Simple Pleasure

 

 My sister, the ninja.

This morning, I woke up with the sun and jumped out of bed, refreshed, enthusiastic, alive, long before my alarm was set for. It was such a nice feeling, I just wanted to jump up and down (like my sister up there) and dance around the room. It is a relief to feel this way. I can't say I've felt that way in a long time. Especially not in the last 4-5 days. I have been struggling with energy for a while and been sick for the last few days.

Last week, I did a mini taper for the Napa Valley Marathon. I didn't feel great all week, but I figured it was my body doing recovery work while I allowed it good rest. I never feel great during a light taper week, so I figured it was just that. But by Thursday, I knew it was not just that. My energy which has been lack luster for a while (due mostly to low iron and hard training) was even more tanked than usual, I was so thirsty it felt like I had crawled across a desert. By the time we got back from my one good run of the week on Friday, I felt so bad that I spent the majority of the day curled up in bed, without appetite, fighting with a fever. At that point, I knew that the marathon on Sunday was unlikely and I resigned myself to nothing but healing.

I didn't run all weekend. I didn't even consider it. Your priorities change very quickly when all you want to do is be able to sit up for more than 5 minutes without a pounding headache or eat solid food and not feel instantly sick to your stomach. Forget running, I just wanted to feel like being alive again. 

Yesterday, I was feeling much better but not all the way. I considered running but since I was balancing on the edge of recovery, I didn't think it was smart. I didn't want to push myself backwards over the edge. I thought about one thing yesterday a great deal: not running. Not "not running" for one day, but never being able to run again. Most people have the ability to run, if they choose to cultivate it. A vast majority of people let this ability go unused. And then there are people who want NOTHING more in the world than to be able to run again. I know a few. I know people who would give anything to be able to run again. But for some, there are health reasons that simply cannot be run past. I can't even imagine. Taking a few days taper and a few days off was nothing. I knew I would eventually get better, get back to running. I looked forward to that time, but also didn't rush it.

When I woke up this morning, I knew I was back. And likely better than I have been in a while. Afterall, the rest my body needed to combat sickness is also additional and highly beneficial rest time for my muscles and body. I sprang from bed, excited. When I laced up my shoes and darted out into the crisp, cold morning air I felt ALIVE in a way that we forget and ignore so easily.

I ran like a child. Pushing hard up the hills, striding in time with the music in my headphones. It wasn't a workout. Forget a workout, this was living. This was feeling. This is why I do what I do. If I could do nothing but run with the joy, passion and pureness I did this morning and never race again, I would do it in a heartbeat. Running is one of my life's greatest and most simple pleasure. This morning, the sun rising over the city, the crisp air against my checks, my lungs and legs working hard, but effortless at the same time I was in heaven, I was following my bliss, I was loving every step and completely soaking in life, the world. That is why I do it. Simple pleasure, passion, joy.

Racing and Expectations

Back in 2007, I won the Napa Valley Marathon. Going into that race, I had no expectations. I had moved the weekend before, I had gone on two long-ish runs (one was unplanned) in freezing cold weather. I didn't really taper and came in with the idea that I was merely tuning up for Mad City 100k, my first 100k a month later. I was pleasantly surprised by my performance.

Then, I was a much lower mileage runner and had just begun to scratch the surface of running. I enjoyed a very anonymous status. I could have run fast or slow, race or not and no one would have noticed. After a few years on the scene and some success, that is no longer the case. I am not complaining, heaven's no.

Now, when I come to a race, I can't fly under the radar. And it has changed my mind-set about planning my racing schedule. Last year, I didn't race a ton, much less in fact than the previous two years. When I went to set up my schedule this year, I wanted to tailor everything towards Western States. I selected American River 50 miler (April 10) and Ice Age 50 miler as my tune up races for States and then decided to add Napa Valley Marathon (March 7) as an early season "speed workout". I figured it would be fun to start the season out by racing a marathon, albeit without fully focusing on it. I wanted to keep my schedule light, so I could race well at each race without robbing myself of recovery or peak training for States.

But then I decided to run Lake Sonoma 50 miler (March 27) and Miwok 100k (May 1-instead of Ice Age 50) and that changed things. Suddenly I went from having a very light racing schedule to one in which I was wondering how the heck I was going to get any training in there at all. While some people can be very successful at racing quite often, I know for me that I cannot go into each race trying to red-line.

This past Saturday, after a great 33 mile run on the Miwok course, we were eating Papalote burritos and discussing racing, expectations and prioritizing races. What it comes down to is that I have to make sure that I maintain my focus for each race and race according to MY plan. Not according to the hype, expectations of others or even ego. While it may not be easy to listen to people tell me I am sand-bagging or hear after a race (like last year at Way too Cool), "what happened?" when I ran a smart, not "A" race pace, I continually remind myself: what are my goals for this race? Why am I here?

When looking at all the upcoming races, I remember something Gary Robbins told me last year at TransRockies. He said (regarding the six stages of TR), "you don't want to win 5 days and end up in second on the last day". I take that sentiment and apply it to my racing schedule this year. I have to remember what my ultimate goal is. I want to win the war, the battles are inconsequential. While expectations may exist externally, I will try my best from putting them on myself.

Sunday's Napa Valley Marathon will be a test of that. I have not tapered, I am battling a cold and I haven't done a single long run on the road. I have no expectations for my performance. I don't even have a goal time. I don't think that I will be making an effort to hang with the 6-7 women who are all going for their Olympic Trials qualifier. This is their "A" race, not mine. Doesn't mean I won't put in a good effort but I have reasonable, forgiving expectations of myself. I am mostly just looking forward to enjoying the race, the race weekend, hanging out with friends, eating good food and drinking wine. I love the adventures, the challenge, I love just running and carry that with me as I toe the line and see what the day has for me.

Meat, its what's for dinner

 

Eat one of these and call me in the morning.

I started reading a book called The Butcher and The Vegetarian and had a realization. The author was talking about her symptoms of fatigue and inability to lose weight no matter what she did. She was a life long vegetarian and the solution: Eat Meat. The book is delightful thus far but it also made me  realize that I had been forgetting something very essential to my own success. I was writing a post on my other blog but I think the portion that follows really fits here as well...

From the delicious journey:

For the last few months of training and life, I have been working incredibly hard. I have run numerous 100+ mile weeks, ate healthy, been smart and on top of things. And yet, I have not really been feeling good. If anything, I feel like I am back to where I was in the twilight days of my veganism. Training hard, eating healthfully and tired as a corpse and not seeing results that my training and diet would indicate. I realized then that I needed to start eating meat again. I did, I felt better. Wahoo. Problem gone! Energy returned. Training gains achieved. I have the type of constitution that thrives off a diet consisting of fruits, vegetables and meats (and fats) and all parts of that are necessary for me.

But somewhere over the past year, I started eating less meat again. I would eat meat when dining out or special occasions, but slowly and surely meat dropped out of my diet for the most part until I was having it only 2-3 days a week. And lo and behold, for the last few months (since November) I have been feeling like dirt. My energy is low, my body composition is not changing (for the better) and my training gains appear lack luster. Today I realized that in an effort to work towards my training goals that I have been more strict about my diet during the week and basically eliminated meat during the week. My logic was poor on this choice as somehow I decided that regular meat consumption just meant added calories to my diet, when the fact of the matter is, I eat less when I eat meat (because I am satisfied) and that is just plain dumb anyways. I eat meat on the weekends or if I dine out, but in comparison to my needs from training, it is not enough, especially in the last month. I don't think I need a lot, but I need to have a modest portion on a nearly daily basis. If that means I need to swap out something else to make room on my plate, so be it. It WILL make a huge difference. No wonder I feel so good at the beginning of the week and crap by the weekend, I have eat meat on the weekends and not during the week. Thus, I need to eat meat and be good about including it in my diet.

For those of you who aren't familiar, I was a vegan in addition to being gluten free but ended up in really poor health. I discuss this topic in previous blog postings on my food website Fast Foodie cooks, this post and this post discusses the above further. And I think they illustrate that I have not and do not make the above statements in an unconsidered way.

Race Weight

 

A bite of gluten free muffin. Not a quandry.

Over the years I have been blogging, I have posted at least once a year about race weight- mine, diets, weight loss, "looking like a runner", etc. As the first major efforts of the year are creeping closer and closer, I am again thinking about it. Most of the thinking has been prompted by reading the book, Race Weight by Matt Fitzgerald. This book is geared towards endurance athletes and focuses on more than just beginners.

As someone who knows a good deal about nutrition, healthy eating and food, it is nice to read a book that does offer simple steps/ practices to move towards race weight. The book isn't touting any certain type of diet, though it is in line with what I already believe and practice, a very Michael Pollen-esqe "eat real food" type recommendation. It is informational yes, but in the end it runs me into the same road blocks/questions/conundrums that I consider my biggest hurdles in achieving my race weight.

Currently, as of this morning, I am about 5-6 lbs over my lightest race weight. I could go as much as 7-8lbs down and still be within a healthy range for me. If I am being honest, I would definitely like to achieve something like that weight this season preferably before WS100. I also don't want to sacrifice health and training and such just to be lighter. Fitzgerald says, your ideal race weight is the amount you weigh on the day you run your PR. I care less about the number, than I do about how I feel on race day. Weight is, ultimately, an arbitrary number.

Fitzgerald argues that the best way to lose weight is to increase your training. I agree it is much easier to run 5 more miles (and not up calories accordingly) than to cut 500 additional calories out of your diet when you are in training (at least for me it is). The really big roadblock that I continually run into and did with this book is: calories in to lose weight, but eating enough not trigger hormonal imbalances, muscle loss and fat gain. I have been in the position where (when vegan) I wasn't getting enough calories, got hypo-thyroid and ending up gaining fat/losing muscle because my calories in/calories out were too far out of balance. Thus, I find myself when training hard constantly wondering if I am eating too much (to lose weight) or eating too little for the mileage I put in.

I have had my BMR checked and would wager based on my weight that I burn, maybe 90kcals/mile. Thus, on an average weekday during February in which I have been doing at least 100mpw, that I run (say 20 miles over 2 runs) and work (seated/computer) that I would be burning about 3500 calories per day. My average calories in (weekdays) is about 2400-2800 calories. In theory that means, I should lose a bit of weight each week. But that is not happening. Which means, I am either overeating (which is what I am always convinced I am doing, but not necessarily true) or undereating and freaking my body out. Trying to figure out which one, could drive you insane. Instead, I just try to listen to my body and my hunger. I eat an incredibly healthy diet, so I am not really concerned about the quality of my diet at all.

I know that I could be like some of the elite athletes in the book/that I know/that I have been at one point or another and be completely rigid about my diet. But that is the second roadblock I run into. Do I want to be so strict about my diet that I don't enjoy my life? Do I want to abstain from wine with friends, coconut ice cream out of the container after a long run and trying new things at restaurants or going on weekend trips designed around all the places we can eat? I don't. Being overly obsessed with food and weight is unhealthy and alienates you from everyone and everything. I don't think that running is a free pass by any means, but I think moderation is completely fine.

I don't like to even thinking about race weight or weight at all, but as Fitzgerald discusses, we think about it as elite endurance athletes because it makes a difference. We can feel it. I am less worried about achieving a certain number than I am about feeling a certain way about my body.

Thus, as the season thrusts itself upon me, I am devising strategies to encourage my body towards race weight or better described, race body feeling,  while being happy, healthy and fueled enough to do the good hard work. At the same time, I am remembering that the things I will remember most about my training days are the fun I had with friends running then refueling, not how fat or fit I felt on that day.

 

Post run treats with speedsters at Flying Apron

Tempus Fugit

 

Mile 55- Western States 2009. Photo by Gareth Mackay

It's feels like just yesterday that this photo was taken as we moved Krissy through Michigan Bluff, mile 55 at States. I can feel the sweltering heat of the day and the crazy energy of the race. It's been, what 2/3 of a year? There are now 134 days left until States. It's just weird where time goes.

This is not a Western States posting though. I am as excited about Western States as I am for any of my other races. I want to run well, challenge myself in both training and racing and enjoy the heck out of myself.  

It is funny to reflect on how quickly things change. While I feel like I have just been in true "training mode" since coming back from Hawaii, my off season really seemed to fly by. This year, my off season was not really an "off from running" season but more of an off from racing season. I haven't raced since Rodeo Beach 50k and raced in an "A" race since JFK in November. And now, I am quickly approaching my first race and am thinking, "ack! Where did time go? Am I ready? Am I fast enough yet?" I was looking at my training plan and race schedule and it really just feels like a hop, skip and a jump and suddenly it's June! The reality of the situation is that I have been doing some great training, dropping the hammer on some good running and am just continuing to be patient. Patience is afterall what I recommend to those runners just starting out, so I need to remember to heed that for myself. And remembering to enjoy, though I would say I really don't have much problem with that. I am as much looking forward to my races, as I am for many a weekend running adventure, pacing gigs and training.

In all honesty, while I am in "training mode" now, I feel this mode has become one that is not hugely separate from my regular mode. What I mean is that, the good habits of "training mode" like maintaining a healthy (but also balanced & balanced with enjoyment) diet, core training, stretching, getting bodywork etc. I feel like, more than ever, that running is just a completely integrated part of my life. Maybe it's because I spend the majority of my time with people who think a weekend is best spent running on trails for hours followed by good food, drink and laughs that I feel this way. Though this has generally never been the case, I know feel like the epic cool runs we do on the weekend are the center piece of the weekends plans instead of something that will be fit in. I mean, I guess most people know by now, that there are not many activities I love more in the world than running and cooking! 

 

The small amazing moments. 

Sunrise over the city on yet another 5:30 Headlands run.

Photo by Brett Rivers.

While I look at my schedule and say, "ack! where is time going?", I am also really aware that I am more present than ever. I am more in the here and now. It is a really cool feeling to know, acknowledge and work towards plans/goals for the future, but to not be missing out on all the great things going on right now that make me so happy, excited, present and content. Life is really good. So even though, when I pause for a minute to think about it, time seems to be racing and I have to work hard at holding on to all the amazing moments that are playing out every day (thank goodness I have taken to journaling), I still feel like each moment is rich and fat and drawn out for my enjoyment.

Integration and Presence. Above all, right now that is where I am. And I, frankly, am quickly forgetting any other way to be.