Run for your supper! (Race Report)

Race: SOME (So Others May Eat) Trot for Hunger 5K, 11/24/11
Goal: Finish without turning my cold into pneumonia

Photo: katmeresin

Outcome: 25:22 and laryngitis
 
We had originally planned to do this race all together as a family event for Thanksgiving morning, and my parents, who were visiting from out of town, were even planning to cheer us on. But our plans were dashed by a nasty head cold I developed earlier in the week. I wasn't even sure I'd want to run, let alone with the stroller. But the hubs and I have a tradition of racing or doing a long run on Thanksgiving morning, and this year was no different.

I went to bed on Thanksgiving Eve, coughing and tired from hours of Thanksgiving meal prep, but not before I set out my running clothes. When we woke up, it was sunny but chilly, and we decided the little guy might have a better morning hanging out at home with his grandparents, in a warm house full of yummy Thanksgiving treats. We took advantage of the free childcare and headed out to the race, just the two of us — for the first time since having the little one.

It was fun to head out on the Metro in the cold and shiver our way through the prerace waiting before lining up at the start. And then, as always, we wished each other a good race and moved our separate directions in the pack, me toward the middle and him toward the way front. And then it was time to run!

It's always great to run a Thanksgiving race, if only to overhear the snippets of breathy conversations some people are having about recipes, favorite dishes and meal prep. It's sort of funny to hear someone gasping about their grandma's sweet potato pie while he tries to keep pace with a friend. 

The chilly air made it a little hard to breathe, so I was motivated to quickly sniffle my way through the sea of turkey hats to the finish line. It was nice to get glimpses of the sun when the course weaved out from behind the shadows of tall buildings. I planned for this to be a fun run, and I wasn't aiming for anything other than not turning my cold into pneumonia, so I was good with my finish time, though I could've done without the laryngitis that followed. (Oh, and, gunky cold and wheezing? Conditions report.)

After we finished and collected our swag, we hung out a little bit to chat briefly with one of the dudes who had set up for Occupy DC, in the tents right next to the race start and finish. I suddenly felt a little silly to be spending my Thanksgiving morning running a race. That I paid to run. With a cold. In the cold. Well, at least it was for a good cause, right?

Thinking of all this, I suddenly felt very lucky and extremely grateful that I could have this little luxury, along with all the other blessings in my life — a morning out with my husband and a dash through a fun race before heading home to our warm house filled with family and all the amazing aromas of Thanksgiving.

© 2011 GUF

Isn't that an old wives' tale?

Photo: atramos

Women in their last weeks of pregnancy often hear a lot of suggestions for how to nudge the baby toward making the grand appearance. Eat spicy food. Take long walks. Have sex. Get acupressure on a special spot in your foot. Play with your nipples. Drink castor oil. Take herbs. Some will tell you these are old wives' tales. Others swear by their effectiveness.

Well, Amber Miller found her own way, completing the Chicago marathon before grabbing a sandwich and heading to the hospital. She ran/walked her way to a six-hour, 25-minute marathon with her husband by her side (until he couldn't keep up), then delivered a healthy baby girl. And then there was an uproar. Some people were appalled to hear her news. Others were inspired. Doctors weighed in, and suddenly everyone seemed to be talking about whether this woman should have done what she did. I was, too.

As a fellow running mama, my thinking was, 'Why not?' According to reports, she is a second-time mama, a marathon veteran and a runner who was in excellent health before pregnancy. And Chicago was apparently her second marathon in this pregnancy, though I'm guessing there wasn't as much of a fuss about it then, when she was likely not showing as much. From all accounts, she seems like someone who decided to continue her nonpregnant level of activity through her pregnancy while taking caution when her body told her it was needed. And she even checked with her OB, who happened to be cool with it anyway. Doctors know that a healthy, active woman with an healthy pregnancy can continue doing the kind of exercise she was doing before becoming pregnant. With the right information and the ability to listen to her body, a pregnant woman can run a smart race, even at 39 weeks.

Yes, some people are reckless and extreme. Some of those people run marathons. But that doesn't mean that a person running a marathon is necessarily reckless and extreme. Even if she happens to be pregnant. After all, pregnancy isn't a disability. So why would a healthy marathoner pretend like it is?

You go, mama!

© 2011 GUF

Can I outrun the clock?

Photo: jayneandd

Completing at least one marathon is a personal goal, something on my life's to-do list. But ever since I registered for my first marathon, I've been having nagging thoughts about whether I should be spending precious babymaking time on what could be a considered a selfish physical pursuit. I mean, when it comes down to it, I am, in fact, paying someone else so I can train hard for months, leave my family to travel across the country and "celebrate" my 35th birthday by running 26.2 miles of amazingly beautiful, yet hilly, terrain in Big Sur. Awesome, right?

And yes, I did say 35. Dun-dun-DUN! Yes, the fearsome age at which a woman apparently needs to get high-tech to get pregnant, and if she succeeds, must wear the badge of "high-risk" during her pregnancy. Our beautiful boy is nearing his second birthday and talk about another kid has been swirling around now that life feels like it's settled into a manageable routine again. And funny enough, that talk started happening more often after I signed up for this race. Nothing like deadlines for motivation (and anxiety), I guess.

But should I really even be worrying? Well, according to the stats—maybe. Thumb through any authoritative text on fertility, and you'll see the numbers showing how fertility in women begins to decline for women in their late 20s and early 30s. You'll probably also read how women are born with a finite number of eggs and when they're gone or unusable, that's it. And that fertility isn't a matter of staying healthy, it's just a matter of time. OK, all true, but what about the growing numbers of women who are successfully having kids later, often past age 40? Social conventions have changed and medical technologies have improved, but biology hasn't, doctors say.

So, what's a 21st-century gal to do? After all, many women have lives outside of motherhood, and either by chance or choice, delay pregnancy. I find some comfort in a discussion I had with my famously kind and wise OB last year, who asked me when we were going to have another kid. When I asked him whether he was asking me that because it was "all downhill after next year," he laughed and said, "No, no no!" And then proceeded to tell me about his wife, who had their youngest after age 40. I also find some comfort in knowing that although passing time means passing fertility, every woman's body ages at a different rate, and that turning 35 doesn't flip a switch somewhere to power everything down.

Maybe we "aging" ladies just have to say, "What will be, will be, and I'll just have to live my life in the meantime." But that doesn't mean I won't be thinking about all of this when I'm doing long runs and track workouts this winter. Or that I won't have days when I think that training is selfish or meaningless in the grand scheme of things, especially in the realm of motherhood. Even elite running mamas like Paula Radcliffe and Kara Goucher talk about having those days.

Maybe I'll just look at marathon training as a way to get in the best shape I can before trying to grow another pea in the pod. And hope that the ticking of my stopwatch is louder than the secondhand on my biological clock.

© 2011 GUF

The Dean offers me a kick in the butt.

Nothing like some harsh truth from an ultramarathoner to remind me that staying in my comfort zone can be boring and stunting. From the Runner's World quote of the week:

"Most people never get there. They're afraid or unwilling to demand enough of themselves and take the easy road, the path of least resistance. But struggling and suffering, as I now saw it, were the essence of a life worth living. If you're not pushing yourself beyond the comfort zone, if you're not constantly demanding more from yourself—expanding and learning as you go—you're choosing a numb existence. You're denying yourself an extraordinary trip."

—Dean Karnazes

Running hundreds of miles nonstop probably brings forth all sorts of wisdom. Thanks, Dean.

© 2011 GUF

Can I be a marathon mama?

Beautiful, breezy and hilly Big Sur
Photo: You go, mama.

I've signed up for my first marathon. After months of casual thinking, mulling, considering, waffling and lots of encouraging words from friends and my husband, I finally did it. I was casually considering Big Sur in 2012, so when it sold out soon after it opened, I was disheartened. That was all it took to end all the doubting, flip-flopping and indecisiveness. I wanted what I suddenly couldn't have. I became even more steeled in my determination to do a marathon next spring.

When I found out they were selling just 200 more bibs with an extra fee given to their children's running charity, it was like a second chance with the added bonus of donating to a worthy cause. Special online registration opened this morning and I blazed my way through the forms, entered in my credit card info and that was that.

What did I just do? It's like I just signed a form to skydive or bungee jump, but not until eight months from now. The last time I felt this way was six years ago, when I signed up to do my first triathlon but didn't know how to swim. Somehow, I got through that just fine. But, still. Eee!

I haven't had to train for a multihour event since my half-Ironman three years ago, prebaby. I'm feeling like putting in the training time should be possible with the support of my family, but I don't quite know what marathon training will do to my body. It should be interesting to figure out what kind of marathon training plan will strike a balance with the rest of my life. I'm guessing I'll follow the FIRST method, with lots of room to flex the schedule as needed. Maybe it's time to re-read my own post about planning training around work, home and everything else. At least I'll have a few months to try to make the rest of my routine more efficient before I have to start throwing extra-long runs (and the accompanying recoveries) into the mix.

It should be an interesting winter! And like any good critter preparing for the colder months, I'll be stocking up on a lot of Hammer Gel, Recoverite, and arnica gel to get me through the short days and long runs.

© 2011 GUF

Forget about the wind resistance.

This is the second in a series of posts about running gear for various stages of mommyhood. I previously talked about basic gear for running. Today, I'll talk about what you need when running with a bump.

Sporting the baby bump holster on a trail run,
about two months before my due date.
Photo: You go, mama.

Running for two, at least in my experience, was pretty great. Slow, but lots of fun and often energizing. It controlled my queasiness in the first trimester and prevented swollen ankles in the last trimester. It kept me feeling strong and energized and probably kept my weight gain to a healthy level. And I'm pretty sure that continuing to run while pregnant built my endurance for labor and helped me speed through my postpartum recovery. But we'll leave the discussion on the possible benefits of pregnant running for another day.

Right now, let's talk about gear. As I learned, pregnancy is definitely not a time to skimp on getting the right gear. The need for comfort is at an all-time high. Regulating body temperature is important. Support is not a luxury. You can certainly invest in maternity running gear, a lot of which is extremely cute and comfy. But if you don't have a big budget or just don't want to buy specialized gear, it's also possible to stay comfortable in carefully chosen clothes from your own closet or favorite nonmaternity store. If you're looking to keep things simple here are the basics:

• Adjustable shorts/pants: Look at what you have and know that a lot of it might work for most of your pregnancy, since most athletic waistbands can stretch to sit comfortably below your bump. If you're shopping for new things, it's totally possible to skip the maternity section if you look for low rises, adjustable elastic or drawstrings, wide fold-over waistbands or soft and stretchy material. If you strike out in the running section, check out styles designed for yoga, which often have more flexible fits. As always, aim for fabrics that move with you and wick sweat to keep you cool. Thanks to pregnancy hormones, it's easy to overheat and sweat buckets just while sitting still. Look for anything that will help you stay cool and dry when you're on the move.
• Long-torso top: As fashion has shifted toward longer-length tops, it's become easier to find flattering nonmaternity tops that can provide coverage for a growing baby bump. Some close-cut men's athletic tops in the right fabric can work, too. Try something that you think might even be too long for you in the first trimester. You'll need the length later, I promise! If you go with a fitted style, remember that you may need more room underneath your top when and if you begin wearing belly support. More on that in a minute.
• Well-fitting shoes: During pregnancy, a hormone called relaxin makes your body's joints and ligaments more flexible in preparation for childbirth. The extra flexibility can also make you prone to pain and injury—even in your feet—particularly if you don't have the right support. The shoes you wear at 12 weeks may not be the same ones you can wear at 26 weeks. Constantly reassess the fit of your shoes and adjust your laces, change your sock thickness or get refitted as needed. I used an old pair of triathlon laces in my shoes to make it easier to adjust the fit. The quick laces also made it easier to put on my shoes without bending over in those last weeks!
• Belly support: For me, this included a stretchable belly band, an athletic bandage wrap and a maternity support belt—each used alone and together in varying combinations at different points of my pregnancy to prevent round ligament pain, uncomfy bouncing and bladder pressure. After one painful track run in my second trimester, I invested in a Gabrialla support belt and didn't have any issues after that.
• Fully adjustable sports bra: As a normally average-busted gal, I had been able to manage even the longest runs with a simple pullover compression sports bra. That changed with pregnancy, and I found it necessary to buy a completely adjustable sports bra that could grow with me—the kind with a hook-and-eye clasp closure at the back, adjustable straps and separated soft cups. An adjustable style by Moving Comfort worked for me, as did another similar style by Champion, though I can't remember the names of the particular styles. Even though I found mine at discount department stores, they were still a bit more expensive than the typical pullover compression bra, so I washed them often and rotated between just two.

Some other things I found to be necessities were an easy-to-carry water bottle and sun protection, like a brimmed hat and sunscreen (useful even in the winter!). A Nathan handheld bottle and natural mineral sunscreen worked the best for me. Staying hydrated is extremely important when you're pregnant, and if your running route doesn't have water fountains (mine didn't), always take water with you. It's also important to avoid overexposure to the sun, as pregnancy hormones make you more prone to sunburn.

With a baby on the way, sticking to a budget is often an important task. It's possible to keep up your running (or jogging, shuffling or waddling) without having to blow the nursery budget on specialized gear. As always, focusing on comfort and fit—wherever you find it—will allow you to keep logging and enjoying those miles. Even when you're running for two.

© 2011 GUF

4 legs + 3 wheels = (Race Report)

Race: Let Freedom Run 5K, 7/4/11
Goal: Run my first race with the stroller
Outcome: Second strollermama to finish (28:04) and a new interest in "racing" with the stroller

I ran a race with the stroller for the first time this weekend and I was surprised by how much fun it was! We had planned to do a local July 4th 5K, and originally planned to run all together, with my husband pushing the stroller. (It slows him down enough so I can attempt to keep up with him.) But as the race day got closer, I wondered if my husband wanted to do a running race on his own for a change. After fracturing his kneecap a few years ago, he shifted his focus to cycling and hadn't done a running race in a while. Except for a one-mile race we ran as a family last year, he'd mostly been at finish lines as a wonderfully supportive spectator. When I offered to push the stroller, he hesitated at first. But after a couple of fun speed workouts, he eventually agreed that maybe it was a good time to run on his own.

I got excited about the race in a whole different way. Because there would be no way for me to PR with the stroller (maybe someday, but not for a while), I looked forward to the race as a fun family day. I'm nerdy and competitive with myself and can't often run a race without a goal in mind. But now, I'd just be having fun with the kiddo in the stroller during a holiday race.

And it was pretty fun, picking up our numbers on race morning and pinning mine onto the front of the stroller. Giving my little guy a morning snack while he lounged in the stroller before the start. Saying good-bye and good luck to my husband before lining up toward the back of the pack. Chit-chatting with another strollermama whose daughter was also quietly munching away on a snack in her stroller.

But then the gun went off.

My innate reaction to get moving kicked in and I found myself steering past a lot of shuffling feet and coming close to bumping into some folks. I accidentally tapped the heel of a dad pushing a stroller and said, "Sorry! Sorry!" I began to wonder if I was being a jerk for running with a stroller. Then a woman jogging ahead of me saw me and turned sideways, saying, "Go ahead! I know how hard it is. I've tried it before. It's fun, but if you actually want to run, it's tricky!"

After the initial clumsiness of the crowded start, I got into a groove and found myself on the outside lane of the crowd of runners, beelining behind a couple of dads zooming through with double strollers. Once I saw them, I didn't feel like such a jerk for wanting to run fast with the kiddo in tow. I kept to the unofficial stroller lane and raced ahead. "I want to be that lady," I heard someone say. Not sure if she was talking about me, but I imagined she was and got motivated to go even faster. About halfway through, I spotted some other fast-moving strollermamas and my competitive nature snuck its way to my feet. I passed some, but found myself on the heels of one fast strollermama in Vibrams for the rest of the way.

As I picked it up in the last half-mile or so, my otherwise quiet passenger struck up a conversation with me, along with some race route commentary. "People." "Running." "Sunny." "Hot." And, when a particularly sweaty guy ran in front of us, "Shower." His babbling took my mind off the race and before I knew it, we were in sight of the finish line, a huge arch of balloons. "Balloons!" "Yes," I said. "That's where we're running—to the balloons!" He fixed his gaze ahead and I did, too.

After crossing the finish, I thanked him for being a good passenger and we gave each other a high five. We met up with Dada, who had run a good race, too. He told us we were the second strollermama team to cross the finish. Yay for us! Later, while my husband and I sipped cold water from the refreshment table, our little race buddy enjoyed a postrace chocolate chip cookie. After all, at his age, the best medal is probably the one you can eat.

© 2011 GUF

Do these shorts make me look fast?

One of the beauties of running is that it generally requires very little gear. At the very least, you need clothes, shoes and a place to run. Then, off you go. (And some folks do without the first two things.)

Of course, as with anything else, there are add-ons. Do you need a hat? Or sunglasses? A watch, mp3 player, GPS or heart-rate monitor? Walk into any running store or sporting goods shop and you may think, "Yes!" to all of the above.

And in the stunning array of running gear marketed toward women (especially moms!), it can be easy to lose your way and find yourself wondering if you really need those $200 running socks spun with anti-fatigue gold thread. I'm making that up, but it's not too far off from some of the stuff you might find out there. But not everyone can be so spendy when it comes to running gear, probably especially not if you're a running mama on a tight family budget.

I was reminded of all this when I was out gear shopping the other night with another mama who recently became a born-again runner after having her third child. She was doing her couch-to-5K training in old exercise clothes, though they weren't ideal. I could totally relate, having done the same sort of thing when I resumed running postbaby. (Can you say plugged ducts from ill-fitting sports bras? Ouch. That's a whole 'nother story.) Some of us moms are, if nothing else, extremely practical and maybe a little minimal about getting stuff for ourselves. But taking good care of a family means taking good care of yourself, and that includes regular exercise and the proper tools to do it!

My friend's gear and clothing search made me think about what a running mama truly needs and how it can get overwhelming to decide, particularly for new runners or born-again runners. I'll tackle the subject for each stage of mommyhood, starting here with the basics. Future posts will take a look at dressing and gearing up for running while pregnant, immediately postpartum and with the kids. 

At the very least, a running mama needs:

• Comfortable shorts/pants/capris: Find some that flex with you (form-fitting or not), wick sweat and have soft, flat seams that won't chafe you. Comfort is key. Waistband pockets are convenient for small items like a house key, ID, small phone or emergency money.
• Properly fitting sports bra: This is so essential! Nothing stops a run faster than painful bouncing. Measure yourself properly or go to a lingerie store to have it done. Some running stores may also offer sports bra fittings. Do a serious bounce test! In general, compression bras, which you pull over your head like a tank top, are great for small-to-average busts. Encapsulation bras, with cups and (usually) adjustable straps and closures, are best for larger chests.
• Well-fitting shoes: Unless you're going barefoot, go to your local running store to get fitted for proper running shoes. Or you can read up on how to get the right fit on your own. Ill-fitting or worn-out shoes can be a source of pain and even injury for some folks. Oh, and don't forget sweat-wicking socks.
• Comfortable tank/tee/long-sleeve shirt: Again, choose synthetic, breathable fabric and designs with soft, flat seams. If you're going for a tank with a built-in bra, do a vigorous bounce test. Many built-in bras don't support well without the help of another bra, and layering can be uncomfortable. Make sure any top you buy is long enough so it doesn't creep up and turn into a half-top while you're running.

There are many nice extras, but these are the basics. And it's possible to find decent gear on a small budget. Support your local running store when you can, but don't feel bad if you have to be extremely practical about cost and head to a discount department store, online warehouse or secondhand store for some things. If you're just starting out or simply trying to keep things practical, don't worry about brands or what other runners are wearing. Think about comfort and fit and what will help you get out the door to log (and enjoy!) those miles.

© 2011 GUF

Dang, it's hot. (Race Report)

Race: 13.1 Chicago, 6/4/11
Goal: Anything sub-2:00 to get back in the vicinity of my prebaby PR of 1:49
Outcome: 2:08, a few minutes slower than my first postbaby half (Argh.)

So ... like many other amateur runners and triathletes, I have to qualify that unsatisfying finish time with what I like to consider a "conditions report." These are all the things that a race day poses that don't usually come up during controlled training. Things the race course or race day simply throw at you, waiting for a response. All the things that make some runners and triathletes a little neurotic about always being prepared with a Plan B.

Record-setting choppy water for a triathlon swim? Conditions report. Debris on a race route and two flat tires during one triathlon? Conditions report. Thunderstorms? Conditions report. Unexpectedly getting your period during a race? Conditions report. Breaking your only ponytail holder halfway through a race? Conditions report. You get the idea.

For this 13.1, it was the heat and humidity. When I walked outside before 5 a.m., it felt like someone had left the door open on a giant neighborhood sauna. I thought, "Hmm. This should be interesting." When I met up with my girlfriends to get to the starting line, it was noticeably hot and humid. In various veiled ways, we said, "This ain't good." We were sweating just standing in line for the porta-potties. It was apparently already in the 80s by then. The race started under what they called a yellow flag heat advisory, meaning we were all supposed to go slower and drink more water. Always a comedic warning to give to a bunch of people about to start a race.

I'm stubborn. I knew the weather was nothing like my training weather. I knew it was already sunny and hot and humid and the gun hadn't gone off yet. But I also knew I had traveled to Chicago to meet up with friends to do this race. And I also knew that I had put in twelve weeks of good training and I didn't want to let it go to waste.

When my corral started, I tried to ignore the weather and just imagined the start was like any other race start. Go easy, shake out the jitters and get into a groove. And get into a groove. And get into a groove. Eh-hem: Get into a groove! But my body wasn't listening. When I found myself looking for the first mile marker, I knew I was in for a long race.

And yes, it was hot and humid. Much worse than any of my hottest training days and any of the previous few days I had spent in Chicago. And my legs felt like I was slogging through quicksand a lot of the time. According to a heat guide in a recent Runner's World article, it wasn't the best day to be running the race:

High heat (85+) + high humidity (over 60%)
THE EFFECTS
Raises core temp, reduces blood volume; humidity interferes with evaporation of sweat.
THE SOLUTION
"Stick to easy runs or use the treadmill," says Puleo.

Without trying, I did everything the experts say you're supposed to do in hot weather—besides going home to hang out in the AC. I sipped water at every aid station. I hung on to the cool towel I got at mile 7 like it was my security blanket. I doused it with cold water at every aid station and hung it over the back of my neck. And, though I tried as hard as I could not to, I ran slowly.

I also played a lot of games with myself. I imagined there was shade where there wasn't any. I pretended there was a breeze coming off the Lake. I focused on the backs of runners until I passed them. I kept thinking about how a longer race meant taking longer to get back to the finish, where my family was waiting to meet me—also in the heat.

I abandoned my time goal and focused on finishing without collapsing. But I refused to let myself walk. I ran, but my legs felt sloppy. I saw other runners weaving, staggering and nearly fainting along the race route. At some points, it seemed absurd to even be running "for fun" at that moment. Any outsider could have easily said we deserved whatever was coming our way and that we were idiots for actually paying someone so we could run in this mess. But who cares what they think, right?

When I had just about one mile left, I heard a man on a bullhorn calling out, "We are under a black flag. The clocks have been turned off. Stop running." No one crossing the finish from that point on would receive an official time. All I could think was, "F*@&, no!" A bunch of other tired runners around me were uttering similar things and none of us stopped running. There was no way we had come this far only to stop. Besides, all pride aside, I was pretty sure my legs would cramp on the spot if I stopped to walk.

So I kept jogging (which, by this point, felt like slow-motion shuffling), crossed the finish line and kept moving my legs long after. I wasn't too thrilled about how the race went, but I was so glad to see my family at the finish. My kiddo was snoozing in the stroller, wearing a T-shirt that read, "Go Mama!" (a cute surprise from my hubs and sister). And, one free beer later, I returned to planet earth.

My husband told me he saw someone collapse at the finish line. Later, we found out that same guy, who was just in his 20s, had died. A couple of days after that, I found out he was a family friend of my husband's cousin. And that he had been planning to propose to his longtime girlfriend a month later, on Independence Day. And here I was, moping about not meeting my time goal. And about how the weather had ruined my "big" plans. Talk about putting things into perspective. Talk about first-world problems. I remembered to be thankful that I made it back safely to my guys.

Sometimes—almost all of the time—the race isn't everything. But when it's a goal, it becomes part of your being, and it's often pretty hard to remember the big picture. It's hard to explain to nonrunners why that is. It's illogical. Probably pathological. But I'm pretty sure it's why most of us keep signing up for the next race. God help us.

© 2011 GUF

Bye-bye, boobies!

I'll be the first to say, breastfeeding is not easy. I realize that's not true for all mamas, but it was for me. In the early months, it was sometimes more painful than even my most excruciating (unmedicated) contractions. It was probably the one new-mama thing that made me most tired, took the most amount of work and had the longest learning curve. All that being said, I kind of miss it now that it's over.

I nursed the kiddo for 16 months and six days. That's 491 days. Or 11,784 hours. Or 707,040 minutes. Or 42,422,400 seconds. Any way you look at it, it's no small feat. And I'm proud that I stuck with it and lasted so long!

Before he was born, I had vague notions of easily breastfeeding for a year. I had never read anything about nursing, nor did I take the breastfeeding class lots of new moms in my community raved about. Though I knew it wasn't necessarily easy for everyone, I thought we would just figure things out as we went along and all would unfold naturally.

Then came a bad latch, a tongue-tie that got clipped, colic and the accompanying elimination diets to make sure it wasn't caused by anything I was eating, and feverish bouts of plugged ducts and subclinical mastitis. You can look all that up if you want, but it all just amounted to an array of obstacles on the road of breastfeeding. And my trials in breastfeeding while training for a race added even more interesting hurdles. I wasn't prepared for many of the challenges, and I put more time, effort and money into successfully breastfeeding than I ever expected I would.

When the kiddo was a couple of months old, I was tired and in pain (sometimes the toe-curling type) and wasn't even sure I'd make it to the doctor-recommended minimum of six months of breastfeeding, let alone my own goal of one year. But things got a bit easier and six months came and went. Then it was suddenly eight months, then 12 months, then 13, and I was beginning to fear that weaning might be difficult (and that I would never get a good night of sleep again). After all, my kid inherited my stubbornness. But it happened. Gradually. Partly on his own and partly with our help, he nursed less and less. And in a final leap that included dropping down to one nap and completely night weaning, it was soon just one quick nursing before bed. Then, one night, that session was replaced with just a good-night hug and kiss. And that was that.

When I was first nursing and spending lots of time reading mama forums, I read many posts from moms on how much they missed breastfeeding once it was over. At that time, I didn't really understand how that might feel. It seemed like the baby was attached to a boob 24/7. But, of course, now, here I am, my boobs all back to myself, doing my own reminiscing. And feeling thankful. I know that not everyone who wants to breastfeed can always breastfeed.

I have many memories of nursing and pumping in random places, like in the back seat of a hot car after a half marathon, at the top of a mountain, and while walking in the parking garage of an airport car rental place (thanks to the Ergo and no thanks to National). There many times it was so frustrating that I wanted to give up. But there were also countless times when it was such a sweet and peaceful time to relax and chill out with my little guy. Nostalgia aside, I can say I'm thankful for every session, even the tough ones. It was a sustenance and comfort only I could provide, and some days, I remembered to be grateful for the opportunity.

My son and I have different quiet times now, while sitting and reading books together or during his bedtime story and song. He still comes to me for comfort, and I gladly provide him as many hugs and kisses as he needs. I cherish the bond we have, because I know that one day he won't need me as much. As a friend of mine once said, raising a child is all about a series of weanings. Each stage comes at its own time, and though you may feel sad about the end of one stage, it probably means you did a good job during the last one.

I hope so.

© 2011 GUF

Let's add 'healthy lifestyle' to the baby registry.

A recent study found that parents of young children—particularly moms—were more likely than nonparents to eat poorly and skip exercise. Notably, mothers in the study tended to have higher BMIs (body fat) than women without children. And (despite the shortcomings of the BMI methodology) higher BMIs are correlated with a host of health problems, including diabetes and heart disease. Given all the demands of new parenthood, it's easy to see how even the most careful eater and conscientious exerciser might slack off for a while.

So what's a busy mama (or papa) to do? It's obviously important for us to take care of ourselves, even if we're often too busy to do so. But why do many of us still think that healthy food has to be complicated or that exercising is an indulgence? Maybe it's time to stop thinking about physical activity and good eating as luxuries.

I've found it a bit easier to eat better and exercise more if I treat these goals like training and racing goals. No going to the grocery store without a list. No vague plans to "work out." I made concrete plans (more fresh veggies and whole grains, 12 weeks to a half marathon). Then, I got the right tools, sought my husband's support and found a routine that usually works. Sometimes it doesn't (nachos for dinner, lazy jogging), but I try not to dwell on it. I'm not perfect. But I do try to stay honest about what I need to do better. And I start fresh the next day.

Believe me, I know how difficult it can be to squeeze yet another thing into a busy-parent schedule, especially for a brand new mama who doesn't want to spend too much time away from her newest love or a busy working mom who feels like she's barely keeping up with the demands of work and home. Nursing a colicky baby all night isn't the greatest set-up for a morning run, and looking at a disastrously messy kitchen with a whiny toddler at your heels can nix all motivation to put together a fresh and healthy meal. I've been there.

But I can also attest that a good run or a decent yoga session can do much to neutralize stress and calm the mind. And life is still there when I get back. I just feel better about taking it on. And I like to think I'm modeling good habits for my little one.

When I got back from my run this morning, my kiddo showed me his latest trick (courtesy of dad), which he now does all the time. "What's running?" we ask him, and he swings his arms back and forth while huffing and puffing loudly and grinning. Now that's my kind of coach.

© 2011 GUF

Now that's bouncing back.

A big "You go, mama!" to my running mama hero, Kara Goucher, who finished fifth in today's Boston Marathon. About eight months ago, I met her and her baby bump at an expo the day before I ran my first postbaby half marathon. Seven months ago, she had her little boy. Today she PRed at Boston. If that's not motivation for a mere mortal running mama like me, I'm not sure what is. Congrats, Kara!


Watch more video of 2011 Boston Marathon on flotrack.org


© 2011 GUF

Am I running on empty?

I know I should be quite thankful that one of my bigger challenges as a new mama has just been the change in my sleep. Nonetheless, lack of shut-eye and an often unpredictable sleep schedule can be a big deal and I know other tired parents can understand why a new "sleeping lite" routine might be, quite literally, tiring.

Before my son was born, I was always aiming for a solid eight hours a night. I thought of good sleep as being as important as eating right and exercising often. But then the little dude arrived, then colic, then colds, then vacations, then teething, then molars, then <<insert event here>>. And suddenly, I became one of the something like 70 percent of Americans not getting enough sleep.

It probably hasn't been the greatest for my body, because (among other things) lack of sleep ups cortisol levels, which can wreak havoc on your metabolism and immune system if left unchecked. And I know how important it is to get enough rest to let your body recover and strengthen itself, especially after hard workouts. Prebaby, I indulged in the occasional nap after long runs or rides and I always followed the rule of getting a ton of sleep two nights before a big race, in case jitters robbed me of sleep on the eve of the event. But as a new(ish) mama, all that extra sleep sounds as luxurious as a comped month at the Ritz-Carlton.

Training for the first half marathon I ran postbaby, I know I ran at least two of my long runs after sleepless nights up with a sick or teething babe. I still did the mileage and I still ran the race, but I was slower than my last prebaby half. (It seemed I hadn't been gifted with enough of the fabled postpartum "blood doping.") There was something less satisfying about all of it. Sort of like driving past a beautiful landscape while wearing smudged sunglasses that you can't take off. I'm guessing that was the haze of sleep deprivation.

Thankfully, my sleeping has been returning to near normal since last year's race season. I still wonder what this year will be like. I'm hoping to do at least two half marathons, but am hesitant to take on a full marathon this year because I feel like I couldn't do my best training. I mean, who's to say that the little guy won't be sick and need me the night before my longest run or on the eve of a race? I guess all I can do is stay flexible and plan to shift workouts in case of a truly horrendous night. Not to say it's always easy for type-A me to stray from my plans toward a goal. But this is a life lesson that I'm slowly learning.

It truly sums up life as a parent. It's not all about me (or my silly little races) anymore. A fondness for pounding the pavement is no match for a mama's love.

So, when I need the motivation to get through a bleary-eyed run, I'll just think of Tera Moody, the insomniac marathoner with her eyes on becoming an Olympian. Though I don't think she's a mama, she knows about a different kind of sleeplessness, and I can dig what she's saying:

"Science shows that sleep is critical for performance and recovery and I do know how much better I feel when I get adequate rest. But anyone who has run a marathon knows that it’s not all science."

Thank goodness she's right.

© 2011 GUF

A running mama speaks the truth.

Just got this as my Runner's World Quote of the Week and wanted to share. Some sincere words of wisdom from my running mama hero, Kara Goucher.

"That’s the thing about running: your greatest runs are rarely measured by racing success. They are moments in time when running allows you to see how wonderful your life is."

The line is taken from a blog post she wrote about one of the first runs she took soon after the birth of her son, Colt. Word for word, she is so right!

© 2011 GUF

We're all in this together.

A recent WSJ article told the woeful tales of couples in conflict over exercise, including the life of an Ironman "widow" left behind with her kids while her husband devotes countless hours to triathlon training. So, what's the key to fit marital bliss? According to the story, it's a two-athlete household. "[T]he surest way for a marriage to accommodate an intense exercise regimen is for both spouses to engage in it." I guess I should count myself lucky to be married to a fellow endurance sport enthusiast, then.

Before parenthood, our running shoes, road bikes and wetsuits were our babies. At various times, each of us left the other on a weekend morning for multihour rides, runs or swims. It never seemed strange. We were big into road races and triathlons and it was just our way of life. And now, as parents, it still is. With adjustments.

Training for my first postbaby half marathon, I got by with two weekday runs and a one weekend long run each week. In his early months as a dad, my husband cycled into the mountains with his friends every other weekend instead of each week. And to this day, we often run together with the little one babbling or snoozing away in the BOB.

It can be a difficult task to find balance with a new addition to your family. But, with some effort, it's possible and even fun. Despite lack of sleep and the complete upheaval of our once neat little schedules, we carve out time for sanity-restoring exercise and often feel better because of it. (We just won't get into all the other things that have chipped away at our sanity as new parents.)

Our suggestions to new parents:

1. Have a plan. Map out your races or goals for the year, devise a training plan or schedule and put it all in writing. We use a shared calendar to jot down big training days and races. Knowing your workouts for the day, month and season will help you and your partner plan accordingly and follow through. If you're new to formal training plans, do a quick search online and you'll find countless resources for creating a schedule that's compatible with endurance parenting. For running, I'm a big fan of FIRST and its less-is-more philosophy.

2. Be flexible. Adaptability is a good characteristic for any new parent to have. Even more so for a weekend warrior mom or dad. A hellish night of teething or a sick kiddo might preempt a speed workout or long run. Don't let these bumps in the road break your stride. Accept that they will come up and revise your plans by swapping workouts or shifting training days. Adapting as needed is good mental training for race days when you're dealing with unexpected changes in weather, a surprise mid-race injury or malfunctioning equipment. Ever have two flats in one race? I have. There's no way to train for that, and your success lies completely in how you adapt.

3. Have fun together. The family that runs together has fun together. While I certainly enjoy my alone time on runs, rides and swims, I really love when the three of us can get outside and enjoy a workout together. It turns exercise into a family hobby and is a great way to introduce your little one to the importance of being active. We ran our first race as a family when the kidster was about 6 months old and it's a great memory. He was the first stroller to cross the line, and I chuckle about the fact that he earned his first medal before he could walk. If he decides running is for him, we're looking forward to watching him cross a finish line on his own.

© 2011 GUF

You should go.

After a long work week and several nights with a wakeful toddler who was popping out some premolars, I probably could've used a leisurely Saturday. But it was sunny and in the upper 30s. Perfect for a nice winter run. "I should run," I said, in a noncommittal mumble to myself.

But I was zombie-tired, bored with running, feeling lazy and a honestly a little bit chilled after splashing around in the pool for the kiddo's morning swim lesson. Blah, blah, blah. I was full of excuses usually recited by a fading New Year's resolution exerciser, not by someone who has professed love for a good workout. Then, my husband said the words that make him the greatest coach and teammate of all time: "You should go."

Somehow, that's all it took. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I could drive out to the trail for a change of running scenery. And I might enjoy it. And I might feel more human.

And less than an hour later, I confirmed, yet again, that I'm an endorphin addict. And that running is a serious drug. I mean, how else can you explain my willingness to suit up and actually drive to another location to push my body into a cold wind and over crunchy, week-old icy snow? Or how a This American Life piece about the Brazilian real became the most amazing story ever told because I listened to it while aiming for a negative split? Or how I forgot that the past week had been so exhausting that it brought me to frustrated tears just a couple of days prior? Everything was perfect and wonderful and awesome and great. Life was beautiful!

If you know this feeling, you understand that this isn't hyperbole. Everything suddenly becomes amazing, and you want to love everyone with your whole heart. If you think I sound crazy and simple-minded, then you haven't enjoyed a runner's high. You should really try for it some time. If it can make a tired mama forget a week of sleepless nights, it can cure anything. Running is one hell of a drug. I'm glad that I'm so addicted. I think my family might be, too.

© 2011 GUF

I'm new here.

Hi. This would be the moment where I awkwardly glance at the ground, sheepishly shuffle my foot, then look up at you with a smile and extend my hand to greet you. Nice to meet you! I'm new here.

I have no lofty goals. I'm just a writer-type who has decided that while it's nice to write for others, it's pretty great to write for yourself. So I guess you could call me a bit selfish. But as a New Year's resolution, I've decided it's OK for me to do things for myself sometimes. Sounds simple, but it can be a tough exercise as a new mama. Well, this mama.

This post initially had explanations of how I tried to keep a blog in the past but didn't succeed because of this, that and the other. Good thing I'm also an editor-type. In the spirit of New Year's resolutions, I'm going to avoid the coulda-shoulda-wouldas. (At least right now.)

Over the next year, I plan to blog about the joys (and, let's face it, challenges) of being a mama who also happens to be a wife, a friend, a sister, a daughter, a runner, a triathlete, a writer and, in general, a complex gal with a lot going on.

For me, "you go, mama," can be a victory cheer, a mantra when the going gets tough or a starting-line chant to get moving. It just depends on the day.

On your mark, get set ...

© 2011 GUF