In keeping with Dimity’s post about her pooch, I’d like to attest that you can teach an “old” dog new tricks. I’m very excited about a technique-breakthrough I just had on the rowing machine.
I fancy myself as very fit and fairly strong, but the rowing machine (a.k.a. “erg”—or should I say “GRRRR-erg!”) has always been my nemesis. To me, an erg is torturous on so many levels—mentally, aerobically, anaerobically, butt-wise (my arse gets SO sore from sitting while using glutes!), and emotionally. I’m not terrible at erging, but I’ve never been able to live up to my true potential on an erg. I always believed there was some secret to success on the erg but I’d missed the memo.
Then last Saturday, my rowing coach, Kalle, sat down on an erg next to me. A tone of defeat seeped into his voice as he began discussing the problems he saw with my stroke. Not a good start: My usual optimism flagged. My dreams of a shared-secret started to crumble—maybe I do suck. Kalle said I wasn’t utilizing my height (I’m 5’ 11”—I only look like a pygmy next to dear 6’ 4” Dimity!), especially my long legs. He wasn’t sure whether it was muscle tightness, technique, or what that kept me from literally reaching my potential—he just knew I needed to fix it.
He talked a bit more, and then I started erging again. Kalle’s words were ringing in my ears. I sensed he felt as discouraged as I did. But then fortune smiled down on me, and something clicked. All I had to do was think about trying to get the handle as close as possible to the front of the erg on each recovery and—bingo—my 500-meter splits were suddenly 10 to 15 seconds faster with no real extra effort. At last, the secret is mine!
-Sarah
Monday, January 7, 2008
Thursday, January 3, 2008
My Empathetic Hound
Just as my IT band is finally starting to not be so freakin' angry at me--I ran 4 miles on the dreadmill yesterday! and loved every step! hurray!--our dog, Dharma, decides she needs to carry the injury torch in our house. Something happened to her on her walk on Saturday morning (what, I'm not sure, since my not-always-totally-attentive husband was on leash duty), and she started limping that afternoon.
Thinking it was a pulled muscle (and honestly, being too cheap to take her to the vet on a Sunday or holiday), I thought I'd give her a couple days to mend. When she was still hobbling around yesterday morning, though, I called the vet. After x-rays and a thorough examination, she discerned that nothing is broken, but that Dharma has a seriously swollen "wrist." Hence the bandage to keep her from bending it too much. She's on some super effective pain meds, which I had to pick up at Target (a bit embarrassing when they say, "Your insurance card please," and you reply, "Um, it's for my dog."). They make her so drowsy, the princess gets carried up the stairs at night and down in the morning.
I think the pink soft cast, which matches her collar, is adorable. And in my cheap mind, for a $200 visit, it should be.
Happy 2008 and many good miles to runners and canines alike--
Dimity
Monday, December 31, 2007
Remembrance of Runs Past
The end of the year is a time for reminiscing, so it was fitting that my run on Saturday spurred me to think back on runs past. Phoebe and I were up in Seattle, visiting my two best friends from college, including Kati, my roommate on a summer of 1987 study group in the then-U.S.S.R.
As I set out on Saturday morning, I didn’t have much of an agenda—no tempo or speedwork, just an easy 45-minute tromp in a new-to-me setting. My hosts had suggested I run to the “beach” and that sounded good to me. As I took in the gorgeous panorama, enjoying a long downhill, I thought about the summer Kati and I spent in Moscow and the three-times-a-week runs I took there. Glasnost was flowering, but Westerners still didn’t enjoy free reign. But those morning miles gave me glimpses into the daily lives of Muscovites.
The Seattle skyline prompted me to remember running in San Francisco, where I lived (and ran) for eight years. In particular, I thought about a run I did with my friends Kate and Elizabeth when we were training for an adventure race (we went on to win the women’s division rootie-toot-toot!). We had ridden our bikes over to Tiburon, and then we ran a loop there with stunning views of Coit Tower, the Transamerica Pyramid, and the rest of downtown San Fran.
Snippets of countless other runs flittered through my at-ease mind as I ran along the West Seattle waterfront. Even the steady, mile-long climb up from the beach didn’t diminish the joy I felt on my Saturday run. Maybe it was the delight of a new setting or maybe it was the memories, but it was one of my most enjoyable runs of 2007. I look forward to tapping into that kind of joy many times in the New Year.
-Sarah
As I set out on Saturday morning, I didn’t have much of an agenda—no tempo or speedwork, just an easy 45-minute tromp in a new-to-me setting. My hosts had suggested I run to the “beach” and that sounded good to me. As I took in the gorgeous panorama, enjoying a long downhill, I thought about the summer Kati and I spent in Moscow and the three-times-a-week runs I took there. Glasnost was flowering, but Westerners still didn’t enjoy free reign. But those morning miles gave me glimpses into the daily lives of Muscovites.
The Seattle skyline prompted me to remember running in San Francisco, where I lived (and ran) for eight years. In particular, I thought about a run I did with my friends Kate and Elizabeth when we were training for an adventure race (we went on to win the women’s division rootie-toot-toot!). We had ridden our bikes over to Tiburon, and then we ran a loop there with stunning views of Coit Tower, the Transamerica Pyramid, and the rest of downtown San Fran.
Snippets of countless other runs flittered through my at-ease mind as I ran along the West Seattle waterfront. Even the steady, mile-long climb up from the beach didn’t diminish the joy I felt on my Saturday run. Maybe it was the delight of a new setting or maybe it was the memories, but it was one of my most enjoyable runs of 2007. I look forward to tapping into that kind of joy many times in the New Year.
-Sarah
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Yards and yucks
Just a brief post to follow up on my resolutions. (Aren't I the proactive one, already starting on 2008 two days early?) Swam 2,500 yards this afternoon, which is the longest I've logged in years (got a great workout from this site: I hate just swimming laps with no plan). Trying to build up my swimming endurance so I can join the masters team that swims at Colorado College at the amazingly painful hour of 5:30 a.m. I think I can handle the pre-rooster-crow waking time--I live just minutes from the pool--but the distance is another story. They swim for 90 minutes, putting in at least 3,500 yards a practice. Hello shoulders! But because I want to be with a team (and a coach), I'm going to pretend I can handle the extra 1,000 yards and take the plunge with them next Monday.
The good news is that I'll be fueled by butternut squash, carrots, cauliflower and other healthy purees I'm trying to sneak into my kids food. I spent a rocking Saturday night last night steaming and roasting the aforementioned veggies, then pureeing them. Amelia and I made carrot muffins this morning, which had 1/2 cup of pureed cauliflower in them. I'm not a cauliflower fan--stirring the puree in made me want to retch; Amelia wouldn't even touch the spoon--but thought the cinnamon and carrots and brown sugar would hide the skunky taste. I even let Amelia sprinkle a little colored sugar on the top of them so she'd be extra enthused to eat them. No luck. She took one bite of the frosting (cream cheese, powered sugar, frozen orange juice) and gagged. I cut that off, she took a bite of the muffin and gagged again. She could easily lead the thespians, once she gets to high school. Ben had a few bites but left most of it on his plate. Grant, my husband, liked them, and I tolerated them, but I'm glad I didn't make a double batch. I think I'll try the peanut butter and jelly ones next.
I was going to make the the english muffin pizzas for dinner; under the cheese and sauce, you are supposed to hide pureed spinach, but thought better of it after this morning's debacle. So we just made the pizzas, and she barely touched hers. This get-her-to-eat-more-foods battle will be harder than a marathon.
Dimity
The good news is that I'll be fueled by butternut squash, carrots, cauliflower and other healthy purees I'm trying to sneak into my kids food. I spent a rocking Saturday night last night steaming and roasting the aforementioned veggies, then pureeing them. Amelia and I made carrot muffins this morning, which had 1/2 cup of pureed cauliflower in them. I'm not a cauliflower fan--stirring the puree in made me want to retch; Amelia wouldn't even touch the spoon--but thought the cinnamon and carrots and brown sugar would hide the skunky taste. I even let Amelia sprinkle a little colored sugar on the top of them so she'd be extra enthused to eat them. No luck. She took one bite of the frosting (cream cheese, powered sugar, frozen orange juice) and gagged. I cut that off, she took a bite of the muffin and gagged again. She could easily lead the thespians, once she gets to high school. Ben had a few bites but left most of it on his plate. Grant, my husband, liked them, and I tolerated them, but I'm glad I didn't make a double batch. I think I'll try the peanut butter and jelly ones next.
I was going to make the the english muffin pizzas for dinner; under the cheese and sauce, you are supposed to hide pureed spinach, but thought better of it after this morning's debacle. So we just made the pizzas, and she barely touched hers. This get-her-to-eat-more-foods battle will be harder than a marathon.
Dimity
Friday, December 28, 2007
Resolution 2008: What's it going to be?
On the heels of a fun but exhausting Christmas--how exhausting? I fell asleep last night at 8 p.m., after reading the riveting Hanna Andersson sale catalog, which is all of about 12 pages--I'm ready to move on to 2008. Ready to get back on track, get my body back to expecting and needing exercise. I've hit two spin classes in the past two days, trying to compensate for my lack of any exercise over the past 5 days and my overindulgence in anything that contains the letters "choc" or "cookie". The sweat felt sooooo good, but my body felt rusty.
As I grease the wheels over the next couple days, I'm also thinking resolutions. As I learned this year, having a goal and a plan creates non-negotiable me-time and gives structure to my otherwise overflowing days: both unexpected, but now absolutely necessary, benefits. But I also learned, again and again, that my 35-year-old body isn't getting younger, and my aches and injuries--everything from a stress fracture to an inflamed IT band, the latest malady--require thought and TLC, not a plow-through it attitude. As such, I don't think another marathon is a great idea.
So here are the resolutions darting in and out of my brain these days:
1. To compete in sprint and Olympic distance triathlons. I've done a couple triathlons, and the mixed disciplines suit my body the best: I love to swim; biking doesn't hurt my body that much (o.k., getting used to the minuscule seat again can be pretty painful); and the running portion is just survival. Plus, if I limit it to Olympic distance, the longest I'll run is 10k, which feels like the right distance for now.
2. To go beyond simple survival in a triathlon, which has always been my M.O. I'm interested to see if I can actually go fast, not just put it into cruise control.
3. To do a race that involves a group of friends, whether that means the Lotoja, a 206-mile bike in Logan, Utah to Jackson Hole, Wyoming (my friend Marit and I would be a team, splitting the distance); creating a team for the Wild West Relay, Colorado's version of the Hood to Coast; or getting a team together for a triathlon. Nothing beats crossing the finish line with a friend next to you.
4. Continue to keep my core strong. I tried a Pilates mat class last week, and was surprised at how much I liked it. Much better than grunting out the plank on my own.
5. With all that said--triathlons!, go faster!, organize a team!, build a six-pack!-- I have to remember to back off as necessary: realize five workouts a week is plenty; realize that my kids aren't always going to want to sit on my lap and make up goofy songs about lizards; realize that my best, whatever it may be on that particular day, is good enough.
6. One final, unrelated resolution, which will probably be the hardest to achieve, which is why I'm putting it out for public consumption: make just one meal for dinner and eat it, ideally, as a family. The kids' menu is variations of the same things--chicken nuggets, cheese pizza, corn and peas, carrots, apples, pears...the basic kid staples--and it's time to expand their repertoire (and, consequently, expand my husband's and mine, since I'm usually too wiped to make our dinner after I make theirs. I think we single-handedly keep Honey Nut Cheerios on the shelves, we eat it so often for dinner). So with 2008 comes the addition of chicken (in a non-nugget form) tacos, hamburgers, rice and beans and other kid-friendly but still adult-appropriate dinners. Amelia has probably already warmed up her gag reflexes, but I'm armed to take her on: I just bought Jessica Seinfeld's controversial Deceptively Delicious. If Amelia and Ben can stomach homemade mac and cheese--yes, they won't even eat that!--they'll be rewarded with brownies, laced with spinach, for dessert.
What are your resolutions, running or otherwise?
Dimity
As I grease the wheels over the next couple days, I'm also thinking resolutions. As I learned this year, having a goal and a plan creates non-negotiable me-time and gives structure to my otherwise overflowing days: both unexpected, but now absolutely necessary, benefits. But I also learned, again and again, that my 35-year-old body isn't getting younger, and my aches and injuries--everything from a stress fracture to an inflamed IT band, the latest malady--require thought and TLC, not a plow-through it attitude. As such, I don't think another marathon is a great idea.
So here are the resolutions darting in and out of my brain these days:
1. To compete in sprint and Olympic distance triathlons. I've done a couple triathlons, and the mixed disciplines suit my body the best: I love to swim; biking doesn't hurt my body that much (o.k., getting used to the minuscule seat again can be pretty painful); and the running portion is just survival. Plus, if I limit it to Olympic distance, the longest I'll run is 10k, which feels like the right distance for now.
2. To go beyond simple survival in a triathlon, which has always been my M.O. I'm interested to see if I can actually go fast, not just put it into cruise control.
3. To do a race that involves a group of friends, whether that means the Lotoja, a 206-mile bike in Logan, Utah to Jackson Hole, Wyoming (my friend Marit and I would be a team, splitting the distance); creating a team for the Wild West Relay, Colorado's version of the Hood to Coast; or getting a team together for a triathlon. Nothing beats crossing the finish line with a friend next to you.
4. Continue to keep my core strong. I tried a Pilates mat class last week, and was surprised at how much I liked it. Much better than grunting out the plank on my own.
5. With all that said--triathlons!, go faster!, organize a team!, build a six-pack!-- I have to remember to back off as necessary: realize five workouts a week is plenty; realize that my kids aren't always going to want to sit on my lap and make up goofy songs about lizards; realize that my best, whatever it may be on that particular day, is good enough.
6. One final, unrelated resolution, which will probably be the hardest to achieve, which is why I'm putting it out for public consumption: make just one meal for dinner and eat it, ideally, as a family. The kids' menu is variations of the same things--chicken nuggets, cheese pizza, corn and peas, carrots, apples, pears...the basic kid staples--and it's time to expand their repertoire (and, consequently, expand my husband's and mine, since I'm usually too wiped to make our dinner after I make theirs. I think we single-handedly keep Honey Nut Cheerios on the shelves, we eat it so often for dinner). So with 2008 comes the addition of chicken (in a non-nugget form) tacos, hamburgers, rice and beans and other kid-friendly but still adult-appropriate dinners. Amelia has probably already warmed up her gag reflexes, but I'm armed to take her on: I just bought Jessica Seinfeld's controversial Deceptively Delicious. If Amelia and Ben can stomach homemade mac and cheese--yes, they won't even eat that!--they'll be rewarded with brownies, laced with spinach, for dessert.
What are your resolutions, running or otherwise?
Dimity
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
A White, All-Is-Right Christmas in Oregon
Now that the wrapping paper is in the recycling bin and the cookie crumbs have been swept up, I wanted to let you know I had a great holiday. Without even trying, I rallied to the occasion. I found myself sincerely and deeply enjoying a lazy morning with Jack and the kids, them playing with—and fighting over--new toys and books. I started thinking maybe I should let them start out every day with a little pack of mini M&Ms!
Part of my holiday boost was due to a memorable track workout. I headed out at 11:30 a.m., telling Jack I wanted to “beat the rain.” Silly me: Three blocks from our house, it started to snow on me! Big, wet flakes that flew fast and furious as I circled the track. By the 3rd 1000-meter repeat, I was barely to lift my head or see the end of the lane for all the wind and snow. I adored it—and crushed the time-goals I set for myself! I pranced home, chilled, wet, but giddy.
Part of my holiday boost was due to a memorable track workout. I headed out at 11:30 a.m., telling Jack I wanted to “beat the rain.” Silly me: Three blocks from our house, it started to snow on me! Big, wet flakes that flew fast and furious as I circled the track. By the 3rd 1000-meter repeat, I was barely to lift my head or see the end of the lane for all the wind and snow. I adored it—and crushed the time-goals I set for myself! I pranced home, chilled, wet, but giddy.
-Sarah
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sarah the Scrooge
Never one for holidays (I believe every day can be special in its own way), I have become even more of a Grinch this season. I bought only a few presents for the kids, figuring they’re getting plenty of gifties from relatives. Jack and Phoebe decorated the tree without me, and when I noticed that they had only put on half our ornaments, I decided that was fine by me. I just tried to talk Jack into doing all the gift-wrapping. No wreath, no votive candles, no homemade gingerbread men—all Christmas touches I’ve done in years past.
But yesterday took the [fruit]cake: Jack and the kids went to see Santa while I did a 16-mile run. I had resisted Jack’s earlier attempts to get us all to visit Santa, shuddering at the thought of the crowds and trying to keep our 2-year-old twins content while waiting in the long line. Plus, family finances are so tight, I reasoned it would save us $25 on the requisite kids-on-Santa’s-lap photo. Almost-six-year-old Phoebe, shy like I was as a child, has never been a fan of the Santa visit, and I reasoned John and Daphne wouldn’t know what they were missing.
Jack sprung the idea on me at the last minute—he was headed off to Mass, and I was hanging out with the kids. Afterward, the family was going to drop me at the far end of 11-mile Leif Erikson Drive, and I would run home from there (the dirt fireroad comes out about 5 miles across the river from our house). Jack only asked me to get the kids dressed nicely and charge the camera battery. He didn’t suggest I scrap my run to join them—and neither did I. So we carried out our plan. As I ran through the rain and fog, dodging muddy puddles (little John’s parting words to me had been, “Don’t step in puddles, Momma!”), I debated where I’d rather be: Out in the only-for-the-hardy (or insane!) elements, pounding out 16 miles, or in a crowded, hot department store, waiting to see Santa. Maybe I’ll regret my decision when my kids are obsessed with The Hills instead of Happy Feet, or they want navel rings instead of belly kisses, but yesterday I chose my path and I was glad I was on it. (And as you can see from photo: It looks like kiddies didn't miss me too much!)
Now here’s to healthy and happy miles to all in 2008!
-Sarah
But yesterday took the [fruit]cake: Jack and the kids went to see Santa while I did a 16-mile run. I had resisted Jack’s earlier attempts to get us all to visit Santa, shuddering at the thought of the crowds and trying to keep our 2-year-old twins content while waiting in the long line. Plus, family finances are so tight, I reasoned it would save us $25 on the requisite kids-on-Santa’s-lap photo. Almost-six-year-old Phoebe, shy like I was as a child, has never been a fan of the Santa visit, and I reasoned John and Daphne wouldn’t know what they were missing.
Jack sprung the idea on me at the last minute—he was headed off to Mass, and I was hanging out with the kids. Afterward, the family was going to drop me at the far end of 11-mile Leif Erikson Drive, and I would run home from there (the dirt fireroad comes out about 5 miles across the river from our house). Jack only asked me to get the kids dressed nicely and charge the camera battery. He didn’t suggest I scrap my run to join them—and neither did I. So we carried out our plan. As I ran through the rain and fog, dodging muddy puddles (little John’s parting words to me had been, “Don’t step in puddles, Momma!”), I debated where I’d rather be: Out in the only-for-the-hardy (or insane!) elements, pounding out 16 miles, or in a crowded, hot department store, waiting to see Santa. Maybe I’ll regret my decision when my kids are obsessed with The Hills instead of Happy Feet, or they want navel rings instead of belly kisses, but yesterday I chose my path and I was glad I was on it. (And as you can see from photo: It looks like kiddies didn't miss me too much!)
Now here’s to healthy and happy miles to all in 2008!
-Sarah
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