My First Half Marathon

Left: Hawk Island boardwalk, just before the 9-mile mark. Photo credit: Dane Robison. Below: Finish line.

I did it. I ran the Capital City River Run half marathon this morning and finished it. It took a while — two hours, 18 minutes, and 29 seconds, to be exact — but I finished, and that's what counts. While at the same time exhausting and exhilarating, it was a triumphant moment — a personal victory toward which I'd worked all year. My friend Kate and I committed to running this race in January. I'd wanted to run it last year, but wasn't adequately prepared when race day rolled around. The closest I got to it was watching last year's runners cross the finish line and thinking, "Damn, that could have been me."

"So run it next year," my husband said encouragingly, and I thought, "Yeah, why not?"

But to go into the CCRR as experienced half-marathoners, Kate and I agreed to tackle the MORE race in New York City in April. I was humored by the fact that racers had to be at least 40 years old, or they had to run with a 40-year-old. But in the end, none of it mattered because Kate's mother's best friend turned 60 that day, which was cause for an obligatory celebration on Kate's part, and that put a kibosh on our plan.

Undaunted, I remained committed to my training, demonstrating discipline, stamina, and an uncompromising stick-to-it determination that drove everyone in my household crazy.

"Ready for dinner?" someone would ask. "Nope, I really have to get a run in."

"Wanna see a movie?" another would query. "I'd love to, but I'm due for a long run."

"What do you wanna do this weekend?" came another question. "Run."

You get the point.

I also heard the pride in their voices when they'd tell friends, "She's training for a half marathon," or "She just ran 12 miles today." They'd say it in that feigned, "Oh my God, I know my mom is so weird" tone, but I could tell they were bragging. No, really!

With few exceptions, I ran rain or shine, night and day, and I cut myself absolutely no slack. I'd go out for a pre-run drive to measure distances and plot out routes throughout my neighborhood. When three miles no longer cut it, the world I'd experience on foot grew a little larger. I noticed things for the first time — long forgotten pleasures of the outdoors, like the warmth and sometimes even the brutal heat of the sun; the grace of that one perfect breeze that gave me enough energy to pull off a strong finish; birds flitting about and squabbling in the treetops overhead; my growing familiarity with every part of a particularly challenging hill; the compassion of those with whom I'd shared mile after mile of asphalt, demonstrated everyday by a friendly wave and smile, or by motorists who'd give me a wide berth as they drove by.

It's been a long year, that's for sure, yet I was surprised at how quickly the race came and went. Long, grueling hours in training, thousands of miles under foot, the many pairs of Brooks running shoes I'd replaced — all of it came down to two hours, 18 minutes and 29 seconds. No, nothing earth-shattering or particularly noteworthy, and yet so very special.

Next on my agenda: Niketown's "Run Like a Girl" half marathon in Chicago, Ill., on Sunday, Oct. 19.

Wanna run a half? Check out the Team Playmakers half-marathon training schedule for intermediate runners (http://playmakers.com/teamplaymakers/ — you'll also find training schedules for runners of all levels and for all types of races).

Did you run the 2008 Capital City River Run? Find yourself at TimeFramePhoto.

Get Ready

Photo: After 10 at Lake Lansing. Photo Credit: Dane Robison


So Sunday, September 28, 2008, is my husband's 28th birthday. He'll turn 41. That's tomorrow.

I also run my first-ever half marathon tomorrow morning. I'm running the Capital City River Run in Lansing, Mich., and my husband — even before I decided to run it — volunteered to be the race's official photographer. So he and a small crew of shooters are going out to celebrate his birthday by snapping away at a bunch of half-marathoners. Strange.

But then again, he thinks I'm kind of strange, the way I've been so obsessed with sticking to my training.

"You're a freak," he'd joke when I'd log in my miles or tell him I had a 12-mile run to do.

I'm nervous, I won't lie. I've been thinking about running this baby for two years now. I've been seriously training for it since January. Last week when I ran, I hit the wall. Last week I had a tough time kicking three miles — three! I also started to notice weird pinches here and there. My left ankle has been giving me a lot of trouble today.

Other runners are in the same boat. Hips, ankles, knees — you name it. It's been a long running season, and the body can only take so much. But I've GOT to do this thing. And the Run Like a Girl in October.

My plan: Take it slow and easy, try to keep a steady pace. I'll listen to my body, but I'll also talk to myself.

"You can do it, Lolo. Come on, girl, you can do this."

The fact is, it's not that I think I can. I know I can.

Come Home, Son

Photo: Chris and Sophia share a beach towel, Summer 2008, Grand Haven, Mich.
Photo Credit: Dane Robison.

Chris called me today. He was upset, I could tell. His girlfriend of more than one year had broken up with him, though they remain friends. Distraught and broken-hearted, he said he just didn't know what to do, but he couldn't stay there in Boston anymore.

"I have no friends. I know nobody here," he said, his voice filled with pain and sadness.

Why'd he decide to go to Boston in the first place? He had to see about a girl, he said. He loves her, and he knew he had to go, if for no other reason than that he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he let her go without giving it his all. I couldn't blame him, and no one — no one — could have talked him out of it.

His best friend of 17 years had tried, but Chris wouldn't hear it. In his heart, he knew Stephan meant well. He also knew that his friendship with this childhood friend — the one young man who was perhaps as close to being a brother to him as anyone could possibly be — would survive any perceived lapse in judgment. Chris was ready to give away his heart, and Stephan could see, as clear as day, that Chris's heart was about to be shattered, battered, sliced, diced, skewered, beaten and well ... broken.

"He left?" Estephan asked me the day after Chris boarded the bus to Massachusetts. He couldn't have been surprised. Hurt? Maybe. "What an idiot," he said, almost inaudibly.

Me? I didn't try to talk Chris out of it. Though I knew this relationship didn't stand a chance in hell, I wasn't about to stand in the way of his pursuit of happiness and true love. After all, haven't we all been down that road before, blinded by love and foolishly consumed by the intoxicating power it yielded over us? Hadn't I done the very same thing when I married his father? When his father divorced me? When I married his step-father? Every time I'd ever done anything in the name of love, whether for my children, my family, friends or my husband, hadn't it always subconsciously been based on an unconditional love and unequivocal trust? Hadn't I also, on numerous occasions, been on the reciprocating end of their displays of affection?

I remember when he was 5, Chris was watching the Home Shopping Network really early one morning. I was still in bed, feeling very much under the weather. He crept into my bedroom and sweetly asked me if I had a credit card he could borrow.

"What do you need a credit card for, hon?" I asked. It was still dark as night out.

"It's a surprise," he said. "The TV lady's waiting on the phone for me, Mom. It's a surprise, so I can't tell you."

It was a ring. He wanted to buy me a pink sapphire ring, and his innocent desire to express his love for his mother touched me so much more deeply than any gift he could ever have bought me.

We didn't get that ring; couldn't afford it, but I'll never forget him wanting to. Nor the time he sent me a carefully drawn card about the greatness of acts of God, like a mighty tornado. He compared them all to the greatness of me — his mom.

To have been loved by my son is to be loved with a ferocious and deep passion. But falling in love is dangerous for anyone who'd so freely and willingly give so much of himself. Still, is there any other way to love — really, truly love?

I just hope his pain doesn't bury him.

When his father and I divorced, it hurt him. Badly. He changed. His heart got hard. He hated me. He said he couldn't wait to grow up and move out and be on his own. "You ruined my life," he told me over and over again. "When I move out, I'm going to move so far away, and I'm never coming home again." His anger was rooted in pain. I knew that.

Still, when he decided to move to Boston, I thought, "It's so far away."

Sophia? She's a nice kid. Cute as a button, confident. I liked her a lot. I wanted to like her; to love her. But she's just a kid, 20 years old. I don't mean to make any judgments based of her youth. Love works forever for a lot of young lovers. But something about this relationship reminded me of, well, oil and water.

It's hard to watch any of your kids' hearts get broken, but it's all part of growing up. I know his heart will heal in time, and I hope he'll one day take the chance to fall in love again and again. Somewhere along the way, I also hope he discovers all the things that I already know make him so wonderfully unique and worthy of being loved.

"Come home, son," I wrote to him in response to a message he sent me.

It's bittersweet, I know, but I'm glad he's coming home.

2008 Autumn Classic 8k

Left: Me, approaching the finish line.
Photo Credit: Dane Robison

The 2008 Autumn Classic is an 8-kilometer (4.98-mile) run around and through Lake Lansing in Haslett, Mich. It also happened to be my first-ever 8k race. And while I've previously kicked asphalt over the very same course (though over much greater distances) each race has its own unique personality based, in not-so-equal parts, on fellow racers, event logistics and weather conditions. Oh, and let's not underestimate the power of a good iTunes playlist (purists may disagree with me on this point, but I'm mostly in it for the sheer pleasure of running, and music just happens to enhance my experience).

Finally, post-race refreshments can either make or break an event.
In order to recap this race — for my personal benefit — allow me to rate it on a scale of 1 to 5 hearts — five hearts being excellent (my apologies in advance for going with hearts; I can't figure out how to make stars):

1) Fellow racers: 
By nature, the uber-aggressive and obnoxious runners tend to be out at the front of the herd, and because I pretty much run in slow-mo, no matter which races I sign up for, I am generally always surrounded by mild-mannered, respectful runners and walkers. It's the folks who are much slower moving but don't run on the right-hand side of the road, as well as the stroller-pushing parents who weave in and out of the pack, that I find particularly annoying and dangerous. Most every race has them, and this was no exception. In retrospect, I may have been considered the speedy nuisance as I vividly recall an attempt to dart through a narrow gap between a slow-moving female just ahead of me on my left and two walking Chatty Cathys on my right. "What to do?" I thought as it appeared my only hope of avoiding a collision was to hurdle over them. Then my body impulsively lurched forward, and through that beckoning gap I did swiftly dash — after which, I made sure I issued a breathless (albeit polite), "'Scuse me." And if anyone was none the less offended and so admitted, I was thankfully under headphones listening to some jammin' tunes, and so I missed the bitching-out.


2) Event logistics: 
I was a bit disappointed in that the race wasn't better organized. For example, there was no course map provided prior to or during the race. I knew the perimeter around Lake Lansing is only four miles, so I wasn't sure how the additional point-nine-eighths of a mile would be tacked on. The ambiguity was a little disconcerting, and even once we'd arrived at the race site (and proceeded to drive in slow-moving traffic for quite some time before we were finally able to park), race volunteers had no idea where the start/finish was, the direction racers would initially travel out of the shoot, whether we'd be running on trails, concrete or blacktop, yadda-yadda. We ended up running on all three surfaces, predominantly on blacktop. The registration Web site described the course as flat, scenic and fast, which it was, and I wouldn't mind running it again under less congested conditions. I very much appreciated the single loop around the lake. While it makes coverage of the event a bit tough for photographers (my photographer husband complained about this), double or triple loops around the same landscape — no matter how beautiful — can evoke annoying "Been there, done that" complaints from race participants. Still, it helps to keep all your publics in mind when planning a race, even shutterbugs. A pre-race warm-up would have been a nice little "extra." As it was, I felt rushed due to the long wait to find a parking spot, and another long wait in the potty line. On the course, watering stations were adequately spaced at about every mile and a half or so. An impressively plentiful supply of cheering teenage volunteers guided everyone around the course. Every mile around the almost-five-mile course was accurately marked, coupled with large digital clocks that let racers know how they were performing. Overall, a fairly decent event. A little more planning and communication, however, would likely have resulted in a higher rating.

3) Weather gods: 
Of course, weather cannot fairly reflect the quality of a race. In fact, we runners train in preparation for all types of conditions — inclement or otherwise. In my subjective and biased opinion, the weather was pretty nearly perfect for an 8k. Driving in, it was mildly foggy, even a bit misty. Temperatures maintained at a relatively cool 62 degrees, so organizers drew kudos for issuing long-sleeved T-shirts in participants' race packets. By the time the starting gun sounded, most of the fog had burned off, but the sun remained behind clouds for the duration of the event. Couldn't have asked for better weather, not that mortal men or race organizers had any say in the matter.

4) Post-race refreshments: 
Playmakers did an exceptional job with respect to refreshments. I would know: I gladly "partook" of most of it. I wholeheartedly welcomed the water bottle that was handed to me as I crossed the finish line.
After chugging on that for a bit then, having finished said bottled water to rinse off my well-earned "glow," I made a beeline for some Go-gurt, which I sucked down as if I actually knew what the hell I was doing, and grabbed a banana, too. I ended up giving the banana to my husband, then returned to the food table for an apple (for me) and a cup of hot vege soup (for him). If someone had offered to return to fetch me a Great Harvest bread roll and a cup of apple cider, I wouldn't have declined. Unfortunately, such offer was not extended, and I was too elated by the fact that I'd just finished an 8k race to give it much thought.

5) Final comments
My iTunes playlist: 
Still a work in progress, and I do recognize that my playlist is not within the race organizers' control. I also realize that not everyone will appreciate my playlist selection, but it only has to work for me.

I'm trying to craft one that inspires me to haul ass, but is interspersed with songs that force me to slow down at key points, too, so as to avoid premature burnout or injury. In my continuing quest to update my list to perfection, I'm finding that I am just as excited to hear each carefully selected tune as I am about the thrill of the run itself. I often make mental notes so I can rearrange and change my selections to keep it fresh. Here's a run-down of my current playlist.

"Eye in the Sky" — Alan Parsons Project
"As I Am" — Alicia Keys
"Brick House" — Commodores
"La Tortura" — Shakira and Alejandro Sanz
"Beautiful Liar" — Beyonce and Shakira
"Eyes Like Yours" — Shakira
"Hips Don't Lie" — Shakira
"Get Busy" — Sean Paul
"Wreckless Love" — Alicia Keys
"Shut Up and Drive" — Rihanna
"Temperature" — Sean Paul
"Fighter" — Christina Aguilera
"Are You Gonna Go My Way?" — Lenny Kravitz
"Work It" — Missy Elliott*
"Insane in the Membrane" — Cypress Hill*
"Break It Off" — Rihanna and Sean Paul
"Miss Independent" — Kelly Clarkston
"Dirrty" — Christina Aguilera*
"American Woman" — Lenny Kravitz
"Church" — T-Pain*
"Get Your Freak On" — Missy Elliott*

*Parental advisory warning: Explicit profanity and suggestive lyrics (clearly, I'm going for the beat).

My playlist actually contains enough tunes to get me through a couple of hours of running, in order to accommodate a half marathon, but the list above is what I listened to for today's 8k.

What's on your playlist?

Finally, I was disappointed that my BFF Kate Koltvedt didn't get to join me for this race, but it was great to warm up with an old friend, Stephanie Angel, managing news editor at the Lansing State Journal. I usually enjoy a post-race photo with Kate, but Steph volunteered to stand in.
I look forward to seeing Stephanie next weekend (September 28) at the Capital City River Run half marathon as well.

Plus, Kate promised she'd run it with me, and I'm holding her to it.

Hännah Has Tonsillitis

Photo: It's alive!!! Tonsillitis ala Hännah

My 21-year-old baby girl has tonsils that are so swollen they look like big balls on her throat.

"Tonsillitis," the doctor announced.

Hmm.

It seems to be a recurring condition for her. What's up with that? She never so much as had a sore throat throughout her childhood. Go figure.

Well, I don't really have anything to say about this condition, mostly because I don't know much about it. Dane took a close-up of Hännah's growth after her tonsils swelled.

What do you think?

I Run Like a Girl

Photo: The Nike+ iPod Sports Kit

Nike seems to have taken up a solid corner in the world of runners. Check out the Nike+ iPod Sports Kit — complete with an accelerometer and sensor to help runners track their distance, pace, calories, last workout, best workout — you name it. The sensor communicates with either the Nike+ Sportband or a receiver that is plugged into an iPod nano.

For just under $29 you can purchase one of these bad boys, sync it to either or both www.nikeplus.com or www.runnersplus.com and participate with the whole friggin' world in all sorts of fun running challenges: Who can run the most miles in 30 days? Which 40-year-old chick can run 500 miles first by December 31?

It's really helped me stay focused and motivated to run and prepare for my upcoming half marathons on September 28 (Capital City River Run in Lansing, Mich.) October 19 (Niketown's Run Like a Girl in Chicago, Ill.).

No matter what kind of running you're into, you'll love this little device. Makes "just doing it" a whole lot of fun.