I was laying in bed whining to the Spicy Chicken).

I gave in and called the doctor.  He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know - it's probably just shin splints - rest for a few days - put ice on it - take some ibuprofen... 

The thing is, I don't have time to rest.  The race is just two weeks away!  I've been working so hard for this and now I find myself wondering if I will be able to do it at all.   I know it's just a race but it was a serious goal for me.  I want my girls to see that even though it wasn't easy I put my mind (and body) into it and that I can succeed at it.  I want to carry Chrissy's memory across that finish line with me.  I want to do it.

And you know I will.  Even if I have to load up on ibuprofen before the race, walk more miles than I run and spend the three days following the race with my legs in buckets of ice -  I'm going to do it.  (Just make sure you keep that glass of tequila more than half full for me at the beach, friends, because I'm going to need it!).

Setbacks

When I returned from Mexico I was ready to hit the ground running, literally.  

I'd taken a few days off from Clay during the last days of Chrissy's life because I wanted to be  with her and I was struggling to muster up the desire to do much of anything.  So after Mexico I had had almost two weeks off with the exception of a few less than stellar runs and a lot of walking with Scout to clear my head. 

Amazing how quickly your body forgets how hard you had worked.

Getting back into it was difficult, but I was ready and knew I needed to jump back in as quickly as possible if I was going to achieve my goal of crossing the finish line at the Cville Ten Miler.  

Then the cold hit.  Not the cold outside (though we did get 4 inches or so of glorious snow this week) but rather the dreaded winter chest cold.  You know he kind that is just bad enough for you to feel like shit but not bad enough to convince yourself that you need to take it easy?  That's the one I got.  And it nestled itself in my chest long and hard enough that going up and down the stairs in our house was difficult, let alone running 5 1/2 miles.  

So, there I was with yet another setback.  I was frustrated to say the least.  So when I woke up Thursday morning I was honestly ready to call it quits.  No way could I make it through the short run I was supposed to do on Tuesday, let alone the long one I needed to do today - and the Ten Miler was only 6 weeks away. I'd never be ready in time.  


But, like I've said before, part of this health journey thing is just getting up off your ass so that is what I did.

I wasn't sure my lungs could handle a run yet so decided that walking the Saunders-Monticello Trail would at least challenge me a little. While it's technically only a 2 mile trail (one way) you can add half a mile each way if you park in the lower lot and run all the way up to the Monticello Visitor's Center and it's uphill the entire first half. If nothing else I'd work my calves out a little.


Then the weridest thing happen. As I started up the trail I felt like running.  Yes, I actually felt like running.  So I did.  Okay, maybe "running" is a strong word for what I was doing, but it surely wasn't walking anymore.  I made it to the top averaging 11.5mph.  It's not record-breaking speed, but it was more than I'd anticipated I'd be able to do and, I was still alive at the top.  My heart rate averaged 94% of max., of course, but somehow I survived.

The best thing about the Saunders-Monticello Trail is that after you run all the way up on the first half you get to run all the way back down!  This half I averaged 8.5mph, which I realize is normal for a lot of runners on flat and hills, but was fast for me (recall that though I am running 3 times I week I do not consider myself a runner yet, as I'm certain real runners do not whine as much as I do nor move as slowly as I do).  I was able to keep my heart rate at 86% the whole time and I can even say I kind of enjoyed myself.

Saturday I have to bump up to 5.8 miles and Tuesday up to 6.4 if I'm to keep up with the training program Callie set up prior to all hell breaking loose.  Am I worried?  A little, but I also know that this is a personal goal, not a race I plan to break any records at or anything like that.  I promised Chrissy I'd take her with across the finish line, but I never promised I'd do it fast!

The Finish Line

It is taking everything in my power not to climb back into bed this morning.  It's rainy, gloomy and there's a mountain of laundry staring back at me.  Oh, and then there's that whole funeral thing...

Many of you know that my dear friend Chrissy passed away earlier this week after a long, hard-fought battle with cancer.  Needless to say, it's been a tough week.  It's actually been a tough couple of months as Chrissy, true to her self, battled hard against this disease even when it was raging through her entire body, refusing to let go until she was ready.  That's our girl. If there was one thing you could say about Chrissy it was that she was strong. And stubborn...And smart...And beautiful...And amazing...

We were extremely fortunate that Chrissy's family opened their home to us during the last few days of her life.  Our friends spent every moment possible with them from the time she fell into a coma until she took her final breaths.  We took turns sitting by her bedside all weekend long. My girlfriends and I were able to hang out with her for hours, talking about our memories with her, giving her the lowdown on what was going on in our lives, telling her how much we loved her and how proud we were of her and assuring her that it was okay for her to let go now.  She didn't like that last one, of course, and occasionally let us know about it with a long, hard sigh that sometimes sounded like "Noooo!"  

These are conversations you never really expect to have with a friend at my age - Chrissy was just 41.  I will miss my friend immensely - the way she got things done when nobody else could - the way she smiled - the way she wasn't afraid to take on anything (including cancer and the greased watermelon contest at the club!).  My sadness, however, is much greater for her family than myself.  If the pain in my heart is this great, theirs must be unimaginable.  I don't doubt her husband's ability to handle things, but I weep for the fact that he has to. And I know her kids will not only survive, they will excel (these are Chrissy's kids, after all) but I ache because she won't be there to see it.  

Chrissy was a great athlete and had a love for running that, hard as I try, I will never have.  Even when cancer was trying to beat her down, she'd don her running shoes and push herself as far as her body allowed. I promised I'd take her with me when I cross the finish line at the C'ville Ten Miler - even if it means I have to crawl!

In Chrissy's memory I will be doing the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Colorado June 23-24, the Susan G. Komen 3-Day in Washington D.C. October 12-14 and, of course, the Women's 4 Miler (as my friends have done for years).  While I know it won't change Chrissy's fate my hope is that it will change that of someone else.


We miss you so much Chrissy, but you will always and forever be in our hearts.  I have no doubt that you are already up in heaven seeking out a position on the Board of Directors, organizing a Sweet Adelines Chapter, and showing the boys a thing or two on the volleyball court.  I know you will have things whipped into shape by the time we get there.  In the meantime we will try to uphold your legacy down here (but if you're expecting me to get the FV BOD Minutes out in a timely fashion you might be waiting awhile).  I will see you at the Finish Line.

10 Miles

Well, I did it - I registered for the Charlottesville Ten Miler!  

Truth be told I was really hoping to do a half marathon this year, but Hyam and Callie thought given my current maximum distance of much less than 13.1 miles, my propensity for shin splints and the fact that the race is a mere 4 months away it was in my best interest to shoot for the 10-Miler instead.  


I'm not going to lie - I was a little disappointed when I heard their idea.  I mean - ten miles is a great race but a half marathon? Now that's kick ass.  


Nevertheless, I trust them. So at the start of the month I embarked on a new training plan designed to get me to 10 miles by the March 31 race day.  The plan incorporates a 10% distance increase each week, as well as the current training I am doing at Clay of one day of each cycling, personal training and athletic training.  The days I'm not at Clay I focus on one "Short" run and one "Long" run and two "Rest" days. Wow - that sounds like a helluva lot of training.  Who knew I was so bad ass? 


Ideally I would be doing yoga or pilates on my "Rest" days. But at this point I feel that getting out of bed on those days is a feat in itself so finding my inner chi is going to have to sit on the backburner for awhile. 


Half way through week three of training things are going pretty well.  I'm still standing, haven't cried once and as long as I ice, stretch, foam roll and use the "Tiger Tail Rolling Muscle Massager" (love this thing!) religiously my shins don't hurt too much. While I don't think I'll ever be one of those people who loves to run (because I still kinda hate it) I'm up to 3.6 miles and I'm not whining too much yet.  Hey, maybe I'll train for a full marathon next year....


Just kidding!

Run Amy Run

I received an e-mail from a friend a week ago entitled "Marathon".  At first I thought she'd sent it to the wrong person.  As I continued to read, however, I realized she was actually asking me to consider doing a marathon with her.  A marathon?  Who was she kidding?  A marathon is 26  miles!  I can barely handle the 3 I do now. No freaking way!

But 12 hours later I couldn't get the thought out of my head. A marathon. How amazing would that be?  Wait - what did I just say?  I have friends who are marathoners and I've always told them that as amazing as I think they are, I think they're equally as crazy.  My father-in-law is a marthoner.  He's 2 inches shorter than me and weighs at least 50 pounds less. Running comes naturally to him.  He's even built like a marathoner.  I, on the other hand, am built more like a sumo wrestler.

I have a long list of things I'd like to be able to say I did someday. Running a marathon has never been one of them.  Now, however, I can't get it out of my head.  I made the mistake of mentioning this to Hyam who, of course, thought it was a fabulous idea!  Before I knew it she had me committing to a training group for the Charlottesville Ten-Miler.  Wait, I'm running the Charlottesville Ten-Miler???

So I'm NOT committing to anything further than 10 miles yet, but that marathon is in the back of my mind pecking away at me.  26 miles.  That'd be all the way to Crozet and back! Wow, that's a long way.