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?