We're gonna make it after all....

Tomorrow I leave for Reach the Beach. Our team has cycled through many potential participants, and finally picked up the 12th runner yesterday. I am hoping my team mates are avoiding risky activities like, I dunno, walking or taking stairs. We’ve already lost one runner to a broken foot.

At this stage, I think that most of my organizing duties are done, and I can safely speak about them in the past tense. In the end, I think what it most needed to play this role of captain is patience. And, if I were to do it again, a set of rules on payment (and, more importantly, any expectation of refunds if you drop out late in the game).

Course maps are printed, my clothes are laid out on the bed, we’ve divvied up food, we have safety vests and blinky lights, the vans are rented, and the weather is looking to be pretty darn fantastic. Now all I have to do is run!

And the excitement begins…

Up and running again

Ok, it's been a while since I posted. Stuff happened.

Two things of note in my running life:

1. I just checked the Falmouth Road Race site, and I'm in. I expected it as I got in by lottery last year, but there was a small part of me that doubted the "one in, always in" theory. So August 10 I'll be running under some garden hoses in Falmouth.
2. Today is the "official" kick off on a Reach the Beach training program. Not that I haven't been training already... I do have a 12 week program that I printed off for half marathon prep that I'll be using. The distances suggested aren't the main concern - it's more the consistency of getting out there to run, and cross training. I am going to be a bit more disciplined in when I do what, essentially.

As for running in general, I had a moment (ok, a week) where I couldn't get the fun factor to emerge. When I first started running lo those many years ago, my only rule for the hobby was that it had to be fun, and when it wasn't fun I'd stop. So I took off a few days without feeling guilty. This past weekend I was back at my favorite local rail trail and had a really, really lovely 7 mile jaunt. It smelled like warm pine almost the whole time. The next day, I mapped out a new-ish route on local roads which totaled around 4.5 miles. It was mostly quiet, and while not as constantly pretty as a rail trail, it did have it's moments.

I think the unfun spell is broken. And just in time!

I've made some changes that have also made a difference: I'm back to my old Polar A3 HRM, aiming to stay within a specific range (and walking if I go over it for too long) rather than a specific speed. I haven't used the Nike+ thing for a while, and while I miss it sometimes, I think we're better off apart. I also have put away the Garmin 205 that I had switched over to post Nike+ aggravation. I have also resumed the running log habit.

Lastly, I have often gone running without any music. Unusual for me, as I live and breathe music most of the time. Given that Reach the Beach doesn't allow headphones, though, I started training without, and I've really enjoyed the quiet. If anything, I listen to talking - This American Life and Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me are the most frequently tapped podcasts. Given that they are each a minimum of 45 minutes in length, there's a consistency in cadence (unlike songs, which shift every 3-5 minutes) that I like.

Oh - and I was recently reminded that I am doing a mini-triathlon (just for kicks - no aspirations here) in about a month. Methinks I should find a pool.

You spin me right round baby, right round

To follow up on my previous post, I haven’t done anything about the Nike+ sensor situation. I spoke with someone at a Nike store who said I’d likely get a positive response if I sent in a comment, but that inspiration has not hit me yet. I am liking the return to running sans gadgets.

So, it’s April 4th, and this morning it snowed in Manchester, NH. I have this memory of my birthday (which was about a week ago) being in warm weather. That hasn’t happened in years, yet still I hold on to that memory – which may have been one birthday for all I know – and expect that each year will be like that.

I shouldn’t really complain, as I did technically spend my birthday in the sun. We were in California, dividing a week between San Francisco, the PCH, and a brief stop in LA. It was a terrific trip, even if it made the return to our “spring” weather even more jarring…

Lately I’ve been checking out the spinning classes at my gym. It’s one of those things I’ve wanted to investigate for a while, but never made the time for in my day. Given the icky outdoor weather lately, I’ve been less inspired to run outdoors, giving me the perfect reason to get on the bike.

The first time I ventured in I tried the morning class. The leader was a nice guy, and did the appropriate amount of pushing-not-forcing for that early in the morning. However, did I mention that the class is at 6am? I consider myself a morning person and all, but 6am means waking up pre-6am, and that just wasn’t very pleasant.

So I switched to the evening class, and I’ve stuck with it. I’m looking to make it a regular habit, and as such I’ve formed some opinions on the sport and my evolution therein. For example: foregoing bike shorts is a mistake. Learned that one on the first time out… My poor bum.

The thought I kept returning to in the most recent class is the relativity of the 1-10 effort scale that we are instructed to follow. I don’t have it memorized, but it is, essentially:

1-5: Don’t bother even remembering what these mean, because classes never involve being in this zone.
6: Warm-up, some effort involved
7: More effort involved
8: Out of comfort zone. Quads on fire. Talk to self to keep going, and hope your neighbor can’t hear you.
9-10: Can’t continue.

Why is the “can’t continue” zone two numbers? If you can’t continue shouldn’t it just be that zone?

Also, pain is a very subjective thing. My 8 may be your 6, or vice versa. If I may speak as an Aries, I’m a bit competitive by nature, and loathe to admit – or even realize – that I may need to ease up. If I may speak as a girl who like to psychoanalyze herself, I know myself well enough to know that I am pretty terrible at admitting to physical weakness, a trait that has gotten me into trouble more than once. Not my best trait, but it’s how I’m wired.

Mind you, I keep going back. While it hurts, it’s a good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that makes me think I will be stronger for it. And it sure beats running in the April sleet.

Gadgets, gadgets everywhere, and nothing that will sync

It’s snowing again. Pretty and all, but I am now on the bus with people awaiting the arrival of more spring-like weather. However, given the white flakes falling down, I made my way over to the gym to get in a 4 mile run and some weights.

As I have mentioned in the past, I have become slightly addicted to my Nike+ sport kit, using it to track my miles and pace. Even on the days I don’t listen to music, I still tote along my Nano and use the Nike+ tools. For someone who is looking for basic tracking contrivances and not a lot of extra stuff, this setup really does work well.

However, I do need to lodge a complaint: the sensors suck.

This wasn’t always the case. My first shoe sensor was fantastic, lasting for just over a year. This seemed about right to me given my general weekly mileage (in the 15-20 mile range last year). The sport kit costs $30, and given all the running-related things one can spend money on (jackets and socks and shirts, oh my!), it was, arguably, a cheap investment. Heck, any large race will cost you 2x-3x as much.

But, as all electronic things go, it eventually died. This was in November 2007. I ran for a while without it, but missed the little guy and started thinking about when I’d get a replacement. Fast forward to December, when I discovered it was now possible to simply buy a shoe sensor, as opposed to a whole new kit. $20 instead of $30.

Bought one. The short version of the story: It never hooked up with my Nano. Picture me banging my foot, or just an empty shoe, around to try to get them to connect… After searching around for help and not finding any, I gave up/gave in and bought the whole kit again. $30.

The new sensor kit worked immediately, but showed up as a new user. Thus, any previous runs I’d logged were not accounted for, and any of the online challenges in which I’m involved didn’t count my miles. Mind you, I’m not really winning any of the challenges – as with my actual racing life, my online racing life is one of a middle of the pack runner – but I still want it to be known that I’m trying.

It took a while (end of December-ish), but finally I got the two users (i.e., me and me) to speak to one another. Yay! Back to the regularly scheduled program.

Now, only two months later, the sensor is toast. Less than 250 miles logged, and it’s done for. Let’s do the math… $20 for non-working sensor, $30 for short-lived sport kit = $50 of unhappy me. And Apple won’t take them back (although I’m not done with that part yet… I’m still pressing to get something for the poor product quality).

I am so frustrated with the situation, and possibly even more frustrated for letting the situation make me frustrated.

So, this morning, as I hit the treadmill, it was just me and some music. No sport kit. And I still ran four miles. And it still counted.

I think I’m reverting back to the GOFRL (good old fashioned running log). Runner’s World happened to send me one last week – I think as a thank you for my subscription oh, two years ago – and tonight I’ll log a few miles into it.

ain't nothing gonna break my stride...

How many running blogs have used that title? Allow me to be the latest one...

I headed out today for a 5 mile run. It was supposed to be 8, but I managed to whittle enough of the day away doing who knows what to pinch the amount of time I had for a relaxed run (i.e., not worrying about time) and shaved off a few. Perhaps that was a subconscious thing; I'm choosing to not read in to it too deeply.

It started off as a pretty eh run - I went out of the gate too fast, and started to feel the repercussions in the first two miles. My bad. I know better than to gun it at the start, particularly as I live in a rather hilly area, and on top of that I live at the top of the hill. Thus, the early part of most runs is heading downhill, and the last stretch is mostly uphill.

Good training for races, sure, but sometimes I think it would be nice to live in a flat area. Like Arizona. Here are topography maps for my standard paths:

My usual three mile route:




My usual five mile route:




My usual eight mile route:




It's like a really long, really slow roller coaster.

Today was the five mile path pictured above, and after allowing myself a bit of a walking interlude post starting too fast, I finished pretty strong. My ego was boosted a little when I realized that I was jogging my way all the way up the final stretch of hill. I realized that this was happening about half way through, and spent the rest of the time trying not to think about it too much, lest I start to wonder if I was fatigued and start to psych myself out.

Instead, I thought about the fact that I was hitting a stride (hence the blog entry title), and it felt good. The legs were going, the breathing was steady, and my body was relaxed. It's been a while since I have felt like a little machine moving along, a feeling I generally enjoy.

Given that my team is now officially registered for Reach the Beach (my credit card is on fire a little from laying out the hefty entry fee), I have started to think more seriously about the training involved. I have a few races planned, and even a teeny little triathlon for kicks. More on those another time. For now, I'm just happy that my body is starting to get back the muscle memory it had a year ago, and that I'm finding my stride again.

Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot

I was duped by the weather report yesterday. It was predicted to be cold, windy, and rainy for most of the day. Looking out the window, all of that was true. Not in the mood to gear up for a windy, chilly run, I opted to head to the gym and run on a treadmill.

I don’t love running on a treadmill, but it does the job when necessary.

Anyways, after chatting with the cute membership girl who initially signed me up for the place, I headed over to my usual spot to get on the belt and jog for a bit. I tend to go to the same area as a) there is the option of not having a television screen in front of you, and b) I have certain objects along the warehouse-like ceiling that I generally stare at while I visualize being outside. I am a creature of habit.

About 2.5 miles into the run, the strangest thing happened – I started to overheat. Not just get sweaty, but more akin to an internal kiln being lit. It seemed like the air wasn’t moving around me (perhaps in that part of the gym it doesn’t really), and my internal temperature rose by a couple of degrees. I stepped off to the sides of the moving belt for a minute to slowly wave my arms (I’m sure this looked quite odd) and create some sort of faux breeze, and then resumed. A mile later I had to do it again.

Of course, once I went through this self-cooling behavior a couple of times, I started to second guess myself on what was happening. Was I tricking myself into thinking that I was overheating, so I could cease with the day’s run? Should I really have gone outside despite the rain?

Stupid brain – it doesn’t really like to shut off. It just spins and spins.

I had this conversation with myself for a while (which, I should add, also included me cheering myself on and thinking about my longer-term goals), until I hit my stated goal of five tread-miles and moved on to the stretching portion of the workout.

After taking a cold shower to shut off the kiln, I got dressed and headed outside. Where it was totally beautiful and sunny. Almost like a perfect fall day. Damn.

T minus 5 days

Hi.

I am technically supposed to be working, but it’s my last week at this job and I don’t have a heck of a lot to do. I am past the point of trying to look busy. Or caring if I don’t. I’m closer to the feeling of, “what are they going to do, fire me?” which gives me plenty of time to do things like write a little blog entry, or take care of administrative items on the home front.

On an semi-related note, I have been here at my desk for hours and spoken with no one. I’ve gotten emails from people who are two desks away, but no spoken words. It’s totally weird how little they talk to each other some days.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, I made a commitment to run this year’s Reach the Beach relay. I took advantage of this non-busy work time to organize and register my team. We’ll soon be paid up (which is the point at which you are really, really registered), and then I can start to turn my focus from logistics to the actual training.

The race isn’t until September, which is long enough away from now that I feel like I have some luxury of time to set out a plan and ramp up to actually following it. While I have been fairly consistent with my running/strengthening, this is just the excuse I need to take it up a notch. First step in that is getting organized. Rather than just, “I think I’ll go for a run,” I need to start thinking about some sort of schedule and more attention paid to what I put into my body. Which roughly translates as how can I still answer my sweet tooth and maintain proper nutrition on the whole.

I also wouldn’t mind taking my mile time down a bit, and I know that’s entirely possible if I put in the effort.

Yesterday I went on a little cross training adventure, heading over to the Boston Rock Gym with a climbing-enthusiast friend of mine. If he could climb his way to the office and repel home, I’m sure he would. My climbing skills are novice to say least, and while I was technically belay certified at a college gym, I liken that to learning to SCUBA dive in a resort pool – it just isn’t the same.

After practicing my figure 8 knots for a while and learning some climb-related lingo at said enthusiast’s house, off we went to the gym. I passed my test with semi-flying colors (perhaps walking colors is more appropriate) and we proceeded to pick our way through some of the various climbs offered all along the walls.

Was it a superfuntastic time? Mostly. Being nervous that I would screw up and let him drop 30 feet to the ground below (or have him land on top of me) made it a little harder to focus on the fun aspect. And man, does it give a workout to the fingers and wrists… Owie.

I am also new enough to the sport that I can’t help but be periodically distracted by the way the harnesses, um, exaggerate certain parts of the anatomy. Not to mention highlighting any extra cellulite on the thigh area. If that’s not a reminder to get thy ass to the gym/hit the roads, I don’t know what is.

Still, today I am proud of the soreness throughout my arms, as it’s a sign of the effort exerted yesterday.

Tonight I’ll focus on the lower half. Given this is my last week of commuting to Cambridge regularly, I’m trying to head out on the Minuteman Path frequently. It is (was?) a nice perk of this office location. Four miles is the minimum I’ll aim for, and, pending weather, it’ll hopefully be more like six.

Later!

Back to the middle and around again

Things I've learned about having a long commute: it isn't very good for finding the time to blog.

It also isn't very good for the environment, but I knew that part already.

After four and a half months of a new job, I'm leaving. This has been a whole new experience for me, and I think it's been a good one. In short, I like the people I work with, but the job itself isn't a good fit. So when the opportunity arose to return to my former employer in a new capacity, I went for it.

Two weeks left at the current post. They are going to both fly and drag on at the same time...

Honestly, I really should avoid talking about "what I do" with anyone. I think it's just confusing to try and follow me; even I'm bored by it at times. I've become rather adept at avoiding the question, responding with witty retorts or diversions. For now, I'll continue with that approach, at least until it feels more settled. And as far as the resume is concerned, this job will have never existed.

Instead, I'm focusing on things like my commitment to head up a team for Reach the Beach this year. I've wanted to do this race for years, and finally committed myself to doing it. It isn't until September, but having that goal really helps me to shift from my normal run-for-sanity routine to something that feels more like training. I.e., pushing myself to be a little faster, go a little farther, dig a little deeper.

I know most of the people on my team, and am very excited. Great group of people, all in it for fun (with a dash of competitive spirit). I tried to cherry pick friends who have the capacity to make the best of any given situation, knowing that we'll all be smelly and tired at some point during the race. And when those situations arise, you can either become cranky, or laugh it off.

I do not want cranky. I do not respond well to cranky. Not this Cranky, because I do like him... the other, more generic kind.

As team captain, I see myself as a bit of a cheerleader, and can't bring myself to say things like, "No whining allowed!" At least, not directly. I'll say it - and have said it - in other ways. I also need to keep thinking of nice ways to encourage the slower runner to pick it up a bit. I doubt we'll run out of time given the full makeup of the team (that would totally suck), but there's always that little part of my brain that can't help but worry.

So, once again, I am in transition. New job, new commute, new training plan. All of this is good news to me!

From winter to fall

Took my first digger of the season this morning. Not so gracefully, but with a bit of style, IMHO.

I was out on the Minuteman Trail, as per usual, and had an internal commentary going about how well I had handles any icy stretch. My approach is a semi-prance step, lifting the legs a little higher to accentuate the up down motion, and minimizing the back and forth movement. Wait - that makes it sound like I am hopping, or a police horse... Trust me, it works for me.

Anyhow, I was plodding along and heard a bicyclist coming from behind. I went to step towards the edge of the path to get out of his way, and caught my toe on a tall chunk of ice. That's when the slo-mo part of the fall began. It seemed that I had all kinds of time to think through how I'd fall, or perhaps I just recalled memories of my skateboard days when falling was fairly common. In any case, I pulled my best Boris Becker impression and rolled in a tidy ball, protecting the hands and chin.

The bike guy stopped and asked if I was ok, which was nice of him. I don't even think I made eye contact thanks to my temporarily injured pride. My hope is that from the outside it looked as if I pitched forward, dove into a somersault, and then rolled back on to my feet. It went that smoothly.

Luckily, my legs were sort of numb from the cold by that point, so I hardly felt anything. Wrist and palms were a little sore, but that's it. Within seconds, I was on my way again.

I am sure it won't be the only slip and slide of the season!

early morning run

Things that made yesterday morning’s run memorable:

• Watching someone take advantage of the early morning light to take pictures of Spy Pond and its inhabitants
• Seeing Spy Pond in the early morning light
• Passing a young boy who was nearly invisible beneath his bundles of clothing, happily pedaling his training-wheeled bicycle a few feet behind his mom
• Feeling like I was wearing the perfect balance of clothing – not too hot, not too cold (this is an ongoing quest)
• Running to mellower music than usual. It was just that kind of morning.
• Hitting a groove, finding a stride, and knowing that I was speeding up without any extra perceived effort.
• Being out and about just as the sun is coming up, making up for the fact that it sets so early these days.

Gym foul

Today I checked out the gym at my office building. Two treadmills, two stationary bikes, an elliptical, some weight machines and dumbells squeezed into a corner, and a huge space to stretch/host a pilates class. It's small, but it's something, and it will help me continue to keep up with physical activity even with my newly increased commuting time.

Treadmills aren't my favorite, and I much prefer being outside. Still, it is a nice backup, and when the weather turns super cold here in New England, I'm happy that I can still go for a run to clear my head. I've been running outside since I started the new gig, and last night decided I just didn't want to get up that extra 15 minutes early (read: 4:45am) to hit the road, beat much - but not all,, shockingly - of the traffic, and get on the minuteman to enjoy the morning air.

So this morning I found myself on a treadmill, with a short run as a goal so I would also have time for a little strengthening (something I don't do often enough). The treadmill faces a mirror, forcing me to either watch myself run or stare at the ceiling. I studied my gait for a little bit, and decided I liked my new-ish running shorts from REI. And I stared at the ceiling a lot.

As I was finishing up, I realized I forgot to grab my towel in the car and bring it with me. Not wanting to head out into the cold parking lot when I was all sweaty, I committed a total gym foul - I used someone else's towel. I know P is probably cringing at this... Heck, I needed a towel, this one had been there for a few days, it was clean, there was no one else in the locker room... It was all too easy. I tried to leave it pretty dry in case the owner came around, and luckily I escaped with no one the wiser. Except, well, you.

Manchester Half

On Sunday I ran a half marathon in my hometown. Never did I think I would say that while I am living in Manchester, a town where I have run for four years and often go for miles without seeing any other runners. But there I was on Sunday, lined up on Elm Street with about 1600 others, getting ready to kick off the first annual Manchester Marathon/Half Marathon.

And you know what? It was great.

I had pretty low expectations, I admit, largely tainted by my overall feelings around living in Manchester. But in this case, I was pleasantly surprised. So as much as I can highlight the negative aspects of this place, I also need to give props where they are due.

The weather was just perfect. The rain and wind from the day before had cleared out, and it was around 50 degrees, sunny, and dry at the start. The field was not overwhelmingly big, but not small... Even without any official type of organization (no corrals, no people telling you where to go, not exactly knowing in which direction you'd be taking off) we all found our way to the start line and placed ourselves accordingly in the pack. Everyone played nice; no grumbling.

The course itself was tough, with enough hills to leave this girl with stiff calves the next day. Some were steep, and some just long. There was one particular street that was killer - it went uphill for around a mile, and then turned left to get even steeper for another few hundred yards. Friends standing at the top to cheer people reported afterwards that "everyone just looked broken." That was around the 10k mark, meaning we still had a ways to go. Still, people stayed positive.

I talked to more people on this course than I have in any race (generally I'm not really a stranger talker). Just little chats as you realize you have been alongside the same person for a mile or so. They'd organically end, and we'd go our own ways. It was nice.

Traffic wasn't entirely closed off along the course, but the police and volunteers did a good job of fending off cars from intersections so runners did not have to pause and wait. The reaction of drivers who were held back ranged from annoyed (even going to far as to honk at us) to cheering us on (even going so far as to honk at us). It was easy to ignore the less than happy drivers - for this one day, these few hours, they could sit tight. I think this is the one thing that will need to be addressed in next years race, which is already being discussed as having an expanded field.

Also of note on the course is that the half and full marathon routes were the same for the first part. At 13 miles, I split left while the full marathon peeps split right and headed off to the west side of town. So some of the people I spoke with en route were actually going for the full 26. With this size of a field, it was easy to mix the two, and the transition seemed to go quite smoothly.

As it was a small race, the finishers area at the end wasn't terribly packed. I stayed for a massage (which seemed to last for 20 minutes or so), tasted some soup at the "soup off" (I voted for the broccoli and cheese soup from CJs) and then walked two miles to my home. Which, incidentally, was around mile 11 of the course.

I spoke to a few others afterwards who were as excited as I was that there was an event to pull people together in Manchester. It simply doesn't happen often enough.

I'll end this roundup with a short story on life in this town. I was getting my hair cut the day before, and talking with the woman who cuts my hair about the Manchester race. Several of her clients were running in it. As we are chatting about the route, and other races in the area, she nonchalantly slipped in, "I hear there's another race happening in New York tomorrow."

Adjusting the days

The past few weeks have been a blissful time without any official type of employment to speak of. I spent some time in NYC, then to Chicago, and then had friends up for the weekend. Completely lovely.


Last week I started my new gig, meaning all of the schedule-as-you-go attitude has to shift if I want to continue to do the things I like to do. For the time being, my commute is long (~40 miles each way, which in traffic is 1.5 hours) and is undertaken each weekday. This will be shifting, but not for a few weeks, if not months. The job shift is worth it, but it involves some sacrifice for sure.


First thing is getting to bed. This is hard when your baseball team is heading to the World Series and the games end late. Even when they are breaking my heart, I know I will find myself unable to tear myself away, in case the game shifts in our favor. That's the beauty of the game.


Then there's waking up earlier. My non-scientific obervation to date is that the morning commute has worsened since my last Boston-area job stint. The thought of waking up before 6am hurts me, but for the commuter the choice is to leave at 6 and have a one hour-ish commute, or leave at 6:30 and have a 1.5-2 hour commute. Leave at 7 and it could be worse... So I have been finding my way onto my feet at 5:15 to get ready to start the day. I'll get used to it.


Perhaps more importantly, I want to build running/general exercise into the days. One of the good things about my job's location is the proximity to bike/run/walking paths. In particular, I am basically on top of the Minuteman Trail, which is long and devoid of cars (although there's always the bicycles to dodge). I did a test run last week, and I think it is going to work out well.

At the moment I am in Ann Arbor, the home base for my division at work. I was in a training session today, and will head back tomorrow. Good stuff, even if it makes my head spin. We manged to get out early, giving me some extra time to find my way downtown (have I mentioned lately how much I love my GPS?) and then back to my brother- and sister-in law, with whom I'm staying.

I plotted out a small run (around 4 miles) to check out the local neighborhood. It's hilly and chilly, but it made for a really nice way to unwind from the day. Not to mention move around, after sitting and poking my way through unfamiliar software all day.

Tomorrow I will try to find time to run a new route. It's the best way to see the area!

Chi-town visit

Given the option, I think I'd be pretty happy to not work. Or, perhaps, just travel for a living. Is there a Lonely Planet guide out there waiting to be authored by me?

I write to you from Chicago, having arrived here last night. I love this town. Each time I come, there's more to discover and explore. At the same time, as I gather knowledge, I revisit some of my favorite spots. Case in point: last night P and I headed over to Lou Malnati's for some deep dish pizza. Yes, it's a chain, but who cares. We sat at the bar to watch the Cubs/Dbacks game, and chatted with the bartender, Kirby. A very welcoming start to this visit.

Another reason I love coming to Chicago is that it is a running town. I was particularly excited to go out this morning because I have new running shoes that I purchased only yesterday. My former Nike Zoom+ pair, while lovingly used, was starting to feel like I was running on a few pieces of wet towel squished together. That said, I headed over to my local running store and spent the better part of an hour running up and down the street in various pairs of shoes. The guy working with me was super patient, and I ended up with a pair of Asics. I haven't had a pair of Asics shoes since my high school volleyball days, and the report after my first four miles on them is thumbs up.

While there, I also ended up helping another female customer with some sport bra advice. Poor guys in the store had no clue what to recommend, and had never heard of wearing two bras at once for better support (an unfortunate statement on the sport bra industry that women have resorted to this option). Once I heard she was going down the two bra route, I instantly suggested a couple of options for the bigger chested ladies. I understand her plight...

I'm off to pick up some tickets for an architecture tour from the vantage point of the Chicago River. I have wanted to check this out since my first visit to Chicago, and have never been able to do so. Then off to sneak into the AAFP Expo (the meeting that has drawn P here, and how I am tagging along) and check out the swag options.

Guaranteed to be a good day!

The cord is officially cut

I turned in my laptop and badge for my previous job. I am now officially a non-employee. It's both strange and exhilarating.

When I went to drop off the computer, I saw a few people I have worked with closely, and one of them quickly started talking work. Detailed ongoings of work. And there I was, in my jeans and t-shirt, clearly not focused on any sort of work talk, feeling elated on the inside that all of this was no longer my responsibility or concern. Still care about the overall mission of said company, but you can keep the day to day mishigas.

That said, I am now in pure vacation mode. My bag is packed, and in about 15 minutes I'm heading down to Boston to see a Red Sox game with a friend. I'll stay chez him overnight, and then hit the road for NYC in the morning. Very excited to get to the city, see P (who is there for the month), give up the car for a few, run in the park, and simply enjoy just being able to do whatever, whenever.

I'll come back for a couple of days, and then head to Chicago for 5 days. That's the longest contiguous time I''ll have ever spent there, and I do love that town. The only plan I have thus far is to meet up with a friend (and her mom) who is running the marathon and check out the expo. Looking forward to being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people and product.

Given the amount of vacation time I never used while working at the previous job, I have ample vacation time to cover all of this. With some to spare.

I can't believe how well this is all falling in to place. I should switch jobs more often.

The bug is back

Back in March I mentioned a little bug that lives in the Nike+ sport thingy, which fixed itself once I hit a mileage milestone (500 miles). Or so I thought. This morning, after a run that certainly didn't put me into any new milestone territory, Paula Radcliffe was kind enough to let me know that she hoped I was feeling great, because I'd covered another 500km.

Perhaps the mile has gone the way of US dollar, and now kilometers are worth more.

I blame George Bush.

Around the world

That's the song that's stuck in my head. Daft Punk. It has exactly one line, repeated 144 times. Easy to learn the lyrics; hard to get them out of my head.

Here's a little insight into my brain: I quickly did the math and figured out that there are 144 lines. In my head, that instinctively translates to 12 squared. Which translates to 4 x 3. Four is my favorite number, and 3 is P's. Thus it is a good song.

Sometimes, I scare myself.

It's been a while since I've posted anything here, which means there are lots of stories lost. Lots of runs that won't be recorded here.

I'm in the middle of a job transition, which is part of the radio silence. At the stage where I am physically still in the job I've held for a few years, but mentally starting to fade. There are a few things I want to neatly tie together to ensure I leave on a good note, and it's been tough to even motivate for those small things... Ah, well. It's been a good ride, I'm leaving on very good terms, and I'm excited for the next chapter.

In between chapters, I'm taking a few weeks off. That I am also very much looking forward to. In that time, I'll be heading to Chicago for a few just to hang out. The day I depart is the day of the Chicago Marathon, which I didn't realize when I initially booked the ticket. I'm excited to mooch off of the vibe, and see some friends who will be running. Maybe sneak into the Expo... A girl can always use another pair of good running socks.

Aside from Chicago, I have no firm plans. Which is lovely. Maybe visit my mom, maybe go running at any time of day, maybe melt my brain in front of the television, finish a few books... Who cares. It will be fall, it will be beautiful, and I will have no homework for three blessed weeks. I've earned it. :)

On the running front, it's been a good end of summer. I reached out of my comfort zone recently and responded to an ad on craigslist for a running partner. I found the guy as I was getting ready to post something myself. It gets a little lonely running on your own all the time, and having someone there to keep you running when you want to stop is really useful. Plus some chatting makes the miles go by. I do like running on my own, but periodically seeing another runner in Manchester would be nice.

So I met up with the guy, who I'll call WestSide, on Monday at 6:30am. First meeting, particularly when I don't know someone from Adam and the main purpose is to run, had lots of awkward potential. Not to mention me being a little nervous as I still have it stuck in my head that most people run faster than me, even though I know I have never finished dead last in a race.

Off we went, on a route he led. We were on his side of town, which I've driven through but never walked through. It was quite pretty, I have to say. And much flatter than my part of town. What a pleasure to not have the lsat 1.5 miles be pure uphill. In the end, we went for around 5 miles at a chat pace, talking some and not talking some. He wasn't a serial killer. Just a normal guy who also wanted someone to run with. I think we'll be heading out again.

The only downside was that I forgot my Nike+ thingy, meaning the run didn't "count" for my online tracking. I'm past my initial addition to the thing, but really would have liked to have known how far the route WestSide selected took us. Damn.

This weekend is the annual Reach The Beach Relay here in NH. I considered pulling together a team of quirky runners to have at it, but had to stop when I realized the race started on the second day of Rosh Hashanah. That counted me out, sadly. Luckily, the Jewish calendar follows the moon, so it should not be a conflict next year. I've already started listing out potential team players in my head...

For this year, I'll simply volunteer on Saturday. No idea what I'll be doing, but it involves showing up in Exeter at 7:45 am and staying there all day. At the moment I hear they are forecasting rain. Should be soggy fun!

Race Report: Falmouth

There are big races, like any one of the Rock 'N Roll marathons. There are small races taking place in any given town each week. And then there are the big small races, which is where the Falmouth Road Race fits in. My goal was to drink enough water, run the whole distance, keep a decent pace amongst the jockeying for space, and have fun. Using that as a measuring stick, all goals were accomplished.

The race is in its 35th year, and attracts an elite field as well as the rest of us schlubs. Thanks to P for standing on the sidelines and getting the following shots of the elites:

She got a few schlubs, too... And cheered me on at just the right time. Seeing her on the sideline around mile 5 provided more energy than a GU packet, for sure.

The course runs 7 miles, shifting between an oceanside and inland route. Before the gun went off, the requisite patriotic tunes were sung. In Falmouth, there a little extra special something when they sing "America the Beautiful," though, as the author was born in the town. Made me love New England a little more somehow.

The field was packed - 9,000 - 10,000 runners all headed the same way on a two lane road. It was generally 10 across at any given moment, so when I'd find myself between packs (is it just instinctual that people group together?) I'd shift the pace to try and stay there. Inevitably, though I'd want to push ahead and poke my way forward through the next group. I passed a lot of people, a lot of people passed me.

Miles 1-3 went fast, with rolling hills and a mix of sun and shade. Then the shade parts became fewer and far between, making the "this is fun!" part harder to remember... I considered talking a break at mile 5, but didn't want to lose momentum. Shade returned, and I regained my stride. By the time I got to mile 6 I was speeding up, and rather sad that it would soon be done. Mile 7 came too soon.

I saw more kids in this race than I anticipated. Pairs of siblings, parents and kids... Clearly this is a race that people choose as their one race a year, and the tradition is passed along in their family. One sign I saw along the way was cheering on over 6 family members.

Another sign on route simply read, "Good job, mom! Can we please keep our txt messaging?" Well done, kids.

I'd like to publicly thank all the local residents who pointed their garden hoses into the street, thus providing a brief respite from the heat. You'd know when one was coming as the entire field of runners would shift to one side of the street in the hopes of getting hit with a few drops. And thanks to the kids who made up their own water stations along the way. Far less congested than the official water stations (although thank heavens for those as well). All totaled I'd say I poured more water over my head than into my mouth. Hooray for the people who shared ice from their coolers with whomever needed a cube.

I can see why people come again and again to this race. Well organized, local feel, nice peeps, a mix of everyday Joe and world class runners. Falmouth, I'll see you next year!

Falmouth, by way of New York

This weekend is the annual Falmouth Road Race, a beautiful 7 mile course. It is my first year running it (had to get in by lottert), and I'm very much looking forward to it. I've heard only good things, and I know a few folks who are running it this year, so all in all I will be in very good company.

Initially P and I thought we'd spend some time on the Cape as long as we had to head to Falmouth (which, if you look at a map of MA, is the flabby part of the upper arm that forms the Cape). We have yet to make the pilgrimage to Provincetown this year, and thought this might be the time. Park ourselves on a beach, eat some good food, people watch, ride bikes along the dunes, etc.

Then P had a flash of brilliance: instead of the 4 hour drive to the tip of the Cape, how about heading to NYC instead? "This is the weekend we should head to Coney Island," she said. Brilliant, that girl.

Shockingly, this pair of NY Jews (her from Manhattan and me from Long Island) has never been to Astroland. We, who shaped our honeymoon around rollercoaster parks east of the Mississippi, have never ridden the Cyclone. And sadly, this is the final season the amusement park that graces the place. The property has been sold, and will be developed in to something that seems to be more Disney than Brooklyn. It's sad.

At least the Cyclone will be preserved, given it's national landmark status and ownership by the City of NY.

We have also been wanting to head to the MOMA to see the Richard Serra exhibit. The images I have seen are quite striking, and in person the enormity will be brought home. I have a small fear that I will feel like I am walking through a giant steel maize maze, but I'm keeping an open mind.

Looks like there's also a documentary about the font Helvetica showing. What is it about typeface that intrigues me so? We see it all the time, in various formats, yet there always seems to be a cool history attached if you take the time to look for it. Did you know Helvetica is considered "the official typeface of the twentieth century?" Methinks I'm about to get to know this little sans serif friend better.

Given the weather predicted for the weekend, and the possibility of flash flooding, I'm thinking we'll head to the museum today, and then Coney Island tomorrow. This is a switch in plans, as we were hoping to go to Coney Island on a non-weekend day. Saturday afternoon we'll leave the city, head up the coast, and find some place to stay on the way to Falmouth.

This may also be the trip that we allow ourselves to walk through the doors of the three story Container Store that is around the corner from where we are staying. All of those pretty stuff-holding objects and promises of organization have a dangerous cash sucking ability.

As for the road race, which originated this whole trip in the first place, my game plan is to run today (hello, Central Park!) and take Saturday off. Even if it rains I should be out there on the road. I went for one of the wettest runs in a while earlier this week, where my socks just became puddles and my shorts simply clung to my legs. Felt good to be out there, though. Sort of like swimming on pavement. Somehow it reminded me of my early days of running when I only went out at night and ran through the snow and ice. At that point I wore any old cotton t-shirt and sweatshirt, insulated rugby pants, and whatever socks I had that seems cushy. Compared to those days, this is nothing.

Saturday I must remember to drink lots of water and eat food that provides some good fuel, even though it will mean being on the lookout for bathrooms while we are inevitably wandering about the city streets.

On a completely random note, I know the HRC presidential debate on gay issues was held last night. One of the three people on the questioning panel was Melissa Etheridge. Really? I like her and all, but is she going to become our Bono?

Morning observations

I went out to run around part of the local high school cross country trail this morning, which loops around our local ski hill. It's wooded, hilly, quiet, and about a mile around. That makes it easy to adjust your distance in a flash, which is great for morning runs when my ability to initially get out there is less predictable.

As usual, it was totally great to be out in the woods running around. I kept looping a man who was walking his dog off leash. Each time I'd pass, we'd say hello and he'd call his dog so she wouldn't follow. The third time, I stopped to say hello and pat Kiki (the dog, not the man). I happened to stop on a fairly sharp incline, and that is when I learned that Kiki is a leaner. A 90 pound leaner, who rested all of her weight on my legs as I stood there and patted her thick fur. She was on the uphill side, meaning I had to use some strength to hold her (and me) upright.

Does that count as crosstraining?

At the top of the hill on the trail stands the Weston Observatory, which is usually closed off via a tall iron fence. The last few times I have been there, I've noticed a truck parked nearby, with contruction equipment. Nothing big, just ladders and some wood. This time around, I saw the truck during my first loop, and then saw the truck was gone when I got back.

And the gate was open.

Not wanting to miss what may be my only opportunity to see the inside of the obseratory, I walked through the gate, through the open door (which, like the gate, is generally locked), and started up the stairs.

What I learned is that it is exceedingly dark in there.

I didn't know when the truck was coming back, so I stopped midway and headed back down. The view from the base of the observatory is really nice, so I wonder how much better it gets if you climb up a 60 foot tall tower of NH granite. I bet it's pretty cool.

Mornings like that make Manchester an ok place to live.