See Sarah Run

I’ve had a couple of upbeat blog posts as I try to navigate this injury. I try to keep upbeat about it, partly because who wants to read a bunch of downer info and partly to keep myself going. But you know what? Sometimes I’m angry. I’m totally fucking pissed. The rage inside me about this is so hot I’m sometimes afraid to reach inside myself and touch it. I could scream and rip the skin of people’s faces, that’s how mad I can be. I could drive right into one of these snow banks.

I am trying to do something here, something important to myself. I have made a lot of sacrifices for my dream of running faster, getting better. I get up early. I run when the weather is unpleasant. I say no to cake and even croissants and sometimes even to ice cream. I do not lack for motivation.

Despite these things I have not run outside since December 7^th and I have not run well since November 2^nd. I work hard at my job. I work hard as a parent. I take care of things, even boring things. I generally remember to feed the cats and I always remember to pay the babysitter. I keep track of a million details of life for myself and for my children.

What I want in return is the chance to work hard and see results. That is all. I am not expecting this to be easy, though it might turn out to be fun. I don’t need the Rise and Shine video. I need this body to heal and do what it is supposed to do. So, if you mention you’re having trouble getting out the door because it’s cold, you’re tired, you’re not in the mood and your mojo is AWOL, well, I might tell you to get your ass in gear. I’ll try to do it politely.

It’s been a week full of crazy ups and downs so I thought I would just try to capture some of it in a blog post. The insanity started last Sunday evening. We had gone to West Hartford for dinner at a friend’s house, which was fantastic. But, the snow was coming down even on the way up there and the drive back was one of the most treacherous of my life! Route 9 had not been plowed and we had at least 4-5 inches on the ground. The windshield wipers froze up. I spent the whole drive crouched down peering through the one little strip of clear windshield available. Yikes. I would post a picture of the snow, but I’m sick of looking at it.

I suspect that hour (yes, drive took nearly an hour!) of tense crouching came back to haunt me the next morning when I hopped on the treadmill. I was hoping to run off some stress because Rose was scheduled for surgery on Monday. Just ear tubes in and adenoids out, but of course, any time your kid has surgery, it’s pretty worrisome. Instead of a glorious 20 minutes (I’m up to 20 minutes!!) of running, it was 20 minutes of terribleness. Pretty much the whole run was awful. I stopped at 10 minutes and gave myself a mental talking to, but it didn’t help. At about 18 minutes, I started to feel it in my butt, the injury flaring up. Damn!

Thank goodness her surgery went much better than my run. They are wonderful with kids at Children’s Medical in Hartford. She even got to drive a Barbie jeep on her way to the ER.

Still, surgery is surgery and she declared upon waking up “I never want to come back to this place ever!” Can’t say that I blame her and let’s hope her wish come true. Poor girl caught a cold that delayed her return to school, but otherwise, she’s doing great.

The bad run freaked me out a little, but it came with a huge dose of perspective as well. First, with surgery on the agenda for Monday, it was hard to get too worked up about running one way or another. I was so grateful everything went well, I really couldn’t find the energy to get too worked up about a bad run. Second, I think the bad run illustrates so clearly something I often forget. Stress is stress. The horrible drive plus the impending surgery was probably just enough to send me over the edge. Physically and mentally, I was done before I even started that run. Third, bad runs happen to everyone at any time. Just because I still sort of feel like an addict and every five minutes on the treadmill is like a little nugget of crack doesn’t mean it isn’t going to suck every now and then. Monday’s run sucked.

Wednesday I ran 10 minutes at physical therapy and everything was fine. Adding to the week’s weirdness, I went to Boston for a conference on Thursday. I was a little worried about the drive, which tends to irritate my butt, but no problems. My presentation at the conference went well – I occasionally talk about European politics, instead of running, just for a change of pace. They have even more snow in Boston than we do. I didn’t take any pictures of their snow either. I did run 20 minutes Thursday evening on the treadmill at home and it was fine.

In a week full of crazy, Friday night might have been the craziest. A couple of weeks ago, Snarky Girl sent me a strange text asking how I felt about trivia and roller derby. Teacher Runner got a similar text a few days later. Somehow we ended up part of a roller derby team for a trivia derby – GO Killer Bees! The Killer Bees did not turn out to be stars at answering trivia questions, but we won the award for most team spirit!!!

   How could we go wrong with Loose Lips Lisa?

   Jammin’ Jen and Loose Lips Lisa show the library who is boss!

I had to be Professor “Knock Down” for the night – Family Function!

The Killer Bees!

Finally, Saturday morning the Killer Bees put on our gym togs and hit the ‘mill. For 30 minutes. Including me! This is the longest I’ve run since declaring myself seriously injured on December 7^th. I felt so completely fine. My butt felt fine. My back felt mine. My legs felt fine. Heart and head felt much, much better than fine. Not sure if it’s the fake tattoos, or the glitter, or all that physical therapy, but who cares – I’m starting to feel like this comeback is going to stick!

The Girls on the ‘Mills!

This includes warm up and cool down. Thirty consecutive minutes of running!

Of course, Sunday we were up to further hijinks, but that gets a separate post.

Thirteen and a half months. That’s how long it took between inspiration and achievement.

The inspiration came from Ted Spiker, founder of the Sub-30 Club. After his Ironman, Ted was looking for some “smaller” goals and doing one pull-up was on his list. A lot of people in Sub-30 got excited about his 20,000 push-up goal, but I really did not want to count that high. One pull-up sounded more manageable, at least from a counting perspective.

First, I had to understand my target. Some of my earliest conversations with Coach Cowboy consisted of me asking what the heck is the difference between a chin-up and a pull-up anyway? It turns out a chin-up is palms toward you and a pull-up is palms away. They use slightly different muscles, but seemed equivalently bad-assed to me and I was more comfortable in chin-up position so I decided to go for that. Easy Going Trainer showed me how to use resistance bands to do assisted chin-ups. Sort of like magic, my chin was suddenly up and over the bar.

Next, I needed a plan of attack. I spent some time googling things like “How to do a chin-up” and “Can women do chin-ups?” and came across some good YouTube videos and also a lovely controversy in the New York Times about women and pull-ups. It turns out, Women Can’t Do Pull-Ups. Except of course, we can, especially if people would quit telling us we can’t. Also, if you want to learn to do a pull-up, it helps an awful lot to practice doing pull-ups. A lot of this information was kind of overwhelming at first, but it did help to look at lots of videos of women doing pull-ups and chin-ups. I knew I couldn’t manage anything complicated like 60 second hangs on Tuesdays and using the TRX straps on Thursdays. I just decided to practice chin-ups every time I entered the gym. I did them after every circuits class and every personal training session. I’m usually in the gym three times a week and if I missed five post-workout chin-up sessions in 2014, I’d be surprised. I usually do three sets of stuff in the gym so I did three sets of chin-ups too, using whatever resistance band was currently appropriate.

In June I started sometimes writing down chin-up numbers in my workout log and I wish I had started sooner and been more regular about it. In July I started training with Tough Guy and we start every session with chin-ups. Keeping track and trying to beat my number from the previous week was a really helpful technique. Tough Guy helped me get more organized about the whole project and I started to make faster progress.

Of course, I roped my friends into doing chin-ups with me. Basically everyone who went with me to the gym also did chin-ups after class, including my son who took an obstacle course training class there last fall. My own chin-ups were horrible when he was there because I was constantly worried he was going to break something and I did have to jump down once to grab a big mirror he had knocked over! By late 2014, my best gym buddies had quit coming very often and I did a lot of chin-ups alone.

The resistance bands were a key tool for me. You can use more than one band, or different colors, or put the band on your knee (harder) or your foot (easier). The idea was that once I could do three sets of 12, it was time to progress to a different band or a different position. On December 16^th, 2014, I did 12 chin-ups easily with the purple band on my foot and progressed to one purple band on my knee. That was the last stage before a real chin-up. Then, in mid-January, the Maestro, who was treating me for a hip issue, ordered two weeks of no activity at all, including chin-ups. It was tough to have a set-back when I was so close, but I picked the chin-ups back up as soon as I could. I also finally got a chin-up bar at home so even though I wasn’t going to the gym as much, I could still do them.

On February 21, I was procrastinating a bit and just walked over to the bar to see where things stood. Put my hands on it and gave a pull and up I went! I was as surprised as could be and thank goodness I could do another one because no one even caught that first one on video! I even did a third one and later in the day a fourth and a fifth and a sixth! #chinupaddiction! Every single time I do one, with the band or without, it’s like some kind of magic trick. Much to my surprise, I start levitating. It’s amazing and fun and powerful. If you think you can’t do a chin-up (or a pull-up, if you’d rather), frankly, I think you’re wrong. You just can’t do a chin-up yet. If you want to, get after it.

Downloads:
http://kevinwiliarty.com/openvideo/first-chinup.mp4
http://kevinwiliarty.com/openvideo/first-chinup.webm
http://kevinwiliarty.com/openvideo/first-chinup.ogv

I’m not doing much running these days, but I am doing a lot of physical therapy. Running is more fun, obviously, but the PT has to happen to get back to running. So a few weeks ago, I asked my friends at the Sub-30 FaceBook group to give me some suggestions for music. I said I was particularly interested in songs that had helped people get through a recovery process. Here’s the list of the suggestions I got. I know some of the stories behind these songs, but I’d love to hear more. How did music inspire you to get through a rough patch? Is there a song you’d like to add? Share your song’s story if you want to.

Til I Collapse- Eminem
Are You Ready? – AC/DC
S & M – Rihanna
Theme from Rocky
Eye of the Tiger – Survivor
Don’t Stop Believing – Journey
I Am the Best – 2NE1
Ready for Battle – District 78
Tubthumping – Chumbawumba
Bounce – Bon Jovi
Stronger – Kelly Clarkson
Going the Distance – Cake
Remember the Name – Fort Minor
The Climb – Miley Cyrus
Lose Yourself – Eminem
Baby’s Got Back – Sir Mix-A-Lot
Fine Again – Seether
I Own You – Shinedown
She’s Got Kick – Ben Harper
Get This Party Started – Pink
Iron Man – Black Sabbath
Gonna Be a Good Night – Black Eyed Peas
Ain’t Goin’ Down (Till the Sun Comes Up) – Garth Brooks
Rock This Country – Shania Twain
Save Yourself – Stabbing Westward
Theme from Bionic Woman TV show
We’re Not Gonna Take It – Twisted Sister
Back in the Saddle – Aerosmith
Take it to the Limit – The Eagles
Because We Believe – Andrea Boccelli
I Want It All – Queen
Ireland – Garth Brooks
No Time to Kill – Clint Black
Barracuda – Heart
Even if it Breaks Your Heart – Eli Young Band
Turn It On Again – Genesis
Ca Plane Pour Moi – Plastic Bertrand
Little Less Conversation – Elvis
Running On Empty – Jackson Browne
Burning Inside – Ministry
What Is Love? – Haddaway
Fabulous – Ryan
Let It Go – Idina Menzel
My Hero – Foo Fighters
Uptown Funk – Mark Ronson, featuring Bruno Mars
Hallelujah – Paramore
Good Day – Nappy Roots

One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, talks about writing to get to truth. I sometimes wonder if you can write to create the truth you want to have. It’s sometimes easier to share the sunshine and the triumphs than the hard stuff.

The sunshine is that I went to the Cardinal Masters Swimming program this past Saturday. I’m not even sure what prompted this move anymore, except that I seem to be surrounded by swim enthusiasts. Awesome Girl is constantly filling my head with swim workout information. Running While Mommy’s Nicole went from non-swimmer to half ironwoman last summer. But more than anything, the combination of Coach Cowboy sending interesting swim workouts and Teacher Runner being able to show me how to do them has made for some pretty good fun in the pool. Being sidelined from running has made me re-evaluate my goals for this year and Trying Different Stuff has skyrocketed to the top of the list (more on this later). A Masters Swimming group certainly fits under Trying Different Stuff.

When I received the standard email from the swim coach [We’ll teach anyone in the Wesleyan community how to swim!!] instead of deleting it, I emailed back and asked if they could help someone who knows how to swim learn to swim better. He said sure, but why not try the masters group. A few emails later and I had plans for Saturday morning at 6:45am.

I am willing to undertake these adventures alone, but I far prefer having company so I started recruitment efforts. I got one solid commitment from Ms. Fixit, a friend I really like but don’t see much. We ran a half marathon together a couple of years ago and she’s a great swimmer. We met the coach in the gym lobby and headed down to the pool:

First impressions? The pool is really deep! And humungous! And beautiful! And deep, did I mention that? Yes, I have taught at this college for almost 13 years and never once been to the pool. The coach was nice and asked about our swim history. I said mine was very short: I took swimming lessons in elementary school and learned how to swim. That’s the end of the story. Ok, I’ve also been swimming a few times when managing a running injury, but that is truly the end of the story.

While we were getting oriented, Mr. Snarky Girl showed up! Snarky Girl really does not like to swim and she’s sent him in her place before, but it was still a great surprise. So, Ms. Fixit, Mr. Snarky Girl and I formed our own little newbie group. Thank goodness, because then the coach handed out a paper with the workout on it:

Not only is it unlikely I can do that, I can’t even read that. I did figure out how to stick the paper to the side of the pool, a really cool trick all the real swimmers seemed to know. The coach must have thought I was a total goofball as I asked over and over again, wait, how many times back and forth is that? Or, wait, you mean we are kicking without a kickboard? Won’t we sink? But, with a good deal of patience and a lot of guidance, we got through it. What did I actually do?

450 freestyle
50 kick

2×50 25 easy/25fast
2×100 mostly freestyle but throw in breaststroke or backstroke occasionally
3×150 with pull buoy, 1 and 3 faster

150 build
50 easy
100 fast
50 easy
75 just survive at this point
50 easy
25 sprint
50 easy

8×25 odds kick, evens swim

100 cool down

total: 2100

How was it? Pretty fun actually. I’m going back on Tuesday and I’m going to try hard to drag Teacher Runner with me.

The sad part? I’m still not running. It’s been two months now. I wonder if I will even remember how to run. I wonder if it will feel like starting from zero, despite my best efforts to stay in shape in other ways. I wonder if a year from now I’ll be a great swimmer, but still not running. Going to the masters group was fun, but it felt like one more piece of acknowledgement that this injury is taking a long time. I’ve been a little more active the past few days and probably as a result, I’m getting those twinge-y feelings in my hip again. It’s hard to stay upbeat. In other news, Awesome Girl did a charity bike ride in honor of a sub 30 member who is fighting cancer and Newbie Runner’s mother-in-law passed away Saturday morning. It was a weekend of carrying on with a bit of a heavy heart.

So, here is another boring-ass update about Professor Badass’s sorry ass. After two weeks of No Activity At All (SHOOT ME NOW), the week of January 19^th was back to little bits of running on the treadmill. One and a half miles on Monday under the Maestro’s supervision. Two whole miles at home on Wednesday. Another one and a half on Friday. The glorious feeling of running again that I wrote about last time. YEAH! But then, bam. Saturday was Rose’s birthday party and I was up and down and cleaning the house for hours and then supervising a lively collection of little girls. Sunday morning I woke up with a stiff sore ass. I tried running anyway, of course, but no go. Even I am not a fool, at least not all the time. During the week, I felt the injury but in a sort of game of “One of these things is not like the other” played with my butt cheeks. A week ago Sunday was much clearer. This hurts. Not searing pain but enough that I knew I had better stop. It hurt the rest of the day. Lots more crying. Lots more anger. This injury stuff is not for the faint of heart, I tell you. That tiny bit of running seems to have done the maximal amount of harm for the least amount of good. I had a significant relapse without working out enough to maintain any fitness or keep the crazy at bay (just ask my family or Coach Cowboy).

Last week was all about back to the drawing board. By the time I saw the Maestro Monday afternoon, I already had two appointments with other physical therapists lined up for later in the week. I felt a little guilty about “cheating” on the Maestro, but when I saw him on Monday his number one suggestion was getting some new eyes on this problem. We also agreed I should stop running but resume other activities.

So, Thursday I met with a new physical therapist, Craig Zettergren, and I have a new diagnosis! Craig says I don’t have tendonitis of the butt at all! Instead, I have a bulging disc in my back at L4. I’m taking this as mostly good news. Wrong diagnosis meant wrong treatment plan. Craig uses something called the McKenzie method and he says he’ll have me out on the road again in 4-6 weeks!

Not one to leave well enough alone, I also met with Lindsay Holmes on Friday. Lindsay is not only a physical therapist, but also Wesleyan’s cross-country coach. She agreed with Craig’s diagnosis. We had an amazing conversation about running. She’s run 15 marathons, including NYC at least once and Boston a few times. She didn’t reveal her marathon PR but did mention that she ran Boston last year “undertrained” in about 3:13. Yikes. She was incredibly down-to-earth and generous with her time and knowledge and seemed genuinely interested in our little running gang.

The new diagnosis means a new direction. The plan for now is to see Craig twice a week for the next three weeks and see how it goes. Furthermore, since I don’t have tendonitis of the butt after all, I can do a lot more. I was back at the gym with Tough Guy on Wednesday for upper body and core. Spin class on Thursday. Swimming on Friday and Saturday. Hooray! I worked out with Teacher Runner three days in a row. Yeah!

Now it’s all about being patient and seeing if this new direction works. I’m trying to keep my mind away from the question of how long it took to figure this out, and what might have been had I figured it out sooner. I’m focusing instead on the positive progress that will hopefully be happening from here on out.

Everyone says you learn a lot from being injured and can come back stronger. I don’t know if that is true or not for me yet. Mostly I have learned to value each and every day, each and every healthy step.

Before this week, I hadn’t really run since December 7^th. Professor Badass has had a sad ass, in other words tendonitis of the gluteus medius and minimus. Except for a Christmas Eve walk with my dad, I’ve been sidelined since then. Because improvement was so slow, two weeks ago I stopped all activity entirely. No swimming, no spinning, no gym, no nothing. It’s been pretty awful.

But, now I’m starting to come back. I ran 1.5 miles under the Maestro’s supervision on Monday. And Wednesday, 20 glorious minutes on the treadmill at a 12 min/mile pace. That is sloooooow for me, but still. It’s running, not walking. Running is awesome. It’s still awesome, even though I haven’t done it in awhile. It’s still awesome, even though it’s on a treadmill and not outside. Heck with a temperature of 19 degrees and a stiff breeze and a lot of dark at 6am, I’m not even complaining (much) about the treadmill.

I’m thrilled to report that this didn’t feel hard at all. I wasn’t gasping for breath or wishing to for a walk break. I also didn’t feel any of the telltale pinching deep in the butt cheek that signaled the beginning of this injury saga. What did I feel? I felt that fire that burns deep inside me that wants to run faster, harder, better (but yes, I stuck to 5.0 on the treadmill). I came to this sport later in life, but when I fell for running, I fell hard and that love is still there. Even this little 20 minute treadmill outing gave me a glimpse of the power and joy that running can bring. The incredible surge of determination that sometimes comes to me when running. Right now, I am channeling that fire and determination and passion into getting this damn butt healed rather than running faster, but it was sure nice to find out that it’s still there.

I always listen to music on the treadmill so I also got re-visit some favorite tunes. Music evokes memories for lots of people, including me. I heard Taio Cruz’s song “Telling the World,” which for me is always about my daughter.

I’m telling the world
That I’ve found a girl
The one I can live for
The one who deserves

For awhile I started every run with that song. Rose has some gross and fine motor delays and various other issues she and we have to deal with. My love for her is fierce like a wild animal and running gives me the power to fight every battle that she might need fought for her.

I also heard Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger.” I know a lot of people run to this song, including one of my running heroines, Sarah Bowen Shea of Another Mother Runner. This morning it brought me memories of my early runs because this was on my playlist for a long time right after I finished the Couch to 5K program. I remember running that initial 5K loop around the neighborhood over and over again, never really even dreaming that one day I might go a lot farther. It’s the only song I submitted for the shared playlist the first time I did Ragnar so I also remember the Albany Running Mamas blasting it for me from the van as I ran up a huge hill during my last leg.

I’ve got different playlists set up for different race distances, but no way was I going to listen to one of these on my first little treadmill jaunt. So instead this was “playlist #4” which is sort of a storage area for songs I like enough to leave on the iPod but that haven’t ended up anywhere else. I don’t listen to “playlist #4” very much so I was surprised to hear Neil Diamond’s “Walk On Water.” I’m no longer ashamed to confess to being a huge Neil Diamond fan, but I don’t run to his music much at all. This song is different though. I discovered it the first time I ran 11 miles solo, which was June 2013. I was training for my first marathon, but on vacation on Cape Cod, so running alone. 11 miles was way, way farther than I had ever gone alone before and I figured Neil would at least keep me company. It ended up being a spectacular run, but most of the music got shoved off the iPod at some point. Not this one though. Not with lyrics like these:

Light de light, we got mornin’,
Mornin’ makes another day
Glory sight, got de dawnin’
Lordy, light the night away

“Walk On Water” stuck around and landed on the playlist for the Hartford marathon, where it came on during the mile I dedicated to Claire, daughter of my friends Mark and Charlotte. Claire was born January 2013 and Charlotte discovered she had breast cancer just a couple of months later. They all got a mile from me during Hartford 2013 and this song became forever linked with Claire in my mind. I’ve hardly listened to the song since fall 2013, but I just saw Mark last week when I was in New Orleans for a conference. Their whole family is healthy and leaving behind a dark period. Of course cancer is not at all comparable to a ridiculous butt injury, but I still started crying when this song came through my ear buds Wednesday morning. Because thank God, Charlotte is ok. Because I know in my heart that Claire is a child who will bring light wherever she goes. Because I finally got to run again, and that act of one foot in front of another is for some reason so powerful and maybe I am starting to be on my way back to it.

When I consulted with the Maestro later in the day on Wednesday, I found out that my standard running warm-up is full of glute stuff and therefore a huge no-no. Oops. Crap. To be safe, I went back to doing nothing on Thursday, but today is Friday and I got another 15 minutes on the treadmill. Plus a gym workout later today! Slowly, slowly inching my way back.

I am dealing with my not-so-lovely tendinitis of the butt and I have not run in over four weeks. It’s not getting better the way we would like it to. This week, the Maestro, my physical therapist, recommended a week of no activity at all. I’m struggling, big time.

Claiming titles matters. It’s a question of identity. That’s why this injury is so upsetting to me. It feels like my identity is at stake here. Maybe it isn’t really, but that is what it feels like. I didn’t used to be an athlete or a runner or anything except someone who sometimes went to aerobics class to avoid becoming fat. I lived a mental life, not a physical one, and that was actually ok with me. When I was growing up, most of the people I respected were intellectuals. We generally regarded athletes – meaning high school and college athletes – as probably inadequately smart to handle doing something “real”. Obviously that was bullshit, but I didn’t have anyone telling me different.

I did some recreational biking and rowing in college and I loved both of those sports, but neither of them stuck long enough to get integrated into my life. Dipping my toes in was tremendous, but not life changing.

Running was different. At first it was just a convenient way to avoid putting on weight and to keep a tendency toward high blood pressure under control. I finished the Couch to 5K program and did my first 5K, alone, in August 2009. I didn’t race again until the Manchester Road Race in November 2010. In between those races, though, I kept running and my identity started to shift, just a little bit. Over the course of the next year, it changed a lot more.

My entire friendship group changed. What I did with my free time changed. I got a subscription to Runner’s World and Running Times and read them cover-to-cover every month. I got a fancy running watch. My wardrobe started to change, too. I had to buy clothes to run in, and then winter clothes and a jacket and a hat and gloves. And then pretty shirts and race shirts, and fancy socks. The regular clothes in the dresser lost more and more space to the running gear.

People have a hard time claiming the title runner. I bet if you asked my online running group, the Sub-30 Club on FaceBook, how many of them felt like they could say comfortably “I am a runner” with no qualms at all, a bunch of folks would feel like they couldn’t do it. Wrong body type, not fast enough, not enough miles, never race, they would say. To me, a runner is someone who runs. Period. I remember my mom once saying that she bought something for me at the running store and the clerk asked how many miles a week I ran. My mom knew it was about 25 and the clerk said, “oh, she’s a real runner then.” I was kind of pissed because no salesclerk gets to decide whether I am a runner or whether anyone is a runner. A runner is someone who runs. But, to be totally honest, I am not sure I knew I was a runner until that salesclerk thought he had the right to decide.

By November 2011, I was a runner. A baby runner and still a little uncomfortable with the term, but a runner nonetheless. From 2011 to 2013, I had two glorious years of transformation. I tried everything I could. Ragnar, half marathons, lots of new running friends, running four times a week, long runs on the weekend.

It took one marathon to become a marathoner. Hartford. October 2013. But also, of course, the summer of training leading up to the race. Because if a runner is someone who runs, a marathoner is someone who runs marathons. So, I became a marathoner. I found marathoner an easier title to accept than runner, because it’s so much more measurable. And marathoner, well, that involves long runs and ice baths and “fueling” instead of eating and lots more planning and tons of running, and I loved it all.

But an athlete? I’m still not comfortable with that title. How can I be an athlete? I’m a professor. I would be interested to hear Ted Spiker’s thoughts on that actually. That is partly why I am Professor Badass. To remember both parts.

I can hardly even write about the idea of being an athlete. After Hartford, I got a lot more serious about running. I started going to the gym. Everything I had been doing got amped up. Gym time. Speed work. Better training plan. Chin up challenge. Working with a personal trainer. Working out every day instead of four days a week. Daily check-ins with Chris and Nicole, my virtual training partners. Heavier race schedule. But an athlete? Me? Athlete is an identity in pretty serious conflict with the ones I am used to: Professor. Bookworm. Nerd, even.

But now athlete means something different to me than it used to and it turns out, I would like to be one. It’s a physical project. It’s about competition, even if that competition is with yourself. This sounds tacky as hell, but it’s about glory. It’s about rising above the everydayness of life to do something amazing. And actually it doesn’t really matter if that something amazing is at the Olympics or two kids duking it out to not be last in a middle school cross-country meet.

How long have I been a runner? Since May 31, 2009. First run of Couch to 5K program.

How long have I been a marathoner? Since October 12, 2013. First marathon completed.

How long have I been an athlete? I’m not sure. Am I one now? Maybe since November 2013?

Thank God for my gym, Innovative Fitness and Wellness. Because there are “real athletes” there for sure, but there are also a whole lot of other people there too. People on some kind of slope between not-(yet)-athlete and athlete. People proving that “athlete” isn’t a title you have to be born with. You can earn it. Which was news to me. But if a runner is someone who runs and a marathoner is someone who runs marathons, what is an athlete? What do you have to do in order to claim that title? I don’t know.

As a professor, I know a lot about college athletes. College athletes are on the college team. They always wear sweats to class, also the girls. They wear their baseball hats backwards, regardless of sport. They are actually sometimes excellent and sometimes horrible students. They often hang out together and I will run into them at the Wesleyan gym if I go there, so I usually don’t.

What are post-college athletes? I don’t know. People who have been on teams before? Someone like Snarky Girl, who can just sort of do any physical task she wants to? Someone like Teacher Runner, who will simply settle into an assigned workout without asking a bunch of questions? Someone like Tough Guy Trainer, who has amazing muscles and can jump up on a huge box or even a moving tire? Me?

Maybe me, when I am at the gym three times a week, even if my friends can’t come. Maybe me, when I organize a running crew to replace my favorite but pregnant training partner, Fast Friend. Almost certainly me, when I grumble, but switch to swimming or biking in order to stay active when I can’t run.

Me, when I’m on the couch for a week doing nothing? I don’t know. Just a week isn’t really a problem. Two weeks, three weeks, when does sloth return?

I have made a really big change in my life. But I didn’t make it all that long ago. I don’t know if it is permanent yet or not. I hope it is. Maybe getting past this injury will show me one way or another. I have a lot more at stake now and I think that is why I am finding this so hard.

What do you think? What does it mean to be an athlete?

“Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?” – Seasons of Love, from Rent

How do you measure a year? If you are a runner, maybe in total miles run. For me, that is 1248. Nearly 100 miles more than last year’s 1155.

Or possibly in races. Here are mine from 2014. I’ve included times because I am working hard at getting faster and because times matter to me.

1. 1/1/14: Bacon Academy Resolution Run. 5K. 26:14. PR! I ran this after staying up until 1am drinking champagne the night before. What can I say? Fast Friend ran it with me and yelled at me the whole way. The woman has powerful lungs.
2. 2/22/14: Colchester Half marathon. 2:04:33. PR! One of my favorite races of the year. I had been nervous about this race because you have to train through rough conditions to run a half marathon in February in Connecticut. Race day was gorgeous and I had one of the greatest races ever. Felt like I was flying and the winter scenery was straight out of Currier and Ives.
3. 3/9/14: Celebrate Life Half Marathon. 2:06:07. It was cold and snowing. It was hillier than expected. It was a brutal-strugglefest, to be honest. But, it did involve getting to see the Albany Running Mamas and drinking wine with Tiny Dynamo on the bus after the race, so there were some positives about this one.
4. 4/6/14: Middletown Half Marathon. 1:59:15 PR! This was a fabulous race. All my local running friends ran and lots of us got PRs. It was the inaugural race and so well put together. Lots of famous Wesleyan running alums came to the race. My dad ran the four miler and we had a big party afterwards. A great day! [Also, note absolutely enormous PR! This is the first race working with Coach Cowboy!]
5. 5/4/14: Providence Marathon. 4:33:03. PR! Another huge PR. I ran the Providence Marathon about 54 minutes faster than I ran Hartford in fall 2013. Fast Friend and I trained all spring to run this together. When she couldn’t run it with me, Snarky Girl jumped in to keep me company instead. I am so lucky to have these amazing women in my life.
6. 5/26/14: East Hartford Memorial Mile. 7:19. PR! I did this as part of the Fit for Summer challenge at my gym, Innovative Fitness and Wellness. Through a massive comedy of errors, our group barely found the starting line in time. But this was a fun race and I got to run with Charles, one of my favorite gym buddies.
7. 7/23/14: Not Your Typical 5K, Middletown. 28:03. Course PR. This is a tough course and the race is in the evening so it’s always wicked hot. Tons of running friends do this race so it’s a lot of fun. Of course that 3 seconds is going to make me crazy. The race did yield the second photo here, which has gotten quite a bit of its own mileage.
8. 8/17/14: Bristol Half Marathon. 2:04:44. A half marathon in Connecticut in August? Isn’t that a terrible idea? To make it worse, how about a course that is uphill from mile 7 to mile 10.5? It does have fire fighters serving pancakes at the end, but I’m still not sure I ever want to run up that hill again.
9. 9/14/14: Surftown Half Marathon. 1:59:06. PR! This race was a mixed bag this year. Surftown is a gorgeous course. I had friends to run with and a great brunch with Snarky Girl and Nicole from Running While Mommy afterwards. But the hip cramps that bothered me at the Hartford Marathon came back and destroyed my hopes for a much bigger PR. I will be back next year, Surftown!
10. 9/26-27/14: Adirondacks Ragnar. [6.23 miles in 57:48; 8 miles in 1:20:27; 4 miles in 40:15]. Fast Friend joined the Albany Running Mamas for an incredible weekend in upstate New York. Ragnar is so much more than a race. You kind of have to experience the insanity to understand it.
11. 10/18/14: Runner’s World Festival. 5K. 26:24; 10K. 57:32 PR! The Sub-30 Club had a huge get together at the Runner’s World Festival in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. I am happy about the running I did here, but even happier about getting to meet a bunch of the group in person. We were way too big a group to name everyone individually, but it was especially awesome to meet the Godfather himself, Ted Spiker. I also got to meet Coach Cowboy in person, though I didn’t run with him because he’s crazy fast. I also loved meeting Lonnie St. John, Mama Canning, Larry Wapnitsky, The Donohue and so many others!                  
12. 10/19/14: Runner’s World Festival. Half Marathon. 2:05:30. I ran a good controlled race on a hilly beautiful course. I was not aiming to PR just two weeks before the NYC Marathon. Best part of the race was the first mile, which I ran with Coach Cowboy and TJ, oldest and youngest regular posters in Sub-30. Running is a sport that unites across generations and geography and Runner’s World was the place to experience the amazing running community that weekend.
13. 11/2/14: NYC Marathon! 4:31:28. PR! I’ve already written tons about NYC. This was my goal race of the fall. It’s completely true that running up the Verrazano Narrows bridge is an experience like no other. I’m SO grateful for my outstanding spectators the Incredible Mervus, Snarky Girl, and Mr. Snarky Girl.
14. 12/24/14: Sherri Condon’s Annual Christmas Eve Fun Run/Walk. 1.9 miles. 32:34. Of course, it was a bit heartbreaking to be a walker instead of a runner at this annual event. I certainly hoped to end 2014 with some great runs instead of physical therapy and an awful lot of swimming. But, I got to walk 2 miles with my dad on Christmas Eve and then have breakfast with some local running folks before starting the holiday celebrations. Life is good.

That last event is a very informal one that my friend Sherri [a.k.a. Early Bird] organizes. But if I count that, I have 14 events in 2014, so you bet I’m counting it.

I PR’d 8 times at 5 different distances. Okay, I had never raced a mile or a 10K before, but I’m still counting those. I’m most proud of whittling down my marathon time to 4:31:28 and my half marathon time to 1:59:06. My “gold” goal for the marathon was 4:30, so that is darn close. My half marathon goal was sub-2, which I did twice.

7-4-5: That is the number of chin-ups I did on my last chin-up attempt of 2014. Those are with one purple assistance band around my knee. One of my goals for 2014 was a single real chin-up (thank you, Ted Spiker, for the inspiration for this project!). I’m not there yet, but I’m close.

Also to be counted, 2 injuries. Patella tendonitis in the spring and tendonitis of the butt in December. I have no desire to count the number of weeks of running missed because of those. It’s not terrible, but I wish it were zero. Thank goodness for the Maestro. He’s the best physical therapist ever and he keeps me and my crew on the roads.

Other important events of 2014:

Starting to work with Coach Cowboy. Having a coach has helped me get a lot more organized about my running. He’s also helping me dream bigger, which is really fun. He introduced me to his insane hill workout, which I really like. He gives me tempo runs to do, which I truly do not care for. He’s saving my fitness and my sanity with plenty of swim workouts while I’m on my little running hiatus.

Running 20 miles in Spain, mostly alone, in the spring. Then running 20 miles completely alone in the fall. I never dreamed I could do that, and yet I did.

Moving house in late August. I was able mostly to train through the move with a couple of runs missed and one truly horrific long run aborted at 13 miles. I’m very grateful for the friend who drove me home! The new location means new running routes, many of which I’m still discovering. We have definitely moved to a hillier part of town and only five houses down from Snarky Girl. Yeah!

The evolution of running partners and friendships. Fast Friend’s pregnancy has meant that my Best Running Friend has been a more sporadic partner for the latter half of 2014. Snarky Girl jumped in and ran the Providence marathon with me and continues to be a fantastic running buddy, especially now that we live so near each other. I put together a small running group over the summer and into the fall that was incredibly fun. And now Teacher Runner is turning out to be a great training partner and friend. The Sub-30 Club on Facebook is an amazing source of inspiration, fun, advice and friendship. I exchanged texts with Chris and Nicole of Sub-30 every single day of 2014 and I think they heard about every workout I did, as well as how sometimes you need Thursday’s wine on Tuesday, what I’m cooking for dinner, and whether my kids are making me crazy or proud.  In 2011, one of my goals was to do something social other than run with my running friends. No matter how fast or how far I run, it’s the people running brings into your life that makes this all worthwhile.

Once we entered the corrals, there was not long to wait. We started up the bridge and they played the Star Spangled Banner over the loud speakers. Then, before we knew what to expect, the cannon went off! Our wave had started! They played Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York over the loud speakers and for me, the most magical moment of the race started. Yes, we were really doing this. Right up that famous bridge to that famous song and then: All the runners started singing along! It was incredible! “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere, it’s up to you! New York, New York!” Right up the bridge, and finally we could start running!

I didn’t take that picture, but that’s pretty much what it looked like. Very crowded and very wonderful!

My plan was to take it easy for the first mile up the bridge. Apparently burning out here can have lasting consequences later in the race. I train on a lot of hills, though, and I didn’t find the incline all that challenging. The wind was another matter. It was really crazy. Mostly it was a “cross-breeze” but one strong enough that it could blow my left foot right into my right foot. People started shedding clothes now and even though they were being careful, stuff was just flying everywhere. Lots of people also stopped to take pictures so everyone got kind of crammed up together. But it wasn’t long before we got to the top of the bridge and started down the other side. By the end of that second mile I was warm enough to drop my sweatshirt. Down the ramp and around and into Brooklyn!

One of the pieces of advice I had read about this race said “Patience through Brooklyn” and that was a great motto. These were some of the best miles of the race for me. The spectators were fantastic. I was getting a feel for the race. It was very, very crowded, but I was able to find some space and I hit my planned pace of 9:55/mile or faster for the first 8 miles or so. I had my name on my shirt and lots of people were cheering “Sarah! Sarah! Go Sarah!” Incredible. Tiny Dynamo, my friend from Albany who ran NYC last year, told me she wasted a lot of energy high-fiving people in Brooklyn so I limited myself to a big smile and a thumbs-up when I heard my name. Really, before I knew it, we were at mile 6.5 and I had spectators waiting at mile 8.

I was a little unsure of the corner where my gang would be so I started looking too early. Then I managed to run right past them. They were screaming Sarah! Sarah! Sarah! But so was half of NYC it seemed! Incredible Mervus and Snarky Girl had to chase me down to find me! They said I was doing great, gave me some water and sent me on my way with a “see you a mile 18!” Fantastic. Spectating this race on this day was an enormous challenge, I’m sure. The wind and cold were pretty brutal. My little gang of Incredible Mervus, Snarky Girl and Mr. Snarky Girl managed to see me three times on the course and I so appreciated them chasing me all around New York

Now I got a little more serious about the race, though actually my splits through here are slower. By “serious” I mean, I put my sunglasses down and turned on my music to focus on running. I spent more time in the middle of the road, though perhaps I should have stuck to the less crowded edges? In any case, there was still quite a lot of Brooklyn to go. I saw the Bishop Loughlin Memorial high school band that plays the theme from Rocky for several hours consecutively. I saw the Orthodox Jewish neighborhood I had read about. I saw a full gospel choir singing outside on the steps of the church. I saw the miles on my watch ticking away at a good clip. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, finally the halfway mark right at 2:13.

The halfway mark was time for me to review race expectations. I had hoped to be at the half at 2:10 or even 2:08. I had the legs for that, but the crowds were really cutting into my pace. A perfectly evenly split race with a 2:13 half is a 4:26 marathon. I knew even splitting was unlikely and negative splitting probably impossible. That meant my original goal of 4:20 was out of reach, but 4:30 was possible. Coach Cowboy had said I might need to adapt to the conditions of the day. We had been talking about the wind, but it was really the crowded course that was the issue. I did not want to throw time goals out the window so I decided to try to get back what I could, but also to not have my heart broken that this wasn’t going to be as fast a race as I had hoped.

I knew The Donohue of Sub-30 would be waiting for me somewhere after mile 14. Even though I was looking for him, when I heard “Hey! Professor Badass!” all I could think was, who in the world knows me by that name here? Of course there was The Donohue himself, all decked out in his Sub-30 shirt and his hulk hands! His friend snapped a bunch of fabulous pictures and off I went.

Just after mile 15, the course crosses the Queensboro Bridge. This is supposed to be a lonely and tough spot on the course because there are no spectators allowed on the bridge. Actually, though, I couldn’t believe how fast this marathon was flying by. We were already at 15 miles? How did that happen? However, I slowed down a lot here. The road gets a lot narrower on the bridge and my splits dropped to just over 12 min/mile. This is where it might would have made a difference had I started with wave 3 instead of wave 4. I improved my marathon time by nearly an hour after I purchased the lottery ticket, but I never got around to updating my information with the NYRR. I did not realize how important that could be! At mile 15, many of my fellow runners were really struggling. There was lots of walking going on along that bridge and plenty of runners pulled off to the side to stretch. I admit in my brain I was saying “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Get out of the way people!” because I was still ready to run. But, we had a great view of the skyline. Some of the walkers were helping Achilles athletes. And I was able to remember that yes, I do want to run fast, but I am not the only one on this bridge. And even though this was a frustrating moment, I truly love running marathons and I was getting to run possibly the greatest marathon in the world and I just wasn’t going to waste time being unhappy about anything. My watch also lost connectivity here so I couldn’t see my pace, which was probably just as well. We got off that bridge, finally, and my next mile was 8:19! Ha! Take that, slow bridge people!

Now we were running up 1^st Avenue and I could count up the streets until 97^th where I was meeting my gang again. I hadn’t had anything to eat but Gu yet and I wanted a banana. I found my gang easily this time at the NW corner of 97^th and 1^st. [If you are going to run NYC and have people meet you along the route, you definitely need not just an intersection, but a particular corner of the intersection. Otherwise, you will really struggle to find each other. It is that crowded.] So, I slammed down that banana and a salt tab, and some water. I couldn’t get it all down fast enough because I knew I had some time pressure at this point.

I followed my standard long run fueling pattern, which is a Gu at mile 4 and every three miles after that. Above 15 miles, I try to figure out a way to get a banana or two. During my other marathons, I was hungrier and ate 2-3 bananas, but in NYC I only had one. I had Gu more or less at miles 4, 7, 10, and 13. Maybe 15. Then the banana at 18. Gu again at 23. I started to worry about my hip cramping up fairly early on so I added a salt tab with every Gu after mile 7. Taking the damn salt tabs out of the plastic bag and stuffing the bag back into my pocket seems to take forever so I would like a better system for that. I had thought I would drink every other mile, but I probably drank more than that. It’s hard to eat every third mile and drink every other mile, but also, I felt like with the wind, I was in danger of getting dehydrated so I just drank more. In my first marathon, I was very strict about only drinking water, but my stomach hasn’t been bothered yet (knock on wood!) so now I switch it up between water and Gatorade depending on what I feel like or even which part of the aid station is less congested. I feel like I fueled well for this race. Maybe I should have stopped for water less often because water stops were slow in NYC. On the other hand, I was worried about cramping and I know dehydration can cause that so maybe it was good I drank as much as I did. No way to know.

Back to the race. At this point, I had lost track of how far I had run. Sounds silly, but marathons can be kind of disorienting and since my watch had lost its connection, I really wasn’t sure where I was. I asked at the mile 19 water stop what mile we were at. The volunteers for this race were 100% amazing. So many of them yelled out “Go Sarah!” whenever I came in for water. Lots of people also riffed on my shirt “You’ve got to believe Sarah!” “We believe in you Sarah!” Incredible. If you run NYC, PUT YOUR NAME ON YOUR SHIRT!

With seven miles to go, I could start to calculate finish times and I could see that I was right around 4:30. I would of course have loved to at least get under 4:30, so that meant time to boogie. We were still headed north and this whole next section of the race had me thinking, when the hell are we turning around??? We were still running the wrong way. I couldn’t remember if we had another bridge, but I was pretty sure we had another whole borough because we hadn’t run through the Bronx yet. Finally the Willes Avenue bridge. Up and over. The Bronx greeted us with a great and LOUD rapper and plenty of spectators. I kept flipping my music on and off, depending on how much I liked the bands we were passing. But mostly I was thinking, when are we turning around??? Central Park is the other direction!!

I also started calculating my plan for the rest of the race. From talking to friends afterwards, I know quite a few people tracking me were wondering at this point if I was keeping an eye on my watch and whether I knew how close I was cutting it. Yes, I knew very well! A PR was still in reach, but I had to hustle. At that mile 19 water stop, I planned for two more stops. Water or Gatorade at 21 miles. Then I knew friends and family were at 23 miles so I would stop for a few seconds there regardless. I didn’t want to stop separately for Gu, but I also thought gutting it out from 19 to 26 with no Gu wasn’t a brilliant idea. So, at 23 miles I said no banana, but grabbed a salt tablet and a Gu and a swig of water. Snarky Girl told me I was doing great, but her eyes also said, You’d better hustle now girlfriend, so off I went.

From mile 23 to the end, I just ran as fast as I could. I negative split these miles, though I never got another sub-10 split, damn it. I was rushing down 5^th avenue as fast as I could go. The course got narrower again here and the crowds were definitely an issue. I found my aisle right along the left side of the course up against the spectators. This area was often clear and I could zip through. I passed tons of people here. I’m not exaggerating when I say I am sure I passed over 100 people in the last three miles of the race. It could easily have been more. Lots of people were walking and I had flashbacks to all the walking I did in the last six miles of Hartford. The final miles of a marathon are really tough.

I wasn’t walking now though. I am not usually one for picking people off, but I started trying that. I thought I would run alongside a woman in a white jacket, but I passed her. I picked out a big guy and ran behind him for awhile, then passed him too. It was still crazy windy but a lot of it was at our backs at this point. At 24 miles we turned into the park and I knew I really had to hurry. I ran by Runar Gundersen, who was running his 36th consecutive NYC marathons and has the most helpful website I found: http://www.runarweb.com/nycm_advice_e.php. I thought about saying hello, but I really just wanted to get done. I thought about my trainer. I am trying so hard to do one real chin-up and when I’m working with him, he’ll say, “You have to want it!” So, how bad did I want it? Very bad. I thought about a friend from sub-30 who threw up near the end of her most recent (3:38!!) marathon. Did I want it that badly? I have never wanted to puke while running. Would I puke now? Would I slow down if I thought I was going to puke? Thank goodness I didn’t have to answer that question because I could tell I wasn’t going to. But yes, for the first time in my life I thought, if I puke, so be it. I saw a big arch over the course that said 800 m to go. That is just twice around the damn track! I ran like crazy and crossed in just over 4:31. Official time 4:31:28. No 4:20 and not even under 4:30, but a PR all the same. Given the wind and especially the crowded course, I am thrilled! Did I cry a little at the finish line? Well, you have to pay $75 to sit on the grand stands and watch the finish of the NYC marathon so no one will ever know…..

After the finish, it’s a crazy death march. Volunteers give you your medal. You walk. They take your picture. You walk. They give you an aluminum foil blanket. You walk. They tape the blanket together. You walk. On and on and on. At some point you get the “recovery bag” which has water and Gatorade and some kind of protein shake, plus some actual food. Then you walk more. It was endless. But it was also awesome.

The most interesting thing here was that they had “Red Cross Spotters”. These were volunteers who kept asking everyone if they were ok. If someone said no, the Spotters had orange flags on poles that they could hold up and then a paramedic would come with some sort of medical backpack. I saw quite a few people getting help but most of us were just trudging onward. Even up a hill!!! What evil person put that hill there! Finally we were out of the park and they pinned the cozy blue ponchos on us to turn us into little slow-moving blue ghosts.

I had to walk two blocks west to Amsterdam and eight blocks north to 82^nd. That was a long, long walk. Finally around 78^th, I flagged down a bicycle taxi. I wish my phone had been working because I would have loved a picture of me in that thing. I arrived in style even if no one saw it! The Increible Mervus, Snarky Girl and Mr Snarky Girl were all at the peacefood café. We had a delicious warm (!) meal and a great post-race celebration. Then the train ride back to Connecticut and normal life.