RACE REPORTS: Limbs in Motion 5k and Perfect 10 Miler

Limbs in Motion 5k -Age Group 3rd

LIMBS IN MOTION 5k

As a hard training run leading up to the CGI Perfect 10 Miler, I jumped into a 5k the weekend before hand. It was the Limbs in Motion 5k in Hamilton Veterans' Park, Hamilton, NJ where proceeds benefit a charity that helps provide prosthetics to amputees who cannot afford them.

I liked the cause, and I liked the race. I've run several races in Veterans' Park and have yet to do one there that I didn't enjoy. The park does have some hills, both fairly gradual ones and a few notable short steep ones, but the paths are pretty and the venue well equipped with bathrooms and shelters in case of rain.

We didn't get rain at the race, for which I'm grateful, because even a light rain can cause treacherous slipperiness when the autumn leaves are on the ground. Moreover, though the starting temperature was in the low 50's, not too cold, if you add rain to that, then stand around at the race finish, it is easy to get chilled.

Although I did a 10 mile training run the day before and had upped my running milage for the week considerably, I definitely threw down for the 5k. I posted my third ever sub 30 minute 5k race (yes, I'm slow), though I didn't get a PR. Usually a 29:45 would not have a hope of qualifying anyone for a finisher's place medal, but since this was a small race (about 80-90 participants), I actually managed an age group 3rd. That was encouraging.

Unfortunately, my training momentum died on that 5k course.

I spent the following week consumed by work, not quite fending off encroachments to my meager amount of training time, and not managing a single workout. I haven't had an entire week off in years. And the week before a 10 mile race was not a good time to do it. Tapering is one thing, but having your training drop off a cliff is quite another.

PERFECT 10 MILER

Perfect 10 is an all women's race in Mercer County Park in NJ that is in its second year and growing fast. There were well over 2,500 racers this year.

After the good 5k the week before, followed by the non-training week, I arrived at Perfect 10 feeling conflicted. On one hand, I had put in several long training runs on the Perfect 10 course over the past month. On the other hand, there was the unfortunate issue of my week of not training. I tried not to let it get to me.

My coach, Chris, texted early in the morning to say he would be on the course, and to remember to look up at the sky and smile. Sometimes the simplest advice is the best. I looked up at the cloudless blue sky and remembered why I like to do this stuff in the first place. I like the sky, the sun, the camaraderie, the chance to achieve something new and to push myself beyond what is comfortable. This would be a great day for it.

My wife, Diane, had agreed to do this race with me. She doesn't do triathlons, and doesn't like the logistics and getting up early for running races, so she seldom participates. When she does, it makes things extra special. To her credit, she managed to leap out of bed and make the coffee (something that is usually my purview ) and was in good spirits as we headed out.

Her spirits seemed to crash, however, when we got stuck in traffic and she then realized she desperately needed to pee. She got so crabby I turned to her at one point and asked if she'd just rather go home. But, as is her nature, she was resilient. We arrived and she set off to find a port-o-potty. Unfortunately, I lost her at that point.

In the throngs of women gathering at the starting line, I couldn't find my training buddy, Maria, either. And before I knew it, the starting gun went off and it was too late to worry about it. I activated my Garmin GPS and moved out.

Here's the good news: I did 7 near perfect miles, staying exactly on race pace and even slightly above. I saw Maria and Diane on the course and both looked to be doing well. I saw my coach, Chris, twice and that, too, was encouraging.

But at mile 7 I slowed to go through a water station and it was like my body just shut down. The last three miles were brutal. I couldn't seem to get my legs going again, and a lot of it was uphill with a headwind that was gathering speed. I had to walk in several sections, and each time I did, getting restarted became more difficult.

The final mile of the race takes you right past the finish line, which is tantalizing. You feel like you're almost done, but you still have 10% of the race to go, and my legs did not have it.

Members of Jersey Girls Stay Strong who participated in
Perfect 10, many of whom encouraged me when I needed it most.

Several people from my multisport team --Jersey Girls Stay Strong-- hollered words of encouragement when they saw me. I could hear them over my iPod and each time that got me to trot a bit more. I managed to jog in the last half mile, but my legs were beat going over the finish line. It was a tough way to end what could have been a PR race (I ended up 4 minutes off my time from last year -- all 4 minutes were added in those last 3 miles).

My own experience aside, if anyone is considering an all women's race, this is the one I'd recommend. I can't think of a more cheerful or encouraging event. Everyone bedazzles their race numbers, tons of women run in Super Woman capes or other silly outfits (many many tutus), every size and shape and age of runner is represented (age 8 to 81 this year), walkers get plenty of course support, mothers and daughters run together, huge groups from Black Girls Run and other teams show up, and there are lots of cheering spectators.

My race number, bedazzled. :) 

Perfect 10 is especially good for first timers who are new to distance running or are working up to a half marathon, but it presents plenty of challenge for a seasoned runner as well. CGI is known for being well organized outfit, offering good amenities (plenty of port-o-potties, well manned water stops, a nice hoodie sweatshirt, good post race eats -- though I never did find the promised chocolate fountain). The course is pretty and the time of year is cool, but not so cool that you can't wear shorts. All in all, it's a great race.

LESSONS LEARNED

In the end, here's what I took away from Perfect 10:

A.) I went out too fast,
B.) I didn't do enough core work ahead of time, consequently my core just collapsed, and
C.) I took both a psychological and a physical hit from the week off of training.

My weight is also up about 10lbs over what I was at the race last year, all ten pounds of which have packed on since I got back to work after summer break. With less time to train and the triathlon season over, combined with more stress overall, my bad eating habits found me and dug in. I will have to push hard to get back on track with this, but I know if I do I'll have more energy to cope with the stress.

With only two weeks to go until the Trenton 1/2 Marathon, my sights are set on training consistently, eating better and doing more core. I will have to concentrate at Trenton, to hold back in the early miles, knowing it will pay dividends at the end.

LOOKING AHEAD

Here are the major races on my calendar at the moment...

NOV. - Trenton 1/2
DEC. - Frozen Bonsai 1/2 in NYC
JAN. - Key West 1/2

JUN. - Escape the Cape International Distance Tri
JUL. - NJ State Olympic Distance Tri

Some days you just don't feel it

Still in training mode for Perfect 10 which is only a little over a week away.

Maria, my training buddy, and I have now run the full course 3 times, but today we were creeping along like a couple of snails. Everything seemed to hurt. And though we pushed each other along, as we always do, our 12 miler shifted to 10, and I was hurting at the end.

It was hard to figure what was making this particular run any different than the others. We ran the same distance and more the last two weeks and while it was certainly effort, it wasn't this hard. Why so hard today?

Some runner talk about these kinds of days as a sign of "over training," others point to hydration or nutrition problems. Those things undoubtedly factor in, but I think if you run for long enough in your life, sometimes you are randomly going to have bad days. I'm just hoping a decent taper in the next week will give us the oomph we need to do well on race day.

As for me, my taper starts Sunday. Tomorrow I'm heading to the Limbs in Motion 5k in Hamilton, NJ Veterans' Park. The cause is a good one: raising funds for amputees who cannot afford prosthetics. The venue is lovely, a park with pretty trails, large fields and a glistening reservoir. I've run several races here, and have good associations with the spot.

The big question: how much go have my legs got in them after an increase in milage this week, and will I have enough psychological mojo to push myself and see if I can get sub 30 on the course, or even set a PR (not feeling likely with these tired gams).

I'll post a race report on that one afterwards.

Training for Perfect 10

It's been almost a month since Tri AC. My training has had its ups and downs...literally. Took a nasty spill while running two days after Tri AC. The right side of my body got some serious road rash, and I twisted my left ankle badly enough that I can still feel it twinge if I catch it at a certain angle.

That fall put me out of commission for Rock n' Roll Philly 1/2 Marathon. I was disappointed.

Between the fall and some killer weeks at work, my training hasn't been where I want it, and my trips to the fridge for more numnums has been way ahead of where I want it.

All that said, I am heading toward the Perfect 10 miler on Oct. 26 with a spring in my step and a new pair of sneakers.

PERFECT 10

Perfect 10 is an all women's event put on by CGI, the same group that organizes the NJ State Triathlon. Like that event, it is held in Mercer County Park, which is great for me, because it is just 10 minutes from my house and is so close to work that the course runs right past my office at mile 5. This makes it easy to train for since I can just go out and run the course whenever I have the time.

I did the Perfect 10 run last year and loved the atmosphere. I had run one women's only half marathon in New York City back in 2003 and found it kind of unpleasant. There were some really pushy shovey types at that race and everyone seemed catty, both at the starting line and on the course. I was the very last finisher and I ended up doing an extra mile because they took away all the cones and markers before I got to the line. I finished in just over 3 hours, which is certainly slow, but isn't unheard of by racing standards. Anyway, after that low point, I wasn't sure I ever wanted to do a women's only event again. I was very cautious going into Perfect 10.

I needn't have worried. Perfect 10 in 2013 was surely one of the most up-beat and supportive events I have participated in.

Here were some of the things I liked, in no particular order:

• the dudes with ripped abdominals wearing chip-n-dale's outfits who cheered us in at the finish (I am not into dudes per se, but I liked the spirit of it...they were really enthusiastic)
• the huge contingents both from my own team Jersey Girls Stay Strong Multisport and from one of my favorite teams Black Girls Run -- there was some excellent team support on the course, for runners of every ability
• the chocolate dipping fountain in the refreshments area 
• the long-sleeve tech shirt nice enough that I have worn it regularly ever since
• the relatively easy course, a few rolling hills but nothing too taxing

I don't honestly recall anything I didn't like about the event. I know I felt a little under at around mile 8, but I found myself right next to my pal and current training partner, Maria, and we pushed it in on the last half mile, crossing the line together. That was fun. 

So, I'm psyched to get back out there, though I'm not sure if I'm in shape to hit a PR this time around. Last year's time was 1:46:30. We shall see. I'm not optimistic just because I didn't have a run focussed tri season. But you never know. There are still a couple weeks of training left to go. 

SNEAKERS

I didn't get the new sneakers for Perfect 10, but just because I was due, but new shoes always put me in a good frame of mind.

I'm an Asics fan and have been training and racing in Gel Kahana 6's for the last two and a half years. I got them when I was still obese because they were technically trail runners, and I wanted something that could take a serious pounding. But then when I tried to move on to lighter models of Asics and even tried a pair of Brooks, the result was blisters. So Kahanas it is.

Asics seems to update their lines all the time, whether they need to or not. I'm fine with new colors, but honestly, the Gel Kahana 6's were just about perfect. Fortunately the 7's don't seem to be worse. They have good room in the toe-box and are roomy through the ball of my foot. The cushioning seems to be about the same as the old model. I do miss the pull loop at the back for slip-on and off, however (a must for triathlon).

TRAINING

The good news on the training front is that Maria and I (Team Hard Core) have been able to do some long runs together to train up to Perfect 10. We did the full course last week at a stately pace, but I think we both felt fine after, so we at least knew we were fit for 10 one way another.

We did the full course plus an extra mile yesterday, and again, we seemed to be in good shape. We pushed ourselves a bit in the 8th and 9th miles, which I think was a good idea. I flagged a bit in the 11th mile, but overall knew I could have pushed harder. I'm thinking we'll probably do the course together one more time next week and I'll try to do it once on my own and just see how hard I can push.

After months of feeling reluctant about running, I'm starting to remember why I enjoyed it and how it started me on the road to triathlon in the first place. Meantime, I am missing the biking for sure, but don't miss the swimming (will re-start masters swim after the new year, in time to train for the spring tri season 2015).

The good thing about triathlon is that switching up sports all the time isn't just a matter of working different parts of the body (and mind) but also it keeps things fresh. I love digging into one aspect for a while, then pulling back and doing a lot with another. Last winter I was all about the swimming, this spring and summer I got into the cycling for the first time, now I'm happy to be pouring myself back into the good old one-foot two-foot running.

BALANCE

After having a literal fall a few weeks back, I'm thinking more and more about balance in all aspects of my life. In particular, I'm having a tough time getting my work-life-training balance going. I get fairly long vacations compared to most people, but when I'm working, I'm really expected to be on-call all the time. The hours in the classroom, plus prep, plus office hours, plus grading and more grading, plus committee work add up in a hurry.

People at work are puffy and sedentary and I've worked hard to move away from that lifestyle. So I'm currently ruminating on how to protect my time enough that I have room in my life for family and health even when I'm working. I think this is the dilemma of a lot of women my age, especially working moms. If anyone has the secret to this, please put it in the comments!

See you in two weeks for another race report!

RACE REPORT: Tri Atlantic City - International Distance

This was a "destination" race, meaning we drove to it and stayed over.

THE LOCATION

I'd never been to Atlantic City and found it by turns mesmerizing, baffling and depressing. A line of massive casino hotel towers looms behind a sprawl of up-scale shops and run down apartments. Two blocks from the JCrew and Urban Outfitter's glossy windows are dim streets lined with pawn shops, check cashing establishments and neon signs advertising the services of bail bondsmen.

I could only vaguely picture what the city might have been like in its heyday, something tacky but grand, hazy with cigar smoke and the encouraging blip-bloops of slot machines. But AC has been in steady decline for decades, and with plenty of gambling and beach access now available elsewhere, the decline is snowballing. Three of it's best known casinos are shuttering up just this month (read a NY Times article on that here). 

Nevertheless, it would be wrong to say Atlantic City is ugly. Though the boardwalk seems to want to be

bigger and splashier than all others, as if it would challenge Cape May or Asbury Park to an arm wrestle if it could, the beaches and dunes are quite lovely. The boardwalk manages to stand back enough that one could, conceivably, enjoy a nice picnic on the sand without feeling oppressed by the bright lights and clatter. I didn't get to do this, but it seemed possible.

Diane and I arrived at Bader Field on Saturday at 3:45pm, in time to rack my bike and hit the race meeting at 4. The light mist that had tingled through the air when we arrived was rapidly shifting to solid rain. The USAT official sped through her spiel as the clouds darkened and heavy drops began to cascade down. When the race director asked if there were any questions, we were all like students waiting for the bell to ring to signal the end of class. We held our breath hoping no one would raise their hand, then after a moment's silence we scattered to our cars.

Diane and I met up with my training buddy, Maria, at a Mexican taqueria called Panchos, that I'd found on

Panchos Food

Yelp (you can read the Yelp review here). I insisted that the food would be terrific and there would be vegetarian options. Those things turned out to be true, if by "terrific" you mean good, and by "options" you mean five possible menu items. It was the quintessential hole-in-the-wall mom and pop business. Food was served on TV dinner style plastic trays and the proprietor seemed to think I was being ridiculous when I asked for some tortilla chips and salsa. We had to bus the previous diners' plates and plastic ware off our table, and by "table" I mean rickety card table. Nevertheless, I had about the best steak burrito I've ever had, and Maria, who grew up in Nogales, AZ on the border of Mexico, vouched for the authenticity of the meal.

After our early dinner, Diane and I retreated to our room at The Chelsea, which bills itself as a "boutique hotel" and is the only non-casino hotel on the strip. Again, one needs to reconceive the terms here to make sense of it. Boutique, which I usually take to mean "small and stylish," in this case denotes enormous neon purple and pink signage out front, faux marble Greco-Roman inspired tables next to velvet draped chairs in the main entry, and rooms with sparkly ceilings and dim lighting. Valet parking was enthusiastic and the receptionist who checked us in gave us a little triathlon gift bag with an Granny Smith apple and a bottle of Poland Spring water in it. I'd feel guilty for mentioning the fact that there was a clump of hair in our sink and a squeezed out tube of toothpaste in our trash can when we arrived, but everyone else has already ratted out The Chelsea in vivid terms on Yelp and Trip Advisor (read reviews here).

We had planned to head out and explore the city after check in, which is part of the fun of a destination race, but by that point the rain was coming down in sheets. Instead we tried to settle down and read in the room's whacky mood lighting. The mirrors, which were warped to funhouse proportions, were back lit like the ones in a Broadway dressing room, and the only other lighting consisted of two parrot shaped ceramic lamps on the bedside tables. These contained what seemed to be 20 watt bulbs. We gathered our iPads and flopped down on the ominously squishy beds. An unbidden memory rose from my subconscious, a memory of a scene from the TV show CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, where the coroner tells Grissom that a person has died in every hotel room in Las Vegas. I gulped, noting Las Vegas is just a much bigger version of Atlantic City (check out the CSI schedule here -- there are reruns on SpikeTV)

And then the noise started up. Police sirens blared, cutting the night with their piercing wails. Every five minutes or so we'd hear more sirens. It carried on like this for more than two hours. We worried we'd landed in the most crime ridden city in America. I peaked out the blinds at intervals, expecting to see purse snatchers being run down by motorcycle cops, or maybe a riot. At one point Diane turned to me and said in a tense whisper: "is it possible that Al Qaeda has a secret cell in Atlantic City?"

Later, huddling under the bed covers, too alert to fall sleep, I posted about the endless sirens on

Miss America Shoes Parade - 2014

Facebook. A friend who attended Tri AC last year responded immediately to let me know that the Miss America pageant was going on this weekend, and they had had their annual "Shoes Parade" that day. During the parade the contestants ride in fancy convertibles, flanked by marching bands, past thousands of onlookers who scream "Show us your shoes!" to which the young women apparently oblige by dangling their feet over the windscreens to demonstrate the latest in misogynist fashions. Afterward, my Facebook friend explained, each of the 53 contestants --representing the 50 states plus Puerto Rico and the US territories-- gets a police escort back to their hotel, hence the sirens.

As explanations go, I don't know what to make of this. I fell asleep worrying about how many hard core shoe fetishists were lurking in the streets below our window, and wondering if the police escorts were needed to protect the 53 nubile beauties from being assaulted on the way to their hotel, or if they were just there to make the 52 soon-to-be losers feel important for a day.

THE RACE START

Transition area at Tri Atlantic City. 
This was a HUGE event with more than 1,200 participants.

I got up at 5, ate a peanut butter sandwich I'd brought with me, downed half a diet coke (no time for coffee) and went down stairs to wait for Maria to pick me up.

I watched out the glass facade as two girls with big boufy hair, each wearing a short cut sequined dress, stumbled barefooted up the hotel steps (I dare not think what happened to their shoes). They saw the revolving door and simply collapsed, apparently unwilling to tangle with it. They slumped on the top step, and one freshened her lipstick using a compact mirror. The other held a fresh cocktail, of what looked like whiskey sour, in a tall glass slick with condensation. A few moments later, two male counterparts showed up, shiny silver sports coats flung over their shoulders. They were laughing loudly, and I heard the word "tits" shouted a few times.

The all-night revelers stood in contrast to the determined looking athletes sliding past them, heading to the race. Spandex and gatorade meets sequins and booze.

It took Maria and I a half an hour to cover the one mile distance to the race venue. There was an impenetrable traffic snarl entering the parking area at Bader Field, and it backed everything up for a half mile in each direction. By the time we finally got there, we had only a few minutes before transition was to close and neither of us had set up our gear.

Maria needed to hit the port-o-potties, so I took her pack and mine and dashed for transition. I set up my gear in its careful square foot of real estate, then saw Maria still hadn't made it back. The race officials were calling a two minute warning, so I hustled to Maria's spot and tried to get her gear set up in a logical manner. I grabbed our caps and goggles and dashed out as the gates were closing behind me.

Though we were reassured that the water temperature was 74, the air was a cool 58 degrees and most of the participants were lined up at the start in wet suits. Maria and I decided against the unnecessary gear, but it made for a chilly wait for the race start. We stood for the national anthem and then watched the para-triathletes complete their swim loop. Those athletes were truly inspiring; watching them put all my own concerns about race performance in perspective.

As with my last race, at Six Flags, we followed a time trial rather than wave start at Atlantic City. Meaning, we seeded ourselves roughly, according to perceived ability, and got in the water one by one. Our timing chip bracelet was activated as we stepped over the mat at the inlet's edge.

THE SWIM

The water was warm and might have been pleasant if not for the fact that it was low tide. We slid off the dock into eighteen inches of water and two feet of black mud. I saw others walking through the glop looking for deeper water before starting to swim, but it was shallow pretty far out. I started swimming almost immediately, as wading in the muck seemed like a waste of energy. I was immediately coated in a layer of black silt and could feel bits of vegetation slithering into my kit, but there was nothing to do but press on.

The swim course described a straight forward rectangle, but I found it surprisingly difficult to site the buoys. I can't say the course was poorly marked, but there was considerable distance between buoys and I found myself wandering off course repeatedly. Partly I think this was because I was changing position a lot to avoid slamming into other people

The international distance had over 500 participants, so there was a lot of contact in the water. Early on I was kicked hard in the sternum by some guy doing a butterfly kick with a breast stroke paddle. I figured things would thin out quickly, but found myself banged into and banging into others straight to the end. Extremely poor visibility in the water contributed to this. The water was pitch black with churned mud and I couldn't see the bodies of swimmers less then a foot or two to either side of me.

By nature I enjoy swimming, consider myself at home in the water, and will happily swim for considerable distances, but I haven't been doing masters swim training these last two months and I could feel it. In my sprint races this summer I have been able to maintain a steady clip in the water, keeping me in the top 10% of female finishers in all my events. But a sprint swim is only 500 meters, the equivalent of 10 laps down and back in a pool. The international swim is 1,500 meters, and you just can't fake that.

I finished the swim 8th out of 22 in my age group, which is not terrible, but well below my abilities. It was more than ten minutes slower than my time for the same distance at the Bassman 1/2 iron relay back in May. My diminished conditioning became more apparent with the dull ache that started up in my lower back about two thirds of the way through. Then I got water deep in my right ear. That pain was enough that I had to breathe almost entirely to the left, not my preferred side. The swim was slow going.

THE BIKE

Leonardo, my Bianchi cyclocross, better known
as "The Italian Stallion." And my one square
foot of transition real estate. Poor Leo got
very wet ever night, and the chain was squeaky
during the ride. 

I moved with purpose, but didn't hammer through transition. It was too chaotic in there to do so, too much gear, too many people. I put on my bike shirt, sunglasses and bike gloves. The latter two things I would normally leave behind for the sprint distance but didn't want to do without over 20 miles. 

The bike course was along the Atlantic City expressway. Other than the on and off ramps at both ends of the course, it was perfectly flat. There were some views of marsh lands and the city in the distance, but I'd be hard pressed to call the ride scenic. The right hand lane was coned off for us, but busses rattled by at 65mph one lane over, and twice we had to pass through the EZ pass toll area where exhaust fumes from idling cars hovered in a thick cloud. 

I had been warned that the bike course was windy, and that proved true. Heading west we faced a firm headwind, east we had the wind at our backs. In theory this would mean if one maintained the same effort throughout, one could make a good time average. But in trying not to kill myself going into the wind, hoping to save my legs for the run, I ended up with a slow 16.7 mph bike average overall. To put this in perspective, I have averaged 18+ on other windy courses this season. 

THE RUN

Finished my first International triathlon and loved it.

Because runs have been my bugaboo of late, I had deliberately worked to avoid over exertion on the bike. I may have overdone it a little, going slower than need be, but I was glad to find I had ample strength left in my legs for the run.

The run was by far the most visually interesting portion of the race, as most of it went along the famous AC boardwalk. Jumbo screens above the street lamps flashed pictures of the Miss America contestants, passers by licked ice cream cones despite the early hour, old ladies pedaled by on pastel colored beach cruisers. There was so much to look at. 

I found a steady stride and held it for the first three miles.

At the three mile mark I saw Diane cheering and waving a cup of coffee at me. She called out encouragement, promising me a nice iced caramel mochiato at the finish. This prompted me to pick up the pace for the final two miles. A little further on two homeless guys, who were smoking e-cigarettes, started trotting along side me saying "Oh, yeah, girl! You got it! You gonna do it!" That probably also inspired me to hustle. 

My finish time goal had been under three hours, and I cut it a little fine: 2:59:49. I left myself eleven seconds to spare. Still, I crossed the line in top spirits. I could have gone harder, and now that I know that, I have a better sense of how much I can push on my next olympic distance. 

BEST BITS

My jersey got many compliments.
I will wear it more often. 

My favorite things about this race were, in no particular order:

• I love trying new things and Atlantic City was a pleasing combination of weird locale with well organized race. 
• It was great to have Diane with me.
• Many of my sisters from the Jersey Girls Stay Strong Multisport club were there (find out more about them here), and cheered for me despite the fact that I didn't wear the pink team jersey ("magenta" I am told). I wasn't trying to be a diva, but I don't feel like myself in magenta. I announced ahead of time, on Facebook, that I'd be wearing my Rosie the Riveter "We Can Do It!" jersey instead, hoping that represented the right team spirit. Many many Jersey Girls gave me warm cheers during my race and I appreciated that so much. I had a great time cheering for them, too, and got to meet up with many of them in the JGSSM tent afterward.
• Though I had a lot of training setbacks in the last few months, this race was a testament to the work of my coach, Chris. When we first began working together, I told him my next goal was to step up from sprint to olympic/international distance, and that I wanted to cross the finish not by any means necessary, but feeling strong. I did that. He kept me focussed and my workouts balanced, even when the workouts weren't plentiful. 
• I got to team back up with Maria, who also finished strong, rebounding from a demoralizing month spent battling a bronchial infection. Go Team Hard Core! 

EVALUATION OF THE EVENT = A- 

Tri AC was my seventh triathlon this season, eleventh overall (I've been at this for two years now). I've participated in events run by big corporate groups like CGI, which puts on the NJ State triathlon, small local outfits like Split Second and DQ, and mid-tier companies like CityTri. This was my first Delmo Sports event and it was pretty good. 

Pros:

• Swim course buoys could have been more plentiful, but all parts of the course were clearly marked.
• Volunteers and course support were strong -- from packet pick up to water stations and everything in between. Special props to the dude who hauled me back up onto the dock at the end of the swim.
• Transition security was very good. I've been to races where anyone could have wandered off with thousands of dollars in beautiful bikes, and though my own bike isn't worth a million dollars, it is to me. I was glad Leonardo was in good hands. 
• The event website is good looking and well maintained and the event packet really did answer all the questions (note: I had trouble printing out the parking pass, which it turned out I didn't need anyway). 
• Results were posted in a timely manner and were available at the finish.
• The event was paired up with the Seafood Festival, which I didn't visit, but which seemed like it could have been fun for family and friends, since triathlon isn't the greatest spectator sport. 
• The athlete food tent had one of the best spreads I've ever seen at a race (including not only triathlons but also the many half-marathons and other events I've been to): 
• bacon, eggs and sausage (fresh, too, not runny and rubbery) 
• bagels with lots of different spreads 
• boxes of danish and muffins and perfectly salty pretzels
• seriously amazing doughnuts (I cannot emphasize enough how good these doughnuts were)
• I haven't seen them yet, but the race photos are free, and that's a great perk.
• Atlantic City was weird, but I think it probably appealed more to people with a different sensibility than my own. It was definitely interesting. 
• The event organizer, Stephen Del Monte (read more about him here), was patient with things like a sound system that caused his mic to go in and out, and was very much hands on. Moreover, he has a good sense of humor. Many race directors are oddly low energy and not very gregarious. It was clear he had heard feedback from previous races and worked hard to address it. There had been complaints about markings on the bike course in previous years, and it was perfectly marked this time out. 
• The event is growing and the addition of a swim only and a paddle board event indicated that Del Monte is following the trends of his target market. 
• The para-triathlete competition was tremendous. I honestly choked up a little seeing those guys do their swim. I can only hope it grows in size. 

Cons:

• The fitness "expo" on Saturday was weak. Not much there. 
• The race medals were substantial, but last year's ones that looked like big poker chips were cooler looking. A minor quibble, I realize.
• The USAT officials were doing their job on the course, but the lady who went over the rules at the pre-race meeting was very focussed on how bad behavior would be punished, without setting an encouraging expectation for good behavior. At some races people are conscientious about saying "on your left" when passing and just being polite overall; here I heard almost no one saying "on your left" and there was some aggressive drafting and passing behavior on the bike course. I wonder if a few reminders about sportsmanship might have helped. 
• The event day parking situation was a mess and delayed many people trying to get into transition to set up. 
• Sounded like there were plenty of port-o-potties but with an event of this size --more than 1,500 participants plus support personnel-- the lines were still long. 
• The room rates at the hotel were pretty high given it isn't a top tier establishment ($287 for a double queen room), nor was it a very easy walk from the hotel to the venue. It made more sense to drive, but that made the parking problem worse. I wouldn't stay here again.
• The noise from the shoe parade was awful...but I am not holding that against DelMo Sports. 

THE TAKE AWAYS:

Would I do a DelMo Sports event again? Absolutely. This is a well run outfit. 

For me as an athlete, I learned what the international distance feels like in my body, and realized that I could have given more on the course. This may be my last triathlon of the season, and I felt like it capped things off nicely. I learned a lot and know where I want to start next season. 

RACE REPORT: Great Six Flags Triathlon

A Race for Your Bucket List

I am not a roller coaster person, but how cool is it to rack your bike in the shadow of the world's tallest and fastest roller coaster? Welcome to The Great Six Flags triathlon.

Despite a kind of lame race at TriRock Asbury Park last week (lame in the sense that the swim was cancelled and my run was a joke), I was in high spirits for today's race. My limited training prompted me to switch from olympic to sprint distance. But precisely because I have had no time to train lately, I felt extremely happy just to get out there today. (Thanks to my mom who stayed over night and got up with V this morning and made her breakfast).

The Swim

The man-made lake was warm and there is a pretty nifty grandstand where families can sit to watch the action. It has often been said that triathlon isn't a spectator sport, which is basically true, but Six Flags was a reasonably good place for friends and family to watch. Moreover, racers were able to get cheap tickets to the park for the day, so if theme parks are your thing, this could be the perfect race.

The downer with the swim was that the entrance was slick and used a time trial rather than wave start (meaning you couldn't look around and compare yourself to others with same color caps and just see how well or poorly you are doing in relation to your peers). Further, the water was brackish and everyone exited covered in a kind of mud slime. I had a small chamois towel I'd left by my shoes at the swim exit, so I tried to get some of the goop off very quickly, but it was hopeless. Every inch of me was covered in what looked like viscous snail poop.

Another weird feature of this race is that there is a seemingly endless 0.3 mile distance to cover between the swim exit and the transition area where you get onto your bike. I was lucky to put my sneakers at swim exit, but I saw people trundling through the Black Beard's Lost Treasure cove in Croc shoes or flipflops. Some even ran barefoot. One word: Ouch.

There was something a little disconcerting about trying to follow the serpentine path of yellow arrows through the deserted theme park as the carousel lights twinkled and various arcade games whizzed and buzzed and clanged. I struggled to drive thoughts of the famous amusement park scene in Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train from my mind.

The Bike

The bike route began back in transition under Kingda Ka, the world's fastest and tallest roller coaster. The first bit, just getting out of the park, was a mess of loose pebbles, sand and potholes. I saw three different people fixing flat tubes on my way out.

The rest of the bike route winds through scenic hills in Cream Ridge, NJ, which is known as horse country. I noticed some people struggling with the hills, one chick was even walking her bike up one of them. It was early on in the loop, so that didn't bode well.

Although I wasn't able to maintain the 18.5mph average I've hit in my last two races, my time was reasonable (good enough for 7th place among women) and I quite enjoyed the beauty of it all. To put this in perspective, a year ago I was riding a rusty mountain bike I got at Target in 2003, and was averaging 14mph while trembling from head to toe from fear following a bad accident.

My one regrettable moment on the bike was when, on a steep downhill, I managed to pass through a thick cloud of gnats. Naturally they all adhered to the sludge coating my skin, except for the two that flew into my left eye. This was around mile 11 and there just wasn't any way to get them out of my eye while riding, so I spent the last two miles with my eye weeping as it tried to eject its passengers.

(Addendum: My friend Kathy stopped by after this race and assured me that when I finally make the move back up from flat pedals to clipless and get back on the tri bike she sold me, my speeds will increase and my leg exhaustion decrease. Those are goals for next season, as this one is drawing to a close and I am not up for changing things this late in the game.)

The Run

I have been struggling with runs lately and today was no different. The sun broke through the clouds as I set out, and even though I am certain my legs weren't over weary from the bike effort, I couldn't find my groove. I struggled and then struggled some more. Some of it was mental, but mostly it was lack of training and I knew that at the start. So I slogged along.

The final portion of the run passes through the Wild Safari area where I got to see llamas, an ostrich and even a big group of baboons. One baboon came down from its climbing structure, evidently intrigued by me and the other runners going by, and so ran along side us on the other side of the fence. And then I realized he was passing me.

I was passed by a baboon. I think that about sums up my run effort today.

Results

I finished 3rd in my age group, but that was out of three, so it doesn't count. I was 10th female in the swim, 7th female in the bike, but 37th in the run. Overall that was good enough for 17th place out of 52 female finishers. Meh.

Take aways 

If you have the opportunity to run under giant twirling teacups, through a pirate cove and past a baboon, you must take it! You only live once, people.

RACE REPORT: TriRock Asbury Park, NJ - 2014

Time for another race report, this time for TriRock Asbury Park, sprint distance.

The situation 

Asbury Park, Aug. 24, 2014 - The historic carousel building in the background

Like an idiot, I positioned two races on back to back weekends at the end of August, when I have perhaps the most hectic schedule of my entire school year. I believe I thought having them there would keep me motivated, but mostly it has stressed me out.

I was on a training roll after Jersey Girl Tri three weeks ago, but the past two weeks I have had to juggle childcare, start of work, and various personal calamities and haven't been able to train much. I hate the antsy feeling that comes from not being able to work out.

I have been treating my anxiety with significant quantities of homemade peppermint stix ice cream from Gil & Bert's, which has, in fact, helped a lot with the stress, but probably hasn't done much for my overall fitness level.

Motivation issues

Race face.

I dragged myself out of bed at 4:45am to get to the race feeling blob-like and missing my training buddy, Maria, who as been down with bronchitis all week and couldn't make it. (Note: These early wake-ups aren't as easy as they were when I had to do them twice a week for masters swim. Fortunately that starts again next week.)

Usually I start to feel pumped on the way to races. I listen to music, go through my mental checklists one last time. Today all I could think about was turning around and heading back to my nice warm bed. I honestly thought I might ditch out until the actual moment the airhorn sounded to start the race.

I yawned my way from the car to the transition area and set up my gear (the good news is I'm getting better at setting up and at being minimalist, which is key). While organizing my socks and shoes, I overheard some people near me talking about the swim portion being cancelled because of rip tides. I whipped my head around. WTF? 

Taking things in stride...literally 

Sure enough, the event coordinator came over the loud speaker a few moments later and indicated that we would be doing a run--->bike--->run course instead of a swim--->bike--->run course. The first run would be 1.3 miles to make up for the swim.

My heart sank. The swim is my best and favorite aspect of triathlon, Asbury is a lovely place to swim, and looking forward to it had provided about 60% of the motivation I'd used to get to the race in the first place. Instead I faced the prospect of extra running.

My running times have plateaued lately, as I have spent more time getting comfortable on the bike this season, trying to beat back the anxiety that came after my bike accident last summer. At this point I find it easier to go for a ride than to get out for a run, especially on hot days, the exact opposite of what I experienced a year ago.

Given the rough training weeks, my coach, Chris, had stressed that I needed to look at this race as a chance to enjoy the mere fact of being able to compete in triathlon, and to build my repository of race day experience. I focussed on that as much as possible.

Solutions 

Add caption

Here's what helped me get through the day:

1. Knowing that I was getting a lesson in flexibility by having to live without the swim
2. Listening to this big hairy dude on a cellphone berating a training buddy who was running late and was (like me) also considering ditching out and heading home...The guy kept yelling: "Man up, bro! Man up!" I felt he was speaking to me.
3. Since the stakes were low, I embraced the chance to people watch. Triathletes are funny people. 

Best people watching moments included: 

• spotting a dog in a race shirt; 
• watching a skinny Asian lady down both halves of a large beef burrito a mere ten minutes before the starting gun; 
• observing incredibly chivalrous port-o-potty etiquette; 
• picking up some new race lingo from a couple of young bucks who referred to their bike wheels as "spinnerets," a term I had perviously known only in relation spider anatomy, and which seemed both effete and tough at the same time; 
• counting the number of times one girl, in a group of five 20-somethings who were all wearing peach T-shirts, said "DUDE!"; 
• and noting that Zoot and Sugoi tri shoes are very much en vogue this season. 

Where possible I tried to take pictures. 

My race

My race went about as expected. I held a 9:15 pace for the first run section (a good speed for me). I averaged 18.4 mph (according to the unofficial results) on the bike (also good for me), and my final run was the labored slog I had anticipated. I am not a huge fan of running on the uneven boardwalk planks, though the ocean views are pretty. In the last mile the heat started to get to me, but I met a very enthusiastic guy named Bill and we pushed each other through the last half mile or so. I ended strong. 

Take aways: I learned strategies for taking race day changes in stride. I got some exercise. People gave me a medal and a banana for this. So I would call that a good day. 

Postlude: Some Thoughts on Corporate Race Companies

TriRock is owned by Competitor Group Inc. (which also owns a number of sports themed magazines and the Rock n' Roll marathon series, the NFL Run series and Muddy Buddy), a very much for profit entity that says it "represents a game-changing collection of dynamic media and participatory event assets." They also say they "deliver life-changing experiences." 

Is this true? Who can say. 

What I can tell you is that their health expo was paltry and that the actual amount of music, rock or any other kind, was minimal. However, their volunteer workers (yes, the massive quantities of money are being made on the backs of volunteer labor) were pleasant and well meaning, even though some of the race crew members seemed like homeless guys who had been handed blue shirts and told to set up orange cones. (Am I jaded for thinking that Competitor Group Inc. probably pitches the use of local homeless as "community service" when they are trying to impress potential clients?) 

TriRock Asbury Park finishers' medals from
2013 (left) and 2014. The guitar medalion
was also a bottle opener, for those moments
when you are opening a beer and need to make
clear you once completed a triathlon. 

Where other races donate almost all their profits to important charities like Parkinson's research or disaster relief, TriRock seems like it supports good causes just enough that they can say they that they do good and try to offer participants a way to feel good about spending $100 on registration. Competitor Group is a money making entity and charities eat into profit margins. On the other hand, because the event is delivered by professionals, it runs smoothly. There were some good vendors and one of the better post race food spreads I have ever seen. 

This year TriRock even improved their finishers' medals so they didn't look as chintzy as last year's. I suspect they got feedback and realized that was not a great place to try to cut costs. 

Will I do the race again next year? Probably not, but not because I object to TriRock. It's just not a great time to fit a race into my schedule. And besides: rip tides. 

Don't neglect your ceiling

If you are going to do triathlon, you will also have to do core workouts (crunches and some other stuff), so you may as well put something interesting on your ceiling to inspire you while you are lying there.

I put a couple of pictures and a poem up above my workout mat. I just wrote the poem in sharpie on a poster board. It helps me keep going.

Here's the poem:

in celebration of surviving
chuck miller

when senselessness has pounded you around on the ropes
and you're getting too old to hold out for the future
no work and running out of money,
and then you make a try after something that you know you
   won't get
and this long shot comes through on the stretch
in a photo finish of your heart's trepidation
then for a while
even when the chill factor of these prairie winters puts it at
   fifty below
you're warm and have that old feeling
of being a comer, though belated
in the crazy game of life

standing in the winter night
emptying the garbage and looking at the stars
you realize that although the odds are fantastically against you
when that single January shooting star
flung its wad in the maw of night
it was yours
and though the years are edged with crime and squalor
that second wind, or twenty-third
is coming strong
and for a time
perhaps a very short time
one lives as though in a golden envelope of light.

RACE REPORT: Jersey Girl Tri - Long Branch, NJ

Was it a good race? Hard to say.

(For a bullet point synopsis scroll to the bottom.)

My friend Julia and I arrived at 5:30am and set up in transition in pouring rain with my other workout pal Maria. The atmosphere was good; it was an all women race and there were lots of first-timers who were really excited.

Unfortunately after five minutes in the cold rain I was shaking like a leaf, walking around in my bare feet and soaked sweatshirt (forgot my flipflops, though they wouldn't have helped anyway).

I got in the ocean for a warm up swim, but mostly I was rolled around in the big breakers like I was in a laundry machine. I got sand under all my clothes which was not pleasant, but the water temperature was fine and the course was short so I knew I didn't need a wet suit.

The race was supposed to have close to 1,300+ participants. I think if you count relays, duathlon and aquavelo sections, along with the primary sprint racers, it came out to more like 1,000. The sprint itself had 875 finishers. I suspect some people stayed home because of the rain.

Jersey Girl Sprint Triathlon
Long Branch, NJ - Aug 3, 2014

Heading into the water I felt prepared. I haven't been at masters swim the last month, and didn't get much chance to swim on the Cape (seems odd, but true). Swimming is my natural element, however, and today proved a good day for me in the water. I started at my favorite spot at the front on the inside corner of the pack. I like to be as close as possible to the straight line out the first buoy, and I made a slight adjustment to compensate for the current and wave patterns.

The one thing I did get to practice in terms of swimming while we were on the Cape was open water starts in the ocean. That came in mighty handy. I made it through the breakers quickly and only saw a few people in my wave ahead of me (green caps). By the time we got to the first buoy I felt strong and saw only one other green cap near me. I stayed right on her hip to draft until we got to the second buoy and turned to head in, at which point I lost sight of her. We had to ride the breakers to shore, so I was concentrating on that. In the end I was third in my age group out of the water.

It was a short swim but a long run up the sand. I pushed hard and my heart was pounding going through transition, but I did it exactly like I'd practiced with my coach, Chris, on Friday. I ran through the puddles heading into the transition area and that got the sand off my feet. Sock. Shoe. Sock. Shoe. Belt. Helmet. Water. GO!! I was satisfied with my speed on that and it was good enough for 5th fastest in my age group. It is infuriating to lose time in transition, something I have struggled with before, so I was glad to see improvement.

Out on the bike course the rain was pelting down, but I had a huge advantage from having ridden the course with Maria the previous week. The first 2.5 miles had a lot of turns and I knew I couldn't easily get up to the speeds I wanted there, but I did much better than I'd anticipated. I hit the turn onto the straightaway and felt strong. I was passing people continuously, watching as my spedometer made it up into the 20mph range for a good portion of the first half of the ride. In the end I averaged a 18.5 mph for the 11 miles, which was good enough for third in my age group. Considering a year ago I was clunking along at 14-15mph, I would say I am making solid gains in this area.

At the turn around we had the wind in our faces and on the second half of the bike course it was much harder to keep my speed where I wanted it. Seemed like everyone else was dealing with the same thing though. I pushed and pushed, but realized as I came into my second transition that my stomach was hurting and I felt kind of gross. I took a few extra seconds to get some fluids in me. Thus my second transition time was a bit slower than it could have been.

Out on the run course, things wouldn't go my way. I had my Garmin on and wanted to hit those 9:15 miles like I have been in practice, but either I spent too much energy on the bike or a stressful week full of sleepless nights caught up with me. I was doing 10 minute miles and watching people in my age group fly by me. It was hard to keep my spirits up. In the final mile I pushed with all my might, thought about Valentine and all the love people have shown me this week, but there wasn't anything left in the tank. I had a stitch in my side, my lungs were wheezing.

To top it all off, just as I was two feet away from the finishing mats, some chick in my age group blasted by me, exactly like what happened at Jersey Shore.

That was a real low point.

I tried to remind myself that at Jersey Shore I knew I hadn't left it all out on the course where the run was concerned, whereas today I definitely had. Still, it is precious little comfort to realize I left it all out there and yet it was not up to what I knew I was capable of. I knew part way into the run that I didn't have a prayer of hitting the podium in my age group, and I had known it was a long shot in a race of this size, but still, I had hoped, particularly because I knew I posted a solid bike time. So there was some disappointment.

In the end, I came in 61st out of 875 (good enough for the top 8% -- I'll take that) and 13th in my age group, which was 160 people deep. I have never done that well before, so I should be happy with it but I have adjusted my perception of what I can do this year and so I can't help thinking about what I could have improved.

Looking backward for a minute, however, I realize that this time last year I would never have believed I'd be averaging 18.5 on the bike. I was doing 14-16mph in races and that right there was a struggle. I have made real gains with the biking, despite lingering fears following last year's accident. I still love the water and now just need to pull the running together and be able to put all the pieces together at the olympic distance. I've got my work cut out for me.

Additional stats: in my age group I came in 3rd on both the swim and the bike, and was 5th fastest coming through T1. Just as I thought, I lost time in T2 and nose dived on the run. But it was a solid effort.

I look forward to ramping back up for the rest of this month, ready to power through TriRock Asbury Park on the 24th and then do my first olympic distance at Six Flags on the 31st.

Today's big take away: I am capable of so much more and because I truly love triathlon and have so many great friends who train along side me, I knew I will do better in the future.

IN BRIEF: 

Good things about this sprint triathlon:

• came in 13th in my age group out of 160, and 61st overall out of 875
• plenty of good energy on the course, lots of cheerers and spectators despite the rain
• I got to rack next to (and hang out with) my new friend Julia and my workout teammate Maria
• people cheered for me because I was wearing my Jersey Girls Multisport team jersey
• I felt strong on the swim and bike sections and maybe improved my transitions a tiny bit
• there were a lot of first timers at the race and they were very enthusiastic; it was nice to be able to help out and to be encouraging
• I like the finishers' medal 

Things about this tri that could have gone better:

• I couldn't get much sleep the night before
• It was raining hard (though, I grant you, that's better than heat) and I got very cold
• the ocean waves left sand all in my kit so it was grinding and chafing me all race
• my run didn't go as well as I wanted, and I got passed by someone in my age group right at the finish line...again
• I really wanted a bagel afterward and there were turkey sandwiches instead; I can't get with a turkey sandwich at 9am

When life is dark, can you get your butt to the park?

WARNING: This post is not a post about triathlon training. It is not a race report. In fact, it contains things that may look like advice, but are actually my empirical evaluations and speculations about the world. It is not meant to be more obnoxious self help crap you don't need. I have zero qualifications. I am not Oprah. I have made so many disastrous decisions in my life, I am in no position to offer advice to anyone. Please ignore anything your good sense tells you is off base.

Reread the warning before you begin.

Now, several blog followers have written to to say they appreciate my positive attitude and my candor about my journey. What people seem to really respond to is the evidence that it is possible for an average person, even late in life, to make permanent and substantial changes to improve their mental and physical health. I love these letters. They make my day.

However, a few people have also noted that as much as they want to improve their own health in a similar way, they don't think it would be possible given their complex lives and quantity of stress. In this post I want to delve into that issue in more depth, because it deserves thoughtful consideration.

ARE YOU IN A POSITION TO CHANGE?
First, I think we must consider just how serious and dire people's personal situations can be.

If you are living in circumstances where:

• your basic needs are barely being met or aren't at all
• you are in physical danger or living with ongoing fear (real or perceived)
• you have little or no social support
• you are coping with untreated medical conditions

then you are absolutely right to balk if anyone suggests that with a little effort you could turn things around. In fact, I would be impressed if you managed to merely roll your eyes and walk away, rather than slapping the person who plied you with such platitudes in the face, which would be a perfectly rational response. (*See post script for more thoughts on this)

I am sure somewhere out there there is a mother of five living in a refugee camp training for a marathon. Super human people exist. But I can't tell you where they find their strength, because I am not that strong. I admire them beyond belief and hope God has stashed in me a tiny speck of their courage and determination. I am nothing like those people. I like to think I'm a good time, maybe have a little skill at my job, try to be a good friend and whatnot, but I am not a hero.

So that begs the question: who is really going to be able to make substantial life changes and under what conditions, particularly if they are certain they are of average courage?

Maybe you aren't living as a sex slave or being held by a terrorist group, but what if you are caring for a very sick family member in your home, or raising a disabled child, or working four low-wage jobs, or being stalked by a crazy ex, or struggling with addiction? Sometimes what are dismissed as "first world problems" are very serious obstacles to making life changes.

If I am honest, I know I longed to change my path for years, made some attempts that failed and then felt like swamp sludge. The cycle of attempt-failure-shame was hard to stop. I kept thinking: here I am, a middle-class person with a job and many advantages, how come I can't pull myself together? 

I was sure it was a mark of my fundamental laziness and poor character that I would do ten sit-ups during a commercial break and then slink into the kitchen for a pint of mint-chip. Now I look back and see all the things that were working against me at that time and feel a little amazed I even did the ten sit-ups.

THE MINIMUM FIVE FOR NORMAL HUMANS
In my own process of change, given that I know full well I am of average discipline and courage, I have concluded that the following five minimum conditions must be met for a person to have enough room to enact significant fitness and health changes:

1. You have to have at least two people who care about you and are encouraging at every step, and at least one has to be a mentor or friend you talk to frequently (these people can live far away, but they can't be secretly, even subconsciously, trying to undermine you out of jealousy or because you threaten their own sense of the world)
2. You cannot be living with someone who is maintaining the exact kind of unhealthy lifestyle you want to move away from (and by unhealthy lifestyle, I mean anything from having a constant negative attitude to being a sedentary, lethargic overeater) 
3. You can't be working three or more jobs, especially if you don't know what your schedule will be from week to week (though you can be going to school and working one job or two part time jobs)
4. You have to be certain you will be able to pay the bills and keep a roof over your head (that does not mean you don't have debt)
5. You can't be in an abusive relationship or fighting addiction or an under-treated medical condition (you can, however, be in a situation where you are caring for other people's very large needs, including the needs of children and those with health problems)

It helps if the supporters live close by, if you have a steady job with benefits, if you have a tiny crumb of self esteem and so on, but we can't have everything. 

If you are dealing with abuse or addiction or a major health problem, I think you are probably going to need to draw on external resources (doctors, therapists, treatment) before you can start activating the internal ones needed to make the kinds of changes I'm talking about. 

Bear in mind, these are just my observations. Don't assume if you don't have all five of these things in order you can't get there. But I think a lot of people need to chip away at the impediments one at a time until they have things in order before trying to make other bigger changes (* Again, see post script for more thoughts on this). If you don't address the problems listed above, I think you will probably find, as I did, that you are repeating the attempt-failure-shame cycle. 

I ALMOST MEET THE MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS. NOW WHAT?

Guess what I'm not going to say? I am not going to say "take it one day at a time." I am not going to say "keep a smile on your face and be grateful for what you've got." I am not going to say "God gives you what he thinks you can handle." If you have seen it on a poster in a guidance counselor's office, I am not going to say it. Mantras can be helpful (see previous post), but platitudes are really annoying.

(Note: Much of what follows is discussed in earlier posts, but this is a cheap summary)

TRIGGER

As far as I am concerned, the way you start is usually that the discomfort is building for a while and somewink wink) triggers in you a sudden yearning to change. For me it was the day my daughter saw my belly exposed and said: "Oh, mama, you don't have a belly button." I was so big, the kid could not see my belly button. That got to me way more than my blood work that showed I had pre-diabetes and high cholesterol.

Took this the same day as the belly button convo.
I am pretty sure you do NOT want to see the belly button pic.

particular incident or moment (or blog post...

MAD DASH

When this moment hits you, you must jump to your feet before your low self-esteem kicks in, put on your sturdiest shoes and go for a slog. Maybe it's not a jog exactly, but make it more than a walk. Try to go for 20 minutes. That's the amount of time that I've heard somewhere is what it takes to release enough endorphins to help elevate mood. If you hate running, and you probably will after that first run (let's call it a run), that doesn't much matter. You don't have to stick with running, but it's cheap and if you had to get your golf clubs and shoes on and get down to the country club at the moment the trigger came, lord knows you'd never make it, not if you are anything like me, anyway. 

ANNOUNCE PLANS

Announce your plans to yourself and your mentors. Wait to put it on Facebook until you've got a little momentum going. 

GO TO STAPLES FOR SUPPLIES

I am a hugely visual person, so while those minimum number of endorphins from the first run were still

Here are the first year's worth of posters. I have all of

the second and part of the third year on this wall too.

sort of working, I went to Staples for poster board and post-it notes and started making these big old wall calendars that I planned to use to track my progress. I like the smell of Elmers glue, I like colored markers (particularly the turquoise and amber shades), and I like crafts projects. So I accidentally rewarded my own running efforts with the chance to sit around and glue stuff to poster board and then stick it to the wall like a first grader. In fact, I let my first grader help out. 

ASK WHOOPIE FOR HELP

I put the boards in a place where I had to see them all the time. I made six months worth of calendar, which seemed outrageous, but I figured what the f**k.  I printed out and glued on pictures of my favorite celebrity role models and gave them little speech bubbles that said things like "Go for a run, Holly! It will make you funnier!" That was Whoopie Goldberg talking. I also had Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Oprah, the Indigo Girls, my best friend Kathy and a bunch of others on there. It may not be Whoopie for you, but you need voices of support. 

PHOTOGRAPH YOUR BELLY BUTTON

My first goal was to run five days per week. I was 230lbs. I was obese. I took a picture of my fat self with no belly button and hid it in a folder on my computer. I told myself to forget it was in there but reminded myself that folder had some kind of goal in it, it wasn't a fat shaming folder. The goal was belly

Whoopi helped

button. It was a lot easier to think "belly button" than to think "remove 70 pounds." Obviously you don't have to photography your own belly button, but you may want to find a way to mark the occasion, telling yourself you will someday need it to show yourself how far you've come. 

For those early runs I set myself the task of slogging two miles. It seemed like a marathon, but also like a minimum distance that a human should be able to go, even if they were the size of an orca. I was running 13 minute miles so it was hard to pretend I couldn't carve 26 minutes plus time for a shower out of my day for this.

I wore baggy clothes, was sure people were staring and laughing at me, and ran faster when I saw trees up ahead so I could hide in heavily wooded areas. It was also hot out. It was July. So the shade was nice. During each run I sweated the amount an entire NBA all stars team does during a full season. 

DO SOMETHING CRAZY

Every day I wrote on my wall calendar the number of miles I had run. I took two days off per week. When I ran 3 in stead of 2 miles for the first time --and nearly fainted from exhaustion-- I put a huge smiley sticker on my board. It's surprising how childish things like stickers can help. I had a tiny scrap of momentum behind me. 

After a week, feeling slightly almost a tiny bit proud of myself, I decided to cut out sugar and carbs but not limit anything else in my entire diet. Please let me be clear: this is not a miracle diet. In fact, this is a diet that may not get anyone anywhere. Low carb could be just be a fad. Basically any calorie reduction is something and for me lots of protein seemed to help me not dive for the Ben & Jerry's. 

My craziest maneuver came at the suggestion of two friends. I signed up for a half marathon that was two months away. I needed a goal. I liked being able to justify my need to take a tiny scrap of time for myself to run by telling people I was training for a half marathon. At work I heard people accidentally mentioned to others that I was training for a marathon (rather than a half marathon). I did not correct them.

Bit by bit the momentum built up. I liked how I felt. I faltered a bit here and there. I kept going. I added stuff when I felt like it. But it wouldn't have made much progress if those five requirements I mentioned hadn't been satisfied. 

In particular I would have failed if I hadn't had support from my wife, if my daughter hadn't cheered for my belly button, if my friend Kathy hadn't sent me that pair of socks, if my friend Maria hadn't invited me to workout with her, if Ruth Bader Ginsberg hadn't told me she could run faster than me while carrying a lace doily on her head...It was a team effort.

Hey Girl! You know you want to run with me.

CAN YOU DO IT?

I don't know what your situation is, but if you are dealing with problems that are vaguely, sort of, almost manageable, you can do it. I did, and I'm nothing special. I didn't say you'd have to get up at 5am or take a spin class or get a fancy pair of shoes. Maybe at some point on the journey that will seem reasonable, but first run for 26 minutes. That's enough. That's Facebook time. And then send me an email and let me know what you are up to so I can cheer for you. Then I'll send you some socks and if you live in a 500 mile radius I'll come meet you for a slog. Sound like a deal?

Yes, I think you can do it. 

______________________

*POST SCRIPT

Last year I had a student in one of my English classes who told me she was going to write her end of term research paper on how the obesity problem in the United States was the responsibility of individuals. They had made themselves fat, she told me, and they were the only ones who could do anything about it. 

She was a black woman in her late 30's and identified herself as obese. I asked her a bit about her own experiences. She told me she lived in downtown Trenton. She had no car and the only grocery options she could walk to were Muncheez, 7-11, WaWa, fast food and a Dominican bodega. She was a Navy veteran and mother of three and she was caring for her mother-in-law who had lost one leg to diabetes. They lived on the third floor of a housing building and there was no elevator. Her family did not qualify for food stamps. That's right. She didn't meet the requirements from food stamps based on some aspect of her status as a veteran. There were no parks that were safe for her children to go to in their neighborhood. 

As she went on, I thought she was going to see that personal agency might play only a small part in her own situation and potentially the obesity epidemic as a whole. Instead she concluded by saying: "I know I am fat. I know I put shit in my mouth that I shouldn't. I am just lazy." 

I told her she needed to do the research to see if her position was supported by current research into the field of obesity. I felt hopeful that she would be thorough and would be persuaded out of her original view. 

She eventually accepted, almost as if it upset her to do so, that the preponderance of data suggested institutional problems played a larger role than personal agency in cases such as her own. I realized as I was grading her paper, however, that the whole thing must have been a let down for her. If the problem was mainly she lived in a system that was set up so she'd fail, then her desire to have better health by mustering up a bit more resilience was almost certainly hopeless. 

I regret that I let her write that paper and hope she just put what she learned out of her head. I should have encouraged her to research sustainable agriculture or something. I see my students arrive every day with the American Dream tattooed on their hearts, and it is soul crushing to realize how few of them will be able to overcome all that is conspiring against their success. 

Still, I do see successes, and this student did land a job at a medical office. She credited the unit I did with the class on resume writing and job interviews with helping her get hired. She was really happy she'd have regular hours so she could sit with her son after dinner and help him with his homework. She wasn't talking to me about her weight anymore.