On the 1st day of Christmas the universe gave to me a trail race through snow and trees

Photo stolen borrowed from Brian's FB post

Saturday I ran 15 perfectly snowy, wintry miles at the 0 degree WTF race. Normally, races aren't my favorite - I get too anxious - but I can honestly say it was the most fun you can have for 3 hours in the snow and single-digit temps. Three 5-mile loops. Three times up a hill so awesomely steep there was a rope to help pull yourself up. I had the privilege of  running with two fabulous ladies, Liz and Danielle, and one fabulous Steve, who graciously offered us chocolate at the top of the first Hell On Roots hill (gotta love a man with candy in his pockets, am I right?)

For all my catastrophizing, the race wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared. I didn't get lost, I didn't fall, I didn't feel like I was dying. I had some calf cramping in the last mile, but it was the farthest I've ever run on trails, so good times. And at the finish line, every runner got a high five from the race director.

There's always that moment...okay, moments where I question why the hell I thought this running thing was a good idea, but then I get out there and I'm like oh yeah, this is why. The people, the views, the feeling of going farther than you have before. There are some places you can only get to on two feet.

Lyric of the moment: "You might run on for a long time. Run on, ducking and dodging. Run on, children, for a long time..."

Slashing through the snow

Last night I was sitting in my car, stopped at the fifth consecutive traffic light, becoming very, very irritable. Exclamations and expletives may have ensued. It had been an unusually frustrating day and I was hoping a group run at Seneca Park would alleviate the funk. But I had left work a little late, then stopped home to let Mozzie out, and with the rush-hour traffic I knew I wouldn't make it on time. I was annoyed. At myself. For being annoyed. Instead of being all free of expectations and Zen and shit. So I turned around, drove home and went for a run around my 'hood. By this time the weather had taken a turn towards Snow Globe. So I was dashing (Well, slowly dashing. Slashing?*) through the snow, my eyelashes heavy with snowflakes, taking in all the holiday lights on Park Ave. And suddenly it began to feel a lot like Christmas. Not consumer Christmas or religious Christmas, but Christmas as I imagine it was intended to be: a bright spot of hope in a long, dark winter, an infusion of cheer and merriment to lift the spirits.

The seemingly endless darkness and cold of winter wears on me. If I could find a bear family to adopt me, I'd be hibernating right now. Though I have to admit, winter can be quite lovely. Not when the wind is biting your face or when you try to stop your car and it just keeps on sliding. But the festive gatherings, warm beverages and the sparkle of snow in the moonlight - those are the parts of winter I can embrace wholeheartedly.

It's so tempting to stay inside in the coziness and warmth. But if you brave the temporary discomfort and venture out, you can see some pretty awesome sights. I have to keep reminding myself, just go for it, you can always get warm again. Although, if I had a fireplace all bets would be off. I'd curl up beside it and not come out until Spring.

Lyric of the moment: "Do you realize, that you have the most beautiful face? Do you realize, we're floating in space? Do you realize, that happiness makes you cry? Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die? And instead of saying all of your goodbyes, let them know you realize that life goes fast, it's hard to make the good things last. You realize the sun doesn't go down, it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round..."

*Having a bad day? Just go slashing through the snow. And now I'm picturing a ninja running through the snow, ninja-ing everything. Oh my god the awesomeness!

Robot socks: a true story

Socks are not my favorite. I'd prefer not to wear them. But I also prefer to avoid cold feet, so I tolerate them when necessary. Sometimes I have difficulty finding socks that are acceptably awesome. Other times, this happens:

Saturday morning, I woke up early, went through the typical waffling about whether or not I'd attend the group trail run, (So many miles and hills and speedy people. So much potential to get lost or broken or end up in super unflattering photos), ran 13-and-change miles on the 0SPF course with some lovely people who are much faster than I am, took the hottest, longest, most excellent shower afterwards, came out of the bathroom to discover that Mozzie had found Mike's belt on the ground and thought it to be a delicious cow-flavored chew toy, went to Target to buy Mike a new belt, and there they were, in the man-cessories section of Target: the most awesome socks I have ever seen. Blue! With Robots on them!

(insert explosions of awesomeness here!)

So now I'm rocking some robot socks. Life works in mysterious ways.

Lyric of the moment: "I just wanna see you, I wanna see you be brave..." (Last week I was excited, this week I'm back to freaking out. Why exactly did I think a winter trail race would be a good idea? If you don't hear from me on Saturday, I am lost in the woods of Powdermill Park. Please send hot chocolate.)

Infinity of thanks

...to Mike and our families for making it possible for me to host Thanksgiving dinner at my house without having to cook anything. Mike made the turkey, tofurky and some sides, our families brought the rest and I did the dishes. Any gathering where people bring pie to your house is my kind of party! And it's probably best for all involved that I did not have to make anything. I shudder to think of what a Thanksgiving dinner prepared by me would look like. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches for all! Actually, that is sounding quite delicious. I'd even throw some Nutella in there, because it's a special occasion and all.

...to my parts for taking me on my first trail run in the snow on Thanksgiving morning, to the gym on Friday (where I actually did strength training. For the second time in one week. Someday I might actually have muscles. And pigs will fly!), on a 10 mile road run with RFP on Saturday and a 12 mile trail run on Sunday with TrailsRoc. I'm a little tired today but otherwise none the worse for wear. I almost skipped the Sunday run because it was a preview for 0 Degree WTF and I was afraid if I saw the course before the race I'd totally psych myself out. But it ended up being my favorite run of the weekend. I think I had built it up so much in my head to be this big, intimidating race looming in a future near me. And the course is definitely challenging (for me at least), but what I wasn't expecting was how fun it would be. I was able to do 2 loops of the course plus a little extra on legs tired from my longish run the day before and I felt ok afterwards. I'm going to be so slow and more than a little exhausted, but I might be able to run all 3 loops on race day. Hopefully. I'm actually starting to get a little excited, which is super weird because normally races make me incredibly anxious. But I'm not doing it for speed or for glory, of which I possess very little. I'm doing it because it will be the farthest I've ever run on trails and because I'm afraid I can't do it. Sometimes the intimidating things are the most worth doing.

...to TrailsRoc for organizing and leading the best group runs and races. It takes a lot of work to pull off inexpensive, sustainable, crazy fun events and host multiple group runs a week. Often times the leaders sacrifice their own training efforts to stay back and make sure no one gets lost (not that I'd expect anyone to wait for me. If I couldn't hang with the group, I'd find my own way. Getting lost is part of the fun). Their enthusiasm, talent and patience is inspiring. I might be silently cursing all of you on race day, but it will be in a totally loving and props-giving way.

Here's to hoping that this is true (and not just something I made up): Bite off more than you can chew and awesomeness will ensue.

Lyric of the moment: "Everything that kills me makes me feel alive..."

Last night I had the strangest dream...

Two Saturdays ago I was running trail hills when I twisted my ankle and fell on my face. (All part of my campaign to be crowned the least graceful trail runner of all time). Seriously though, it was a particularly inopportune face-plant since I had just registered for the 15 mile WTF trail race in December. To show The Doubts that no one is the boss of me. My ankle was swollen, my knee was black and blue and I was pissed (and also becoming increasingly worried that there was no way I could run 15 miles on what I had heard was a beast of a course). But I did the only things I could do. I went home, iced the crap out of my ankle and knee, ate some consolation cookies and got fired up to run some more miles. Then last Saturday, I ran 12 miles at the group run in Black Creek Park with (thankfully) no falls and barely a stumble.

And that's life I suppose. Sometimes you ace it, sometimes you fall on your face. You just have to pick yourself up, appreciate the fact that in addition to pasty-white and sunburn-red, your skin is now available in bruise-blue, and keep on being awesome.

Early this morning, I ran the gravel hill at Cobb's Hill five times. Which I think is the most times I've ever run it. Or at least the most times I've run it without feeling tired. Maybe because I kept crossing paths with a trio of runners doing the road hills and we exchanged "Good mornings" and "Gotta love hill workouts" (The first time I typed that it came out as kill workouts. Ha! Freudian slip) and "Enjoy the rest of your day" greetings. Or because in the pre-dawn dark it almost felt like I was still dreaming. And I had a really weird dream last night where I was running a race but for some reason it was inside. I was running down hallways, then in one part I had to run around a bunch of cafeteria tables 4 times and I was like what? who designed this course? Finally, I got to run outside, but suddenly I felt so uncomfortable and I realized that I was wearing jeans. Then I saw my parents and told them I needed to change into my shorts. They gave me the shorts and I kept running. But then I woke up before the finish. I was a little bummed out. I mean, if my brain is going to dream up some weird shit for me to run around, it should at least let me get to the finish line.

Lyric of the moment: "Last night I had the strangest dream. I sailed away to China, in a little row boat to find ya, and you said you had to get your laundry cleaned. Didn't want no one to hold you. What does that mean? And you said...ain't nothin' gonna break my break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down, oh no, I've got to keep on moving...."

Going the awesome way

For the past 2 weeks I've felt so slow. It may be because I've had this stupid cold for what feels like forever. I'm starting to get very cranky pants about the whole thing. Germs, I've been a most gracious host, supplying you with all the Tootsie Rolls anyone could ask for, but you have far outstayed your welcome.

Last Saturday I wasn't feeling that great but I woke up and decided to run for 100 minutes. Because I wanted to and I could. And when those two things overlap, it's good times indeed. I knew that there was some way to run through Seneca Park to Charlotte Beach and I wanted to try it out. So I ran a loop from Seneca Park to Charlotte and back. Following the Genesee River Trail from Turning Point Park up to Lake Ave, there is a seemingly interminable uphill that ends up by the cemetery. As I was running up it, a woman headed down told me "You're going the hard way." I laughed and thought, No, I'm going the awesome way.

When I got to the top, I felt pretty awesome, in that look what I can do kind of way. But I imagine I did not look very awesome at all. I probably looked like I belonged in that cemetery. I started thinking about how all the beauty and fitness magazines always depict these perfectly posed, unblemished people. They're not sweaty or muddy. They don't have any bruises or laugh lines or scars. But those are all the marks of a life well lived, a life of taking risks and exploring and getting up to so many adventures. There's beauty in that too.

Lyric of the moment: "But wherever I have gone, I was sure to find myself there. You can run all your life but not go anywhere..."

Take these broken things and make them awesome

If you came home from work one day to find that your puppy had invented a new game where he

Doggy Jekyll & Mr. Hyde

pulls all the coats off their hooks and chews the buttons off your winter coat, you might think it was a bad thing. But if you were like me, and you had a super awesome mom with a box of cool, old miscellaneous buttons, your coat would now have new buttons, including a top button shaped like an elephant! And you would see that sometimes when things get broken they end up even better than before. Then you would take said coat to the dry cleaners, because normally you don't buy things that are dry-clean-only or you cheat and throw them in the washer on the hand-wash cycle, but you aren't taking any chances with your fancy new elephant button coat so you're doing it up adult-style at the dry cleaners. But then it smells all weird and chemically there so you decide this will be your one and only foray into the world of dry cleaning. Still, you will have learned that you always have a choice. You can mourn the loss of the broken things or you can make them into something far more awesome.

Lyric of the moment: "Why does time move so fast? Precious things never last. Figure out, don't forget. Only love, no regrets..." (Because it makes me think of the scene in We're the Millers where Jason Sudeikis' character says to the kid with the NO RAGRETS tattoo across his chest "You have no regrets? Like, not even a single letter?" I laugh so hard whenever I think of it.)

Prime of my life

I happen to be lucky enough to know a lot of incredibly talented, amazing, inspiring runners/athletes/superhumans. And I love it. The only downside is that sometimes I feel like a slacker for not running 50Ks or cranking out 6 minute miles or giving birth to triplets in the middle of a race and still getting a PR (Which I really hope is not a thing. I'm utterly terrified even thinking about it. Though it would make for some...um...interesting?....race photos).

It's hard for me to resist the peer pressure of other people's awesomeness. All the things they do and the races they run sound so exciting and fun. And I already want to go everywhere and do everything as it is. But I still have a lot of life left (hopefully). So I can afford to relax, take it one day at a time and be happy with whatever happens. I only get this one body (as far as I know). I have to take really good care of it so I can live long enough to go on all the adventures.

I'm falling into the impending-birthday funk again. Not because I'm getting older. I want to be one of those hilariously sassy and self-possessed old ladies when I grow up. But because birthdays always make me feel like I am the worst ever and have wasted another year doing absolutely nothing. I'll be the first to admit it's crazy and irrational. I had a lot of adventures in my 31st year.* I ran, I laughed, I loved, I met new people, I bought my house a new porch for its 113th birthday, I went to Egypt (by myself!) and Cape Cod, I adopted the biggest-headed, most adorably clumsy puppy, I water skied (for 10 seconds. In a bikini. And no one looked away in horror or turned to stone) and I set a personal record for most pumpkin bars eaten at one sitting (It's now up to 4. If there was a dessert version of Man Vs. Food, I would totally rock it. But then I'd have to run 50 miles to burn off all the sugar so I didn't become insufferably hyper). A lot of happy and funny and good things happened while I was being 31. And if my friend Pete is right about even numbered birthdays being better, then I have a lot to look forward to in year 32. So I need to get out of this funk and get on my way to becoming that hilariously sassy old lady.

Lyric of the moment: "But hold me fast, 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer..."

*If you were being punny, you could say that at 31 I'm in the prime of my life.

It was an experience

I've found that it helps not to think of things as either good or bad but to consider everything to be an experience. And that the more I can embrace those experiences, the more adventurous and full my life will be.

Recent experiences:

*Painting and staining the front porch. It took 2 coats of paint, 2 coats of stain and 4 days of work, but I'm happy with the way it came out. I'm also happy that I've almost run out of things to paint in my house. If I never have to hold another paintbrush, it'll be too soon. But I'm happiest that Mike was there to help me. I'd gotten used to doing everything myself, but it feels good to be part of a team. And to have someone to laugh with as the radio kept playing that terrible song about banging like gorillas.

*My boss likes us to get flu shots so I've had one every year for the past 9 years, but for some reason this year I had a bad reaction to it. I was all tired and achy and got all these red, itchy bumps all over my arms, legs, back and stomach. I think I would have rather taken my chances with the flu. But it was, as they say, an experience. Though one I hope to avoid repeating.

*Yesterday I made a yoga sandwich with running bread. I ran 6 miles on the road in the morning, did my Yoga For Runners DVD, then ran the TrailsRoc Ready, Set, Glow race at night (5ish miles of trails! In the dark! With glow sticks!) My only goals were not to hurt myself and not to get lost, and I failed on both accounts. But it was fun, despite the fact that I kept twisting my ankles. My left ankle was pretty swollen when I got home, but I iced, Ibuprofen-ed and Pain Terminator-ed it, and today it is a little tender still but otherwise ok. I'm far too heavy and uncoordinated to be a trail runner, but I'm trying not to let that stop me. And it did get me to use the weight room at the gym today for the first time in...forever (I'm usually too intimidated to venture in there because I have no muscles). So that's a silver lining.

Lyric of the moment: "Like a sprained ankle, boy I ain't nothing to play with..."

A good runner has no fixed pace and is not intent on finishing

One of my favorite quotes from the Tao Te Ching is “A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” I'm hoping to translate that to running, as in a good runner has no fixed pace and is not intent on finishing. I want to run for the pure enjoyment of it and not be defined by speed or distance. But I have a hard time relinquishing my love of results. I like working hard. I also like seeing that hard work pay off. I want to be better today than I was yesterday. At everything. Even if it is only infinitesimally better, I want to be continually improving. Which is unrealistic. And exhausting.

I don't want to lose that drive to find my limits and push past them. But I have a tendency to make myself crazy over my perceived, and often times invented, inadequacies. So I need to let go of all that junk.

I have a hard time with detachment because it can veer towards apathy. And I don't want to be apathetic. I want to be enthusiastic and excited and loving the crap out of everything. But to do so without expectation or attachment to any particular outcome.

Sometimes it seems a little impossible. I'm confusing myself even thinking about it. Though I think all my ankle problems last year may have helped in a way (Oh god I can't even believe I just said that. Dear Universe: this is in no way an invitation for any more injuries. I would however be delighted to accept more miles and more peanut M&Ms. Or pretzel M&Ms. I'm not picky.) This year I've been happy just to run without pain. Or with pain, but the kind that's only slightly uncomfortable, not the kind that's like you-need-to-stop-now-things-are-seriously-FUBAR-up-in-here.

I also think trail running is helping because I don't care that I'm slow, I just focus on staying upright. And trying to keep up with the group so I don't get lost in the woods.

I don't know if the answer is long slow distance or only doing races "for fun." Or maybe there is no answer, it's just something I will figure out along the run.

Lyric of the moment: "After all it was a great big world, with lots of places to run to..." Word.