The Kindness of Strangers

The Scotia Bank Half Marathon was quite the experience for this Joe Runner. I learned a lot about myself, my hamstrings, and - most importantly, the human heart.

I'm thankful to Asics and Forerunners for their generosity in getting me geared up for the race. Thank you to Mike Campbell-Burns, our gregarious coach who helped inspire us Joe Runners before and during the half marathon.

I'm thankful for the experience itself- being healthy enough and just crazy enough to take on this challenge!

The race itself was gorgeous. I'm not just talking about the sunshine, the cool breeze, or the several thousand other runners who ran with me last Sunday morning.

The really gorgeous part? That was the volunteers - especially the young people and kids who stood supporting us on the sidelines. Offering water, gatorade, gel packs. A group of young adults with spray bottles around the 17km mark (and PLEASE, organizers, can you order a few hundred MORE of those and set them up along the course!?!?!). Strangers cheering us on during the last few kms or those painful last few hundred meters.

The smiling folks at the medical aid station. The overly handsome police officer directing traffic (Don't worry, husband, I had sunscreen running into my eyes at that point and chocolate gel smeared over my left cheek). The volunteers at the finish line who clapped for every man, woman, and child who crossed/staggered/ rolled/ tripped their way across the finish line.

I thought the race was over at 9:30 that Sunday morning. But I was mistaken. When I dragged myself up the stairs on Tuesday morning and logged on to my computer, I was floored by the generosity of my charity's sponsors.

Friends, family, co-workers had all chipped in. But there were others. In my case, three perfect strangers who had donated huge dollars in support of teen adoption.

I'm thankful to Chuck Reid, Stephen Langhjelm and Peter Van Diepen, who together donated almost $500 towards the Adoptive Families Association of BC's teen adoption program. I couldn't believe it. These three gentlemen are strangers to me.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

Today I'm heading out for my first long run since the half marathon. There's an extra spring in my step knowing that the kindness of strangers really made this run a success.

Smile while you still can!

I may have had mixed emotions in the days leading up to the half marathon, but by 6:30am Sunday morning, I felt nothing but sheer excitement. The energy at the start line was truly tangible – if I wasn’t already pumped by the time my dear fiancé dropped me off, I certainly was by the time the race began!

Some wonderful things happened before the race even commenced. As I approached the excruciatingly long queue for the port-o-potties, a kind stranger mentioned that there were more loos just around the corner with no line-ups, proper indoor facilities no less! I made sure to spread the word on my way back to the start line.

As I scoured the crowd for my fellow Joe Runners (whom I never did find), I could not help but smile as my adrenaline built watching everyone in their final stages of warm-up. A seemingly well-seasoned runner gently touched my shoulder as he worked his way through the crowd and said, “Smile while you still can!”

The wisdom behind these words stayed with me throughout the race. Whenever I felt my feet begin to hurt as they pounded the pavement, or I became aware of the burning in my thighs, I thought, “But can I still smile?” And low and behold… I could. So I did. Smiling seemed to alleviate any discomfort my mind sought to feel in my physical body. I'm sure there's a life lesson in that.

The support from the side of the road also made it easy to keep that smile on my face. I felt so blessed to have my wonderful husband-to-be, and our amazing pal Cindy, follow the race course on their bicycles. Every 3-4km, they would pop out to hand me sunglasses (most appreciated!), take my picture, or just cheer me on… so much love and support! To think that they woke up before 6 o’clock on a Sunday morning to ride over 25km just to cheer me on is overwhelming – thank you guys.

And it wasn’t just my personal support team that kept me going… I wonder if the crowd of spectators realize the full impact of their encouragement. At first I was confused to hear someone I didn’t know shout out, “Looking strong Julie, you can do this!” until I remembered my name was on my race bib. I soon came to appreciate this brief interaction with total strangers – when else would that happen?? I also got a real kick out of some of the signs that people brought with them: “Where’s everyone going?” and “Worst Parade Ever!” were two of my favourites.

To answer the question “Boot camp: Boost or Bust?” I respond with a resounding, “Boost!” During the uphill slog at the 13k mark, and heading up over the Burrard Street Bridge at 18k, I felt a surge of power throughout my entire body. Many people opted to walk these more arduous sections, as did I when I ran this race three years ago, but this past Sunday I felt the unfamiliar exhilaration of flying past other runners on the incline… it felt amazing! I have no doubt this intensity can be attributed to boot camp.

I wondered a few times along the way if I should push harder but I didn’t want to risk hitting that wall and burning out before I reached the finish line. Nor did I want to feel nauseous and light-headed, thus not able to enjoy the journey. So I forged ahead, smiling because I could, and took it all in: the beautiful weather, the spectacular scenery, the supurb bands, the camaraderie between runners and spectators – it was all so mind-blowing. True, I may have been able to finish with a faster time but I’m glad I was able to sprint the last couple hundred meters without the urge to vomit. I still beat my last time by 1 min and 15 seconds and, best of all, as I crossed the finish line I thought, “I would totally do that again!”

Thank you to everyone who played a role in helping me along this journey: my family and friends for their physical & emotional support over the past 6 months; my sponsors who pledged $650 to the Tapestry Foundation for Healthcare; the good people at SVHM (and Asics and Forerunners) for the opportunity to hone my skills as a Joe Runner; my fellow Joe Runners for their inspiring and entertaining blogs; my chiropractor, naturopath, yoga teachers and trainers for ensuring that my body kept up with my training; and, last but not least, I need to recognize my late pup Baxter... memories of you kept me going Puppydog.

So... when's the next Half? :)

Success Comes In Cans

Success comes in cans, not in cannots.

I can be proud of my training.
I can feel accomplished with how far I have come.
I can accept that my health and well being is extremely important.
I can support other runners. I can support meaningful causes.
I can remember the goals I hit along the way. I can encourage others.

I can appreciate the support I have received. I can still love running.
I can look forward to my return to the shoes. I can be at the finish line.
I can cheer. I can celebrate. I can feel the spirit in the air on race day.
I can set new goals. I can challenge. I can be challenged.

I can feel a little sad that I'm not crossing the line tomorrow. I can be happy for those that do.
I can visualize the power behind my strides when I get to finish my half marathon.
I can high five the finishers. I can high five my family who journeys with me.
I can enjoy an amazing event that brings communities together.
I can be grateful for all the special moments along my journey as a runner.

I can realize that my journey as a runner has just begun.
I can smile at all the seasoned runners that cross the line first.
I can smile at all the runners that cross the line last.
I can smile at all the runners in between.
I can smile at the runner in the mirror who stares at me with such gratitude.
I can thank her for not giving up.
I can look to the future with her.
I can thank her for saying "When can I?" instead of "I cannot".
I can be successful.
I am a success.

The real finish line is the journey along the way

After six months of training, race day is right around the corner... I can’t quite believe it. People keep asking if I’m excited for Sunday but I don’t really know how to respond - is excited the word? Anxious might be more accurate: Am I ready? Can I do this? What if, what if, what if…???

I’m trying to keep myself in check by remembering my favourite quote: “Focus on the journey, not the destination.” Six months of training – running 3, 4, sometimes 5 times a week - THAT’s what matters, not the time it takes to cross that finish line.

Along the way, I managed to surpass my fundraising goal of $500. My team, The Tapestry Trailblazers, (supporting dementia care research) has over 100 runners; together we’ve raised almost $60,000… THAT’s something of which to be proud. Whether it takes me 2h10min (my optimistic goal), or a full 3 hours, it doesn’t actually matter.

Thus far I’ve met at least 3 goals: train regularly, avoid injury, and fundraise at least $500. Am I excited for the race? I’m not sure. But when I hit that 14k mark, and the finish line seems unreachable, I will remember that I've already reached 3 finish lines and simply enjoy the journey.

Enjoy the journey everyone! Hope to see you there :)

Attention Vicarious Runners

I'm counting down the hours to the run this Sunday morning. I'd like to say the path has been as straight and narrow as the tracks in this photograph, but there's a side to my running journey that I really should discuss. In doing so, I'm also calling out all of you who are running vicariously this Sunday.

Twenty years ago, I was diagnosed with type one diabetes. At the time, the advice was to "take care of your feet!". Believe it or not, that advice also included "no long distance running" -- or face the wrath of my future podiatrist.

Can you believe how far we've come in twenty years? I'm now the proud owner of an insulin pump, and am competing in my first half marathon.

I know I'm not the only runner who manages a chronic condition. Out on the course this Sunday, will be other diabetics, runners with pace makers, folks with joint and back problems, cancer survivors and organ recipients.

And guess what? We're all part of the Scotia Team. If you're lucky enough to be in perfect health and are thinking "Man, I wish I could run a half marathon" then what's stopping you?

If you have a medical condition (and your doctor's blessing!!!) then come out and join all of us who are running in spite of ourselves. If not this Sunday for the event, then tomorrow, on your own, or with a buddy. For your own sake.

See you at the start line... or catch me at the finish line. Either way, I'm hoping to share the road with you soon. To all you vicarious runners out there, what's stopping you? Lace up your Asics, and hit the road running.

The Ripple Effect

Imagine my surprise when I learned that my running had been inspiration for another. Me! A Joe Runner. Just a run-of-the-mill beginner.

A friend/neighbour of mine was impressed with my last run of just over 17 kilometers. As a PE teacher for a local school, she spontaneously organized a sleep over that ended with a run to school the next morning. She said it was completely inspired by me and she challenged her run club to complete the 20 kilometer distance.

Surely there had been some mistake. I am not an inspiring runner (or so I thought). She assured me there was no mistake. My determination and perseverance had inspired her to push herself and encourage her students to do the same. (They all did great, by the way)

What an amazing feeling. I had inspired others in the world of running. I suppose I had never questioned where my inspirations for running came from (and there have been many). I have found motivation and inspiration from many sources, many people of many sizes, abilities and backgrounds, and at many different times. So, who am I to question myself as an inspiration to others?

I am proud of what I have accomplished thus far and I am proud that my journey can help encourage others to stretch their comfort zone, inspire a challenge, or spark an interest.

" Welcome to the Ripple Effect. What you say, what you don't say; what you do, what you don't do; causes a Ripple Effect. The question is, ' How big of a Ripple will you make?' and 'What kind of a Ripple Effect will you make' "

Sometimes, more often than not, we have no idea how far our Ripples will reach. I love the thought of that. I imagine they go on and on and on...

If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck...

As suspected, my bone scan confirmed stress fractures. Fractures in each of my tibias.

My doctor has advised me to stay away from weight bearing activities as much as possible while resting up. I am to walk for necessity only (not fitness) until the pain disappears. Once I can stand, use stairs, and walk without pain, I can start walking for fitness, try the eliptical and see how things go. If everything is progressing alright and pain free, I can slowly start back in to running.

She suggested using a stationary bicycle to maintain the cardio status I had worked up to, but to be cautious not to jump full force back in to running once pain subsides. I was cautioned not to think I could hit the ground running where I left off but that it would be a slow "from scratch" sort of process to ease back in to it.

This is pretty much the news I was expecting but I still felt completely deflated hearing it. It is official; my Half Marathon dream is deferred. Most of me had already accepted this, but a small part was hanging on.

To train so hard and so long for seemingly no reason at all is difficult to swallow. But there are many reasons. The half marathon was a small part of something much larger.

My training has brought me a new level of health and wellness. I have hit new heights of determination. I have discovered a new passion. I have learned more about myself. I have received more footrubs in the past few weeks than I thought my husband was capable of :-)

This race is still a part of me. I am still a "Joe Runner" - my story just happens to follow a bit different of a path than some others. I will be at that finish line to cheer for and congratulate my fellow Joes (and so many other runners that make it!). I will be proud of them, and proud of myself, for training so hard, supporting great causes, and appreciating each step of the journey.

Better than a Buddha Belly

Whiny woman alert: 

I'm not fitting into my pants any better then I did before training started. Somehow, I believed that pounding the pavement (and gravel, and track, and grassy fields) might cure me of my Slurpee-induced Buddha belly. It has not.

I have stronger legs, a better lung capacity, and a heightened ability to chase my toddler. But I do not have the sculpted abdomen of an Olympic beach volleyball player.  

I protest.

But before I collapse into a puddle of self-pity, I must remind myself of why I really signed up. If I was running for a toned torso, I would have raised the white flag and hung my shoes up weeks ago.

When I started this journey, I knew I needed something more tangible, more permanent, more worthy than a self-absorbed motivation to get these feet moving.

Luckily, I picked a great charity and an awesome cause to get me moving.

So when ten kilometres becomes fifteen, and fifteen rolls into twenty, and twenty stretches towards the finish line, I think about the people close to me and the families I've met.

First, there's my three year old son, who inspires me every day. Then five of my siblings, who also joined our family through adoption. My father-in-law, my teen-age cousin, my countless foster siblings who have moved on to join new families through the miracle of adoption. Finally, the families I've met in my first two years here at the Adoptive Families Association of BC.

If I need a smile for every mile, or a story to inspire each kilometre, I don't have to look far for inspiration.

And I'll take that (and a slurpee!) over a washboard stomach any day.

JyOGa

Around the time I decided to try my hand (feet?) at running, I also found yoga. I find the two activities really complement each other well. Yin and yang, I guess.

One obvious benefit to practicing yoga while training for a race is the stretching. In addition to the usual 5-10 minute stretch immediately following a run, 60-90 minutes of yoga a few times a week really serves to lengthen the muscles and brings them more oxygen to help with recovery. I rarely feel muscle fatigue or stiffness following long or intense run - a definite bonus.

Another clear connection is with regard to breathing. Yoga IS breathing. And running (among other things) is a whole lot easier when you breathe – go figure. Conscious control of your breath (through yoga) soon leads to more efficient unconscious breathing (helpful when running).

Lately, in an effort to improve my form, I’ve been trying to focus on bringing other elements of my yoga practice into my running. One “trick” that I find particularly helpful is to use a yoga mudra (hand gesture) while I run. I bring the tip of each index finger to meet the tip of each thumb to form a circle (the other 3 fingers remain loosely extended) and turn my palms slightly upward. This encourages my shoulders to release down my back and opens my chest, thus keeps me running with a taller more relaxed frame. It also prevents me from clenching my hands into fists… instead of wasting energy by clenching, I re-circulate that energy through the finger-tip circle.

With two weeks to go, I’m using every trick I can to make it across that finish line injury-free. Stretching, breathing, improved form, and energy conservation all seem like good “tricks” to achieve this goal. So far so good.

Got Your "Bak"?

One thing that has made my running experience much easier has been the encouragement and support of my family.

So, it was a delight when, for my very first Mother's Day this year, they gave me a gift that has made my running experience even more enjoyable. My daughter (perhaps with a little help from my husband) gave me a CamelBak Hydration Pack.

If I had to review this item with one word... wow.

I have never run out of water while running, I don't even feel the pack on me as I run. There is no bulk of a waist belt with water bottles bouncing against my body. I don't have to wear a jacket on hot days in order to keep a small water bottle in my pocket. I don't have to stop during "race day" runs to hydrate out of paper cups that litter the ground. Nor do I have to learn how to drink while running so as not to spill, find a spot to "pull over" in order to stop and chug back my cup of water, or plan minutes in advance my crowd navigation skills to make it over to a hydration station (and back into the flow again). No more playing frogger with other runners or drinkers.

Quite simply, I get to just run, sip, run. Fantastic.

Rested Feet, Heavy Heart

I had no idea what I was in for when I added running to my life. Many things were to be expected, but loving it was not one of them. And love it I do.

This is news to me. I didn't realize just how much I love it, until I was told to stop.

The pain and associated issues I'd been experiencing with my legs was continuously explained away by many fellow runners as shin splints. As the pain worsened (to excrutiating) and I began to have more trouble walking, going up and down stairs, standing up, and (the final straw) holding my baby girl, I decided a visit to the doctor was warranted.

I was given a diagnosis of stress fractures, to be confirmed (or my hope was unconfirmed) by a bone scan. I was told to stop running and that the Half Marathon would not be an option. I expected it to take weeks to get in for the bone scan and began to contemplate my options.

If stress fractures were not yet confirmed, perhaps I could cross train my heart out until race day then do the best run I could, hoping my bones had healed enough to withstand and my cardio could keep up. This as not a practical or sensible way of thinking. But the only thought in my mind was: I AM NOT GIVING UP ON THIS RUN.

The hospital phoned the very next day and asked if I could come in the following morning. Being injected with radioactive something or other was intimidating to me. I know it is a small amount and totally harmless and medically necessary, etc. but that didn't change the fact that they were injecting me with something that would not make it possible to nurse my daugher for 24-48 hours. (My daughter who has taken a number of bottles I could count on one or two hands since she was born). I did have brief moments of fun with the thought tossing comments to my husband every so often like "maybe I'll glow at night...".

The bone scan was a long process as I had to be injected, get scanned, wait a few hours, then return for another (longer) scan. The tech. that completed it was very nice and indicated to me that there did seem to be fractures but to be sure to wait for the "official results" from my doctor.

I felt broken. Not just in my legs, but all over. I still had hope that I could rest for maybe a week and would be miraculously healed by the time I had to go over the results with my doctor and she would clear me for take off. It's been a week. My legs are still in pain, causing incredible discomfort, and my scan results have not been sent to the doctor's office yet.

My feet are rested, but my heart is heavy. However, after the initial whirlwind of emotions that went along with this hurdle (not to mention tears into my husband's waiting arms), I am starting to feel positive. I did not give up on this run or quit. I am simply putting my health and well being first. One of the reasons I began running was to improve and maintain my health and well being. Why would I jeopardize that now?

I thank my husband for helping me realize that. In talks with him, I came to realize that nothing is being taken away from me... my Half Marathon run is just postponed. And that is okay. It will happen and I can look forward to it all over again. Once I heal, I will get back out there, and I will reach my goal of completing a Half Marathon. This run, just wasn't mine.

Farmer Joe Vs. Joe Runner

Last week I met with our trainer, Mike, for a rapid-fire coaching session. I learned a lot, and was inspired to take my run further. I came out ready to leap completely into the world of outdoor running.

I'm blessed to live near beaches, farmland, and hills - and on Sunday I decided to go the hillbilly route and enjoy a run through the farms.

Sometimes I wonder if I was dropped on my head as a child.

Sunday was a beautiful sunshiney day. And what do you think a farmer might do on a beautiful sunshiney day in early June? Does he hide inside his big farm house, or tend to the cows and chickens? Does he re-thread his fiddle or re-shoe the horses?

Noooo, the farmer is on his tractor, spreading potent manure all over his fields. And I, like the town nitwit, am running next to his farm. I don't think it was the worst possible circumstances for a run. I wasn't escaping mosquitoes or dodging traffic. There was no rain, sleet, or snow to contend with. I wasn't being chased by a renegade Rottweiler.

But still. It stunk. And that stinks.

I managed to log 16km on Sunday. Not quite the 18 or 20 I was hoping for, but not bad considering Farmer Joe was out flexing his manure muscles.

Here's to another farm-fresh run... and a few more miles on my training log.

Boot Camp: Boost or Bust?

In an effort to boost my fitness level and in turn (hopefully) my speed, I decided to pump up my training to include an early morning boot camp 3 days a week. I’m now questioning the wisdom of this decision. Yesterday’s long run was by far my toughest run yet, and it was by no means my longest, fastest or most hilly. It was just difficult, I think largely due to my increased training.

Each boot camp begins with a warm-up followed by a half hour of mostly hills and interval running. The next half hour concentrates on strength training and core work. It’s pretty intense, especially since we meet at 6am. At least we never have to shout, “YES DRILL SERGEANT!”

Brutal though it may be, boot camp certainly does invigorate. I feel energized and empowered for the rest of the day. And I have little doubt the end results will be favourable. That said, it has thrown a hitch in my run schedule - I’m struggling to adjust my regularly planned runs so that I maintain momentum without over-doing it.

Last week, with two boot camp classes under my belt, I went out for my usual run and felt like I was wearing cement shoes. After ten very strenuous and perplexing minutes, I realized that this must be the effects of boot camp. I decided to back off and turned my 40-minute run into a 90-minute power walk. Luckily I had the extra time to do that.

On Sunday, I planned an 18k run as my last long training run before the race. I somewhat-optimistically scheduled for two hours but I guess I should have left those cement shoes at home because after two hours I had only covered 14k. Even knowing the contributing factors (ie. boot camp and warmer temperatures – finally!), it was still discouraging.

Boot camp wraps up two days before Race Day. Will it be the boost I needed or will it bust me up? I’ll let you know in three weeks.

My solo mission, which I chose to accept

When I first started running a few years ago, I found that I desperately needed the camaraderie of a running group or buddy. Running on my own was a well-intended option that rarely worked out.

While I could find any excuse in the book to skip my solo run, I would not let my buddy down by cancelling our weekly date. Nor would I often miss a group run - since I paid for the clinic, I wanted to get my money’s worth! Besides, the social aspect was a real bonus. I met many new friends during this period, and strengthened some existing friendships as we tackled our runs together. The problem was: it became a chore… just another thing I “HAD” to do. I started to dread each and every run so, last year, I decided to take a break. I did not run for nine months.

Then last winter someone mentioned the Scotiabank Half Marathon and, for once, I did not cringe. In fact, I felt strangely compelled to make the commitment. I registered almost immediately but decided to take a different approach with the training… this time, I’m doing it on my own.

I researched some training plans and put together one that would work me, usually 3-4 runs each week. With the exception of perhaps 6-8 runs over the past 5 months, they have all been solo missions. And with the aid of some super-motivating playlists on my iPod, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed most of them – even the tough ones, ESPECIALLY the tough ones! I feel so damn proud of myself when I conquer a tough run, in the rain, when I really, really didn’t want to do it. Go Team Me!

No one else cares if I run or if I bail… it doesn’t affect anyone other than me. If I let myself down, I feel like crap… and I don’t want to feel like crap. So I honour my commitment to myself and I run. And I like it… whether I want to or not :)

Baby, You Were Born to Run

Some people are born runners. Others are made. Many, like me, come to the running world reluctantly. Few seem ready to leap from the womb to the marathon course. Somehow I ended up parenting one.

My son is one of those ready-made champions. As an infant, his feet would rustle in his crib, alerting us that he was ready to roll for the day. 

He walked a little late, and stumbled for many months before getting his footing on the world. Once he had it down, though, there was no stopping him.

He's been running for about 2 years straight now. My best estimate is that he's completed more half marathons then most of the Scotia Bank participants. The two year long race has just been broken up by trips in the car seat, moments strapped into his high chair, or sleep breaks in between. 

Noah has two speeds: lightning fast, and dead stop.

It might be a few years before he's ready to officially register for a half marathon. But I'm pretty sure he'd ace the course, if only his legs were long enough to carry him uninterrupted across the 13 miles.

Fuchsia's a Nice Shade.. but I'm Going for Green and Blue.

Before my training, I had ten unpainted, rather boring toenails. I'm a type I diabetic, so I've always kept a close eye on my feet. The toes weren't beautiful, but they were clean. They were loved. 

Unfortunately, when the running intensified, so did the scare factor of my feet. There's a reason running shoe manufacturers don't sell see-through footwear. That reason includes blisters, callouses, and of course - purple toenails.  

I like a little colour in my life, but I could do without the fuchsia on my feet. (Maybe I just need an upgrade on my footwear... I'm really looking forward to my first pair of Asics!)

Guess it's time for some vibrant nail polish... perhaps a little blue and green in honour of our Canucks?

Running for Water, Running for Me

I ran in Abbotsford's Run for Water yesterday. It was a 10k run, which is nothing new to me, with a start and finish at the beautiful Mill Lake.

I had a tough time getting started. With my legs still bothering me, the warmest day I've experienced in my running career so far, and noone I knew running with me, I felt defeated before kilometer 1. Fortunately, just as I was starting to question if I would be able to run another race (this being my second one ever), I heard someone call my name. There, running beside me, was Linda who had been one of my Team Leaders from the Sun Run training clinic I had completed.

As it turned out, this was her very first race/running event without her good friend who usually ran with her. She had been contemplating staying home, and I had been contemplating walking. I can not convey the emotional relief I felt when she said "You know what? I'm sticking with you today". We decided to motivate each other. She stuck by me the entire run, and I could not be more thankful. She kept me going and says I kept her going too.

As we were discussing motivation and the importance of going at your own pace, etc. a gentleman came from behind us and hared a little wisdom. He had overheard our conversation and said " You know some great advice someone told me once when I was starting out? This is your run. Noone elses. It belongs to you. However you run it is great and that's how it is supposed to be run".

Even though I have run a top distance of 17.3 kilometers so far for my training, I still found it a challenge to complete a 10K. Maybe it was the heat. Perhaps it was the route. I believe it was all mental. I had myself mentally prepared to run 10 kilometers and that was it. I think, for me, there's something to that. I had no more of a challenge running 17(.3!)k for a training run and I think it's because that is what I knew I had to do. I was mentally prepared to run 16K that day and that was all tehre was to it. As hard as I may try, I can't argue with my own mind. My body may try though.

My run buddy kept a smile on my face, kept me distracted with conversation, and kept me on task with pace and energy conservation. What a blessing she was to me. We agreed we were meant to meet that day and our purpose was to support each other. Support each other we did.
For 10 kilometers.

My usual supporters were at the finish line; My husband greeted me with a huge smile, wave and camera in hand as I ran by. My baby girl was sitting happily on the grass, thrilled to see "Momma" back in her world.

Another first for me happened yesterday... a medal! All finishers got a medal. I wore mine proudly ALL DAY LONG :-) It was an emotional finish because I was handed a medal, I had such a struggle at the start, I had been given a wonderful friend to help me through, and I was questioning if I would be able to run a Half Marathon (it still seems daunting to me). I was overcome with emotion.

I was happy to run for such a good cause, bringing clean drinking water to those that need it most. I was also happy to realize that I was running for me. I was not running for time (I never do - and this seems odd to a lot of runners I talk with), I was not running to impress others, I was not running against anyone else.

I was running for ME. Because, after all, this was my run. Noone elses. This run belonged to me.

One giant leap forward, many tiny steps in pain...

This week I ran farther than I ever have before. 17.3 kilometers (giant leap forward). I have also been experiencing something I never have before. Shin splints (many tiny steps in pain).

My training for the Sun Run this past April had proved challenging but painless for me. With the many lurking potential "dangers" of running I'd been warned about, I considered myself one of the lucky ones not to have encountered any of them. Then my first experience with blisters hit. These were not like any blisters I had experienced in my life. These were painful, made running uncomfortable, and rendered me shoeless for the better part of a rainy few weeks. After switching running shoe insoles, investing in new running socks and some heavy applications of Body Glide to my feet I was ready to, well, hit the ground running. Perhaps with a little satisfaction that I had overcome a "real" runner problem.

Enter the pain of shin splints. They started off relatively tolerable, and I figured I maybe just hadn't stretched properly before a run. Steadily, the pain increased along with the distance. I actually had no idea what I was experiencing until I started describing the pain and sensations to people. The overwhleming response was "Oh, that's shin splints - you've never had those?!?". Eager to know how to rid myself of the discomfort, I consulted with my most knowledgeable, dependable source: Google. The more I read, the worse I felt. The most frequent advice was to rest up, stop running, slow down, choose other cross-training activities.... basically everything that would impede my continued training and progression.

I find myself in excrutiating pain at times, walking strangely around the house (especially going up and down the stairs) and spending a lot more time crawling around with my 7.5 month old rather than walking. I have been able to find some relief with elevation, icing, ibuprofen, and stretching thought all these remedies only offer temporary comfort. I have been given some stengthening exercises, stretches, and muscle activation techniques to try before my runs. When I began my 17.3 kilometer (yes, I must include the .3 as it also adds some sense of satisfaction or pride) run this week, I was nearly in tears for the first 25 to 30 minutes or so. My legs were betraying me. I was mentally cursing my shins and how they could do this to me when I was so close to my Half Marathon goal. I realized I could not lift my foot or my toes off the ground on my right side. The muscles simply wouldn't work. I started to panic and think maybe I had done permanent damage to myself. I kept trying and it kept hurting, and resisting. I pushed through and felt my foot flop down with each step as I ran. Eventually, without my noticing, the muscles loosened up and I regained some motion in my foot. I continued to run and finished strong - 17.3 kilometers from home.

My wonderfully supportive husband was to meet me at a predetermined destination to ensure I had travelled my required 16k. I made sure he clocked the distance (using the odometer in the car) from our driveway and took my exact same route. I knew where the 10k distance was, so we guessed where the end point might be and an approximate time and agreed to make cell phone contact when I was nearing one or the other. When I arrived, I felt it likely wasn't far enough so I kept going and we stayed in phone contact as I kept running, until he passed me. He was to stop and pull over when the odometer hit 16k (it was around 14.8 when he passed me). I was excited to be so close to the end and ready to celebrate my victory of travelling so far! Wouldn't you know it, at the exact moment my husband was turning around in a parking lot to get back to where I could see him, I passed him, and my cell phone died. Completely. And this is how my 16k run became 17.3. I really have no concept of distance but at that point decided I had to have hit the mark and had somehow missed my husband. I kept running until I found a place to use a telephone. So, I dutifully stretched outside the Home Depot until my Knight in Shining Pontiac Sunfire came rolling by to rescue me.

The upside? I'm now pretty confident I will be able to complete my 18 kilometer run that is coming up in the next couple weeks.

I continue to struggle with the horror that is shin splints and try to wish them away on a daily basis. Cardio-wise, I could keep running. Mentally, I've got it all there. I was actually ENJOYING running. It was finally starting to be everything I had dreamed and felt it would be for me - until the pain set in. Now, I struggle through the beginning until my legs hit a sort of wall of numbness and I can continue without thinking of how sore I am with every laboured step. That is not how I want to run. I want the enjoyment back. I want to start off feeling great!

I am participating in the 10k event for the Run for Water in Abbotsford this weekend. It will be my second official race and I can only hope my legs allow my mind to take over. My body may try to tell me to give up, but my mind wont let me. My mind is strong... my heart and passion keep it that way.

The Hills are Alive... and They're Out to Get Me!

I've been hill training this week, trying to convert my treadmill-spoiled body into one that's ready for the great outdoors. Yes, I know the half marathon course is rated as a "downhill" experience. But I have to get this body ready to contend with wind, rain, and a few bumps in the road.

I'll admit it, the hills I'm running along aren't as steep as the one in the picture. But I do live in a rather hilly town, and I've taken on more than my share of inclines this week.

My big goal is to tackle "the 56 street hill". It connects the low lying levels of town with the high bluff area. It's a steep incline that climbs mercilessly over about one mile.

The top of the hill is a pretty little intersection. If I keep running, I end up in Point Roberts - the quaint US peninsula where I can try and huff and puff my way past US Customs and into another country. (Hmmm... must see if there's room in my pocket for a passport.) If I hang a right I end up in beautiful Diefenbaker Park, where there's a small forested area to practice my trail running.

In all likelihood, however, I'm spent and will be wanting nothing more than to run back DOWN the hill and hide from my running shoes. If I opt to retreat, I'll have the option of lying down in the local cemetery to catch my breath. Very convenient.

If the run is particularly terrible, there may even be a grave I can roll myself into if I feel I can no longer continue my training. It would certainly be a good place to hide from my active 3 year old, should I really feel the need for a long nap.

Speaking of my 3 year old, he's a good motivator for those days when I don't feel like lacing up and hitting the road. The alternative, you see, is to chase HIM around. I often wonder which is one burns more calories...

Emotional Journey

The same day I received the exciting news that I had been selected as a "Joe Runner", I was devastated to learn that my canine companion of over 14 years had terminal cancer. Two short weeks later, I have already had to say good-bye to my wonderful furry friend, and have quickly realized that this blog will have to account for more than the mileage on my running shoes.

Training for a half marathon can be an emotional journey at the best of times. Training for THIS half marathon is becoming a lifeline I did not expect when I committed to the challenge back in January.

In the midst of planning a wedding for September, I am now also mourning my sweet puppy dog. Lacing up my running shoes and hitting the road is providing me the time and space I need to make sense of the frenzy of emotions within my head.

Yesterday, I ran the distance... a leisurely 21km in two and a half hours. I did not pay any attention to my pace or speed, I simply tried to stay in the moment. When my thoughts wandered to how much my feet hurt, I focused on leading with my hips, keeping my shoulders relaxed, and looking forward rather than down. When my thoughts became overwhelmed with grief, I allowed my tears to flow but focused on my breathing and staying present. Eventually, a wave of healthy nostalgia allowed me to recognize a sense of peace within and smile at those I passed along the sea wall... especially those with doggies :)

My pup Baxter came into my life at a time when I didn't even own a pair of running shoes. He showered me with unconditional love every moment of his life and supported my journey towards wellness through his unequivocal zest for life. Now he leaves me with the equally unconditional love of my human life partner, and soon-to-be husband, and inspires me to share his passion for life and everything it may bring.

I'm choosing to see every run as an opportunity for reflection. Those 40, 60, or 150 minutes are mine alone to enjoy and, when extenuating life circumstances may threaten to derail my training, I hope to embrace the challenge. This journey can only lead towards peace of mind.

A wife. A new Mom. A great cook. And now a RUNNER.

And so begins my journey as a runner. And a blogger. Until recently, I had never done either. I am excited to share these new adventures with those that choose to follow along!

I applied to be a "Joe Runner" because I am incredibly new to the sport of running. I have never been a runner. I am a new Mommy to a beautiful 7 1/2 month old baby girl. I was married just over a year ago to an amazing man. I enjoy a nice, quiet family life. When asked to describe myself, words like runner, athlete or sports enthusiast don't come to mind. I am by no means a natural runner. It is a challenge for me every time I get out there.

A few months back I joined an InTraining running clinic for the 2011 Vancouver Sun Run. I joined to get in shape, kick start a healthy lifestyle, and prove to myself that I could do it. I have always wanted to be a runner. I have admired, for years, those that tie up their laces and hit the road (or trail, track, beach or path...). Every time a runner passed me by I would picture myself out there. I would let my mind drift. I could see myself running races. I could feel the sense of accomplishment when crossing a finish line. It all felt very real. It felt attainable. I went home after my first training run with the fear I would never experience those feelings for real. I remember saying to my husband there was no way I could ever picture myself running a 10k distance. Ever.

Well, I did. On April 17th of this year, I crossed the finish line of the Sun Run. My personal goal was not to hit a certain time, it was simply to run the entire race. And I did. Start to finish. It was one of the BEST feelings of my entire life. One of my group leaders had mentioned the Scotiabank Vancouver Half-Marathon to me and said he thought it was a great one to start with if I wanted to continue running. I signed up and have been training on my own since completing the Sun Run.

Running is still difficult for me. I struggle daily with motivation, as I have been on my own for this one, without a group to hold me accountable. Nevertheless, I have been getting out there and following my program no matter what excuses I may be tempted to use. Once I get going, I enjoy being out there. I look forward to that feeling. I find that looking forward is the key. I look forward to my next finish line and that keeps me going. I look to my future and take pride in a new love for fitness and a healthy lifestyle. A lifestyle that I can be proud to share with my daughter as she grows up.

As part of this journey, I am helping to fundraise for a cause close to my heart: Special Olympics British Columbia.

I am incredibly grateful to Asics/Forerunners and the Scotiabank Vancouver Half-Marathon for allowing me this amazing opportunity.

Once again, I'm looking forward... I look forward to more blogging, and more running. Because I AM A RUNNER :-)

Welcome to the first installment of my Joe Runner blog. This is, in fact, my first experience with blogging so I hope I'll be able to share some interesting observations about my half marathon journey with you.

I believe I was selected as a Joe Runner because while running does not come naturally or easy for me, I stick with it and look for reasons to continue when I want to stop. I suspect I'm not alone in these sentiments. Seven years ago I was an avid smoker and wouldn't run to catch a bus. In 2005 I quit smoking, bought a good pair of running shoes, and registered for my first race (the Sun Run), which occurred 8 days later on my 31st birthday. Since then I've completed about a dozen 5-10km races, a try-a-tri, and one half marathon, currently training for my second Half.

I once heard a phrase: "There are things you love doing, and things you love having done." Until recently, running across a finish line was something I loved "having done" but I didn't particularly enjoy the kilometers leading up to it. In recent months, I've surprised myself to notice that I actually smile during my training runs! It may have taken me awhile to get here, but I think I'm finally acquiring a taste for this.

21.1 Kilometers. On 2 Feet. For 1 Big Reason.

Why Was I Chosen?

I signed up to be a Joe Runner to help raise awareness about adoption and BC's Waiting children. This is my first half marathon, and I needed a very good reason to get me motivated! I found that in the Adoptive Families Association of BC and Team Adopt.
I'm running in honour of the hundreds of children - from babies to teens who are waiting for a family. 

I'm honoured to be running the Scotia Bank Half, and I'm thankful for this opportunity to share my training, motivation, and adventures. 

So far I've gained a new appreciation for the miracle of lycra, a serious desire for a pedicure, and a belief that even this almost-30 mommy can give back in a good way.

It's 36 days until the run! Have you found your motivation yet?