feminism · fit at mid-life · fitness · racing · running · training

On Running My First Marathon (Guest Post by Alison Conway)

by Alison Conway

Image description: Alison on left, smiling, with short hair, sunglasses, and a t-shirt hugging a friend, longer hair, also smiling, stadium stands in the background.
Image description: Alison on left, smiling, with short hair, sunglasses, and a t-shirt hugging a friend, longer hair, also smiling, stadium stands in the background.

[Note from Tracy: Alison sent me this in April and her race was a few weeks ago. Congrats, Alison!]

Eighteen months ago, Donald Trump became president of the United States and I wrote here about my determination to limit my running time so that I could devote more energy to politics. Most immediately, my goal was to become active in the civic affairs of my home town.

Life had other plans for me. A year of upheaval included new jobs across the country, the sale of the home where I raised my children, the turmoil of a big move. My father became ill and he died. That family home was cleaned out and put on the market. It was, let’s say, a wrenching twelve months.

Through it all, running kept me grounded. Or rather, my running families kept me grounded. My Ontario friends ran with me in the weeks and months of packing and grieving. They convinced me to sign up for a spring 2018 marathon as a goal to work toward, whether or not I ran the race. I found a running club in my new home town and the folks in that group went out of their way to help me find my feet. I ran miles and miles through the roads and trails of my community, learning its spaces and hearing about those who live there.

As the ground under my feet was shifting, so too was the ground underneath American politics. Out of the ashes of the election arose the phoenix #metoo and a widespread protest against workplace harassment and sexual violence. From the Women’s Marches of January 2017 onward, energy and momentum built as women filed complaints and shared their stories.

When people remark on the difficult year I’ve had, I have often noted that running saved me. I began to wonder if it wasn’t doing more than moving me forward. The feelings I have toward the women who have helped me move and those who are helping me settle in British Columbia feel like the basis of a larger, collective feeling that has emerged in a wider sphere, one that helps women act together in an effort to shift cultural norms. It is, for me, both about harnessing anger and generating laughter. It is about looking down the road toward the goals that might take a while to reach.

A friend once said, casually, “Anyone can run a marathon. You just have to train for it.” What that remark misses is how difficult it is to train for a marathon: the discipline it takes to get out there day after day, week after week, in terrible weather, on days when other demands weigh heavily, when your mind says, “Enough.” There was a moment, maybe a month before the marathon, when I felt bone-tired. But I had friends waiting to run with me, so out I went.

Last month, race weekend arrived and I flew back to Ontario to meet the women who first encouraged me to sign up. One was injured, so couldn’t race—but she drove me to Toledo, OH, anyway. Another had just raced the Tokyo marathon, but she came along, too. They went over every detail of the race. I was shown how to make arm warmers, out of socks, that could be thrown away on the course (who knew?). They listened to me fuss and fret. They told me I could do it.

When I pulled on my arm warmers, the morning of the marathon, I felt like I was pulling on my armour. It was an armour I would not have been wearing, had it not been for the friendship of women, those who inspired me with the examples they set. It was an armour built, too, by the new friend who sent me a card, a week before the marathon, filled with messages of advice and encouragement; by the marathon veteran in my new running group, who slowed her own pace to help me speed up mine; by the colleague at my new job who trained with me, week after week, through rain and snow. It was the armour made by women everywhere who fight for the right for women to move freely in public spaces.

My marathon was a run of joy and gratitude, supported by the women who cheered me on as I faced down the miles. I have come out of a challenging year stronger and wiser. I can take that strength and wisdom into my community and help to make the changes that need to be made. The ground beneath my feet is made up of so much more than pavement. Mostly, it is made up of the feeling that emerges when women believe in each other: love.

athletes · eating · Guest Post · racing · running · sports nutrition · training

Aimée crosses a line (Guest post)

by Aimée Morrison

My half-marathon is in two weeks. I hit peak training mileage and intensity and the onset of summer heat at the same time. Naturally, my hydration and fuel strategy fell apart, and I had to buy a fuel belt, which is something I swore I would never do, but here I am. I’m thinking about why this has me so freaked out. Because I’m pretty freaked out.

The precipitating incident was last Sunday’s long run. My training group ran 20km and it was remarkably hot, all of sudden. Now, I had pretty easily run the same 20km the week before, and all the other runs before that. What happened this past Sunday, though, was: I didn’t have enough water in my tiny handheld bottle to compensate for the all the extra sweating the heat entailed, never mind the extra distance as we kept adding kilometers week after week. I also lost all my hunger cues because that’s what heat does to me and so I forgot to keep nibbling on my carb-and-chocolate baked bites that are my go-to run fuel. I also lost the pockets where I stashed these little snacks because I was now running without a jacket, so I hadn’t brought enough of them in any case. I just completely failed to hydrate and fuel anywhere near enough. I bonked at 18.5 km, and I had to stagger-walk the last 1.5km.

Which is how I found myself at the Running Room the next day, staring at a wall of bottles and bags and belts and bladders and cringing. I bought gels and reconciled myself to paste-food instead of solids. I bought a belt. It’s got a zip pouch for my phone, a quick-grab strap system for gels, and two-quick draw holsters from which I can quickly extract either of two fluorescent yellow 10oz water bottles. It’s got a non-slip strap that doesn’t bounce around on my hips, and a spot I can stash Kleenexes. It’s a fancy and expensive fanny pack, basically. I hated it on sight.

Well. Guess what? I’ve worn it out for my last three runs, and now I love it. It turns out that a steady stream of water and gels does keep me feeling strong through my whole run, and prevents me from feeling like trash in the hours afterwards. But I still feel really cringe-y about other people seeing me in it.

The thing is, I think I look like a jackass, some cross between a soccer mom with a purse full of snacks, a norm-core 90s dad, and some kind of ridiculously self-important non-athlete with more money than muscle endurance. Yeah: full on imposter syndrome, rooted in some pretty judgey thinking about soccer moms and 90s dads, and probably some worries that I now look exactly like all those other middle-aged fanny-packed women runners out there in their tech gear chugging along the Sunday sidewalks in their groups. It’s great that 25 year old me used to roll my eyes at those women in their sun-visors but I should rethink this practice at 45, when I am now clearly also a middle-aged woman with a whole hat rack of sun visors (so practical!) chugging along the Sunday trails with my group. It would be best if I could not reflexively hate myself for occasionally looking like … what I am. Ah, internalized ageism.

At the same time, I am kind of amazed at myself. How did I get here? This person with electrolyte sports drink in the left holster and water in the right? With gels on my hip that I greedily squeeze down my throat when I’m stopped at lights? But then I doubt myself: I’m just keeping a 7min/km pace—with walk breaks!—for a couple of hours in the middle of the city, not racing across the Sahara. Who do I think I am?

Increasingly, I answer myself firmly: I am a runner, putting in 35-45 km per week, across five days a week, doing hills, doing sprints, running big distances over long hours, in groups, with my husband, by myself. On my bonk run, my FitBit indicated I had burned something like 1350 calories over those 20km. I am very much entitled to my Endurance Tap energy gels and my electrolyte drinks. I am a pale and scrawny middle-aged woman with strong looking legs and a weak looking chin. I wear a fuel belt. I am an athlete.

You need a gel? I’ve got some extra, here in my fanny pack.

Aimée Morrison is on sabbatical from professoring in new media studies in 2018 and trying to achieve some healthy ratio of words-written to miles-run. She’ll run her first half marathon in Ottawa on May 27. With the help of 4 Endurance Tap packs, one bottle of electrolyte replacement, and one bottle of water, she finished this week’s 20km run in record time and without bonking, not even a little.

competition · fitness · race report · running

Bettina’s sunny 10k race report

Last weekend, I ran a 10k race. It was only my third ever ‘proper’ race, so these things are still sort of new and exciting to me. A key difference was also that I ran this race with a group of colleagues. To be fair, I started my first 10k running with a friend, but I knew he was going to be way faster than me so I wasn’t surprised when he took off after the first kilometre and the rest was very much a ‘me-vs-the-road’ thing. Last week’s race definitely felt like we were doing it as a group.

I had specifically picked this race because it was a flat course. I do very, very poorly on hills and it’s something I want to work on. So if anyone has any tips on how to improve running uphill, send them my way. I really need them. I also had a goal: I wanted to do it in under 60 minutes.

StLeonRot10k
Bettina post-race, complete with post-race hair.

The day of the race was a beautiful sunny Sunday and threatened to actually get quite hot. That thing about the hottest spring in the history of weather recording? Definitely true for this part of the world. It felt more like July than early May. Luckily the race was in the morning and substantial parts of it were in the shade. Still, when the 5k water station came around I was very grateful.

I started off sticking to a colleague with whom I’d run in the past and whom I knew to be more or less at the same pace as myself. Well… it turned out that apparently she’d been getting in a bit more training than me  and  set off faster than anticipated. Nevertheless, I tried to hang on to her as long as I could, because if anything, I’m competitive. But about three kilometres into the race I knew I had to let it, and my colleague, go.

But given that I was doing well for speed, I decided to try and stay at roughly a 5:30km/h pace, which is still faster than I normally run. At this point, I wanted to see if I could do it. And I almost could! In the end, I averaged 5:34, which is really good for me and I was very pleased with my final time of 56:46. I would have been even more pleased had I been able to do it in 55. So that’s my goal for next time.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable race in a small town with a very community feel, organised by the local sports club. The atmosphere was really relaxed, and while some of our team mentioned that it would have been nice to have more people cheering us on along the course, I actually didn’t mind the calmness of our run through fields and forest.

I’m not going to lie, parts of it were a struggle. It was quite hot out in the fields, so that was a factor. Also, when I had to acknowledge that my colleague was actually too fast for me, while a few months ago she was definitely slower, I couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated with myself. But I’m trying to push past that and focus on the fact that I ran an awesome time by my own standard. All in all, I had a great time. We went for a nice lunch with some of the team members afterwards and it was a lot of fun. I hope we run again soon!

fitness · racing · running

Who would do a 0.5 k race? (hint: not Cate or Tracy)

(This post is a conversation between Cate and Tracy).

Boerne

Cate:  So we’ve been talking about this story that’s circulating about a town in Texas that’s hosting a 0.5K race, complete with a beer at the start line and donuts halfway through.  Now, here’s the thing.  This is supposed to be playful — their site presents the “race” this way:

  • The um, “Run” will start at River Road Park, just across from the Dodging Duck.  Conveniently, the Duck has offered all participants a free pint of beer before the start of the race, so get there early.  Yay beer!
  • The um, “Race”, will then head down the River Road Park walkway, underneath the Main Street Bridge where you will finish in a blaze of glory.
  • We will then head to the Cibolo Creek Brewery to relive the experience, brag to our friends, take selfies to post on social media “I DID IT!!!  I’M A FINISHER!!  LOOK AT ME!!!”  Conveniently, CCB has offered all participants a free pint of beer at the end of the race.  Yay beer!

Now, sure this sounds fun and everything, and I get why it sold out. It’s just a fun send up of “real” races  But for some reason, hearing a story on CBC about this irritated me.  I’ve been thinking about why — and I know this makes me sound totally churlish —  and I think it’s because it buys into the trope that everyone “secretly hates” exercise.

One headline about it was “this town is hosting a 0.5k race because running sucks.”  I think I’m kind of sensitive about the shade I sometimes get about working out a lot from people who don’t — the implication that I’m some kind of masochist or showing off my virtue or a “fitness-aholic.”

Did it bug you?

Tracy: Yes, it bugged me too! My first encounter with this story was in a link to an article entitled “This town is hosting a 0.5K race for people who hate running,” but when you click through appears to be the same article as the one Cate just linked to (with one with “…because running sucks”).  My reaction right away was, “FFS why don’t they just find a different activity?”

I said that before I read the article. A closer read: it’s about fun. It’s for charity. It’ll “afford you the opportunity to experience a winner’s finish without even breaking a sweat.”  Because we want that finish line experience even though, according to the article, we all know that “running blows.”

So why did it annoy me? Like Cate, I just don’t buy into that narrative. If you think running blows, then don’t run.

But then what’s wrong with all the other stuff? I often find myself on the wrong side of fun-promotion (I get irritated when people talk about goat yoga, for example). Why begrudge people that “finish line feeling”? And the charity aspect, raising money for Blessings in a Backpack, a charity that feeds children in need on weekends. Or the “VIP” option where you can skip the 0.5K altogether and get an even bigger medal. I have no objection to play, but I think the whole thing pushed my philosophical buttons.

Cate, I want to hear more about your negative reaction. It’s comforting that I’m not alone.

Cate:  I think I feel like you do. On one hand, I get that it’s a playful thing, and if they were trying to get attention, it worked — it’s a tiny event in a small town in Texas and they got media coverage in Newsweek, the Washington Post, a national CBC show — and they sold out. So from a marketing point of view — and from a fundraising perspective — it was a huge success.  And it’s the inversion of the normal race that got them that attention.  And I’m sure it was a fun event — who doesn’t love a good doughnut?

But I agree with you that there’s something at the centre of it that niggles me — something about the notion that you can skip right over the actual experience of training and running to enjoy “being a finisher.”

Partly this bugs me because of the implication that the only enjoyable part of running is crossing the finish line — like it’s all hell but at least you get to brag about it.  It’s part of this whole narrative that if physical things are hard, they are inherently miserable.  That’s not my experience. I thrive on hard, long, windy bike rides or tough runs, and find something deeply satisfying — and yes, enjoyable — to truly work my body to its fullest.  It’s me at my most human, and I’d never want to skip over that.

And when I dig underneath, my reaction is about this bigger notion that life is about collecting experiences and knocking them off the list, not about being truly present in the moment of things.  It’s the same reason the concept of bucket lists bothers me.  I travel a lot, and I keep a running tally of how many countries have been to, but it’s not about collecting them — it’s about savouring the mystery and the privilege of being able to see such a profoundly amazing and diverse world.

 

Tracy: There is a thought experiment in philosophy called “The Experience Machine.” It lets you program in any experience and if you’re hooked up to the machine you experience 100% indecipherable from reality. The question is: would you choose to spend the rest of your life hooked up to the machine (you can’t go in and out — one decision, yes or no?)? The “right answer” for most people is “no, I wouldn’t.”

Why not? Because, so the argument goes, we value more than experience. We value actual achievement. It’s not enough to be convinced I won a Pulitzer. The experience only has value if I did earn a Pulitzer. This event purports to “afford you the opportunity to experience a winner’s finish without even breaking a sweat.” I understand that it’s just a small variation on the argument against finishers’ medals (that they’re not really “earned” and medals should be reserved for the top 3). But somehow having the experience of finishing a race without actually finishing takes it one step too far. When I get a finishers medal I am under no illusions: I have not placed 1-3. But I DID finish. And I earned that much, at least. But this… nope. There is no accomplishment.

Now maybe this view just means I’m so steeped in a cultural narrative about merit and desert that I need to take a step back and lighten up. But there is a further thing that I think is potentially lost when we make light of running (or any activity) by offering a no-benefit option. It’s not just about accomplishment. It’s also about making light of the real issue of inactivity and sedentary lifestyles that carry with them actual health consequences.

This race, apparently, even has a smoking zone. And beer. Everything in me just wants to scream “no, no, no, no, no.” I’ll take the Colour Run over this any day (and I’m not keen on the Colour Run either — for myself. Its very existence doesn’t bother me but it’s not my kind of event).

There are lots of other great ways, fun ways, to earn money for charity. Right, Cate? We brainstormed a bunch at the Guelph book launch the other day, remember?

Cate:  Yup!  Go bowling, have a silent auction, make art, have a disco-themed gala, invite an inspiring speaker, organize a cabaret, have a rock paper scissors contest, a thumb wrestling championship, euchre tournament, three-legged race — the world is stuffed with experiences you can fully inhabit.  You don’t have to mock one of the things that’s an actual goal for a lot of people trying to become healthier.

Curmudgeonly Cate signing off ;-).

 

 

 

fitness · race report · racing · running

Tracy’s 10K without prep: “Woo hoo! I wasn’t in the bottom 10!”

Image description: Tracy in running tights, a t-shirt, ballcap and sunglasses, long-sleeved run top around waist, race bib on front, smiling and holding a paper cup in her right hand, people, grass, trees, and inflatable race arch in background.
Image description: Tracy in running tights, a t-shirt, ballcap and sunglasses, long-sleeved run top around waist, race bib on front, smiling and holding a paper cup in her right hand, people, grass, trees, and inflatable race arch in background.

Like I said last week in “Would you run a 10K with no prep?”, I went into Saturday’s MEC 10K with no expectations because I had done virtually no training for it. It was just a way to get back into things, at my own easy pace. I actually didn’t want to hook up with anyone to run it with me this time. My feminist playlist and Coach Linda’s voice in my head were all I needed to keep me moving forward this time.

It turns out that a lot of the participants in the MEC series are pretty speedy folks. So I soon realized that I was really near the back of the pack. There were a lot of people doing all sorts of different distances — 5K, 10K, 15K with trail and road options. We had staggered start times, by distance, but for the roadsters, there was just one 5K out and back loop that we had to repeat (twice for the 10K, three times for the 15K). Thank goodness it wasn’t on a part of the pathway system that I frequently run or that would have been almost unbearable. It was never lonely but I could tell from the bib colours (blue for 10K!) that for my distance there weren’t that many people behind me.

Despite going in with an “I’ll take what I can get” attitude, I have to say that there is a certain sort of psychological battle that ensues and I had to (and did) overcome it. There is a voice in my head that messes with me sometimes and tells me it’s a waste of time (I’m not sure whose time is being wasted, since clearly I benefit from physical activity) for me to be out there.

I watch people powering past, and think wow. Mostly I’m impressed. Like when Spencer, who works down the hall from me and won the men’s 5K distance with an astonishing 17:19, blew past me (the 5K started later lol) and said “Hey Tracy!” I just felt good. Because I really don’t compare myself to Spencer and can be simply amazed by him instead.

The psychological battle this time wasn’t quite the same. Yes, I had a bit of “what the heck are you doing out there with all these real runners?” Even after all this time, I still sometimes doubt my runner-cred. But the voice didn’t take me down. There was some push back, “hey! I’m a feminist fitness blogger and author, so shut up!” And also, “I’m doing 10K because I can!” which happens to be the truth of the matter. I can. And I did.

There was a great moment in the race when I women who obviously reads the blog (I only saw her back as she ran past) said something along the lines of “10K without prep! Yay you!” And I was like, “yes, yay me!” It put a huge smile on my face — so to the mystery woman who said that to me, thank you because I loved that moment.

I used a few things my running coach, Linda had taught me. She’s the ultimate positive person. She has all sorts of cool tricks for keeping that forward momentum. The two I used this time were: “fast feet, fast feet” and “touch lift, touch lift.” These little mantras are gold when I need something more than my feminist playlist to keep me going. I just pick on and repeat it, focusing on my feet.

I also used Linda’s trick of setting myself little goals to get to — the next bench, that tree, the water station, the bridge…

I didn’t go in with much strategy. I set my Garmin to 10-1 intervals with no intention of taking the walk-breaks unless absolutely needed. In the end, I only took two of them for about 30 seconds each time, walked through two water stations for about 15 seconds each, and took one additional walk break to remove my long sleeved top when it got too hot.

When I got to the last 2K I decided to try picking up my pace a bit, knowing that it was not so far to the finish line and I didn’t need to have anything left by the time I got there. I consistently upped my pace every 500m or so until the end, powering up to the finish line, crossing at 1:09:20 at a 6:29 pace, which was faster than my average 6:56 pace over the 10K. I liked that feeling of pushing myself towards the finishing arch.

I didn’t look up my official result until much later that day. I fully expected to be in the bottom 10 of the entire race. Now, I’m not usually one to feel good at someone else’s expense because I know we all run our own race and someone has to be in the bottom 10 (10 people, in fact). But I have to say I was pleasantly surprised to see that I wasn’t in the bottom 10 that day, and that’s even ruling out the people who didn’t finish or show up.

My new goal for this 10K training commitment that I’m doing for the next few months is to get that time down to 65 minutes or less. I’m not sure I can do that by the May MEC race, which is May 26th (but I just remembered my photography course starts that day — may need to find a different event or do a 10K on my own). But it’s my summer goal. And I’m excited about it because that would be a personal best for me and I feel confident I can do it, especially with Linda’s guidance.

I’m all for the 10K distance right now. It’s far enough that it helps satisfy the endurance athlete in me, but it’s not so far that training feels like it’s dominating my life. And I can even do the events without prep — not that I recommend that, actually. I confess I felt pretty stiff the next day when I went out for an easy 5K with Julie to run it off.

Do you have an easy or difficult time “running your own race”?

 

fitness · racing · running · training

Would you run a 10K with no prep?

Image description: (MEC 10K in October 2017) Tracy standing in the right foreground in running shorts, tank, and shoes with a race bib 2065. Canopy with MEC sign hanging from it in the left background, and a race podium (1-2-3), and a finish line inflatable arch, and a few people in the background. Green grass, fall leaves, trees.
Image description: (MEC 10K in October 2017) Tracy standing in the right foreground in running shorts, tank, and shoes with a race bib 2065. Canopy with MEC sign hanging from it in the left background, and a race podium (1-2-3), and a finish line inflatable arch, and a few people in the background. Green grass, fall leaves, trees.

As I’ve mentioned a few times this winter, my training has gone sideways. I’ve stuck with personal training but running? Extremely sporadic training schedule. So my commitment to do the MEC series at the 10K distance seems awfully ambitious considering the first event of my line-up is…wait for it….Saturday!

We’ve also had shit weather and basically there was no way I was going out in the ice storm on the weekend. All I did was 25 minutes on the treadmill. Then this week with weather and media and all manner of this and that, it doesn’t look like I’ll get more than a short one in before Saturday. Then Saturday: 10K.

Obviously the question has arisen in my mind: really? Must I?

Answer: yes really. But must I? No. I get to choose. But I’m going to choose the follow through. Why? Because you can only get momentum going by doing the thing. The more I pass up opportunities to get back into the game the harder it is.

So I’m doing it. My race strategy is: enjoy. I’ve got my feminist playlist. Environment Canada is forecasting double digit highs. And the race doesn’t even start until 9:35. My objective here is to establish a baseline to beat next time.

The upside of going in cold on Saturday is there is nowhere to go but up in May. And then I have the entire summer to train for early September and late October (between which I’m throwing in the Toronto Waterfront Half Marathon as a “welcome back Anita” event).

To answer the question posed in my title: yes. I would and I will.

What would you do?

fitness · health · racing · running

On group running (Guest post)

In February 2017, I joined a running group. I had been thinking about something like that for a while but did not want to sign up for something official and pay fees. I did not want to join a group to find motivation or train for specific races and distances. I was just curious as to the dynamic of group running and perhaps, unconsciously, try to break out of my isolation. I live by myself and am a very independent person who can do pretty much everything on her own, including training. But I had started thinking this may not be good for me.

So when I saw a few posts on my Facebook feed about the Merchant Ale House Run Club I inquired. This was the perfect group for me to try: I was told all levels of running and walking were involved and it was very informal: show up at the Merch at 10am on Sunday and go out for a run. And so I did.

It was intimidating to join a group of people I did not know (as it turned out, I knew the one person I inquired from and found out when I showed up). Peter, a group member, saw it was my first time there and ran with me even if it slowed him down. That was really nice and made me feel welcome. After the run, I returned home not entirely convinced though that this was for me. So a few Sundays in a row I forced myself to go. A bit more than a year in: I would not miss Sunday morning run club unless I am out of town and even then I miss it.

As we like to say, this is a drinking group with a running problem. After the run, we gather at the pub for some pints and food. When I first joined, I did not know this was the pattern and on my first visit even left right away! Now? I would not miss the run or the gathering of friends. As I see it, the Sunday morning sessions are a great boost to my physical and my mental health. Now it is not just the pints, food, and merriment that boosts the latter, but also the encouragements and mutual support the group offers while out running and after.

I have blogged before about my return to running after a stretch of injury and how I had been amazed at running 8.5 km with a goal of eventually running 10km (see here). This past Sunday I ran 11.5 km with the group, including climbing the Hydro Hill by Brock which is a very steep escarpment hill. The fasties (Lisa, Tony, and Jordy who regularly run 2 digits distances at a fast pace) waited for us at the bottom of the hill. At first, my friend Alex and I thought we were going to run to the bottom of the hill and back. But once there, and with encouragement and enthusiasm, there we went! And we conquered it!

IMG_4450
Hydro Hill conquered! From left to right: Tony, Alex, Jordy, me, Lisa, Peter, Christine

3 weeks before, gently pushed by Peter and Christine I ran 10km at a pretty good pace for me without having planned for it. This is what run club has also done for me: lead me to unexpected achievements. Also, we have signed up for races – something I would never have done on my own – and I ran the Run for the Grapes 5km on the hottest day of the year on 24 September 2017 and then 10km on October 15, 2017 as part of the Niagara Falls marathon! Crossing the finish line with my run club friends cheering me from the side was such a great experience! On April 21st, we are running Head for the Hills Trail Race. Who have I become?

Running by myself is still great. I enjoy the meditative aspect of it. It also happens that run club is a solitary run as we spread out running at our individual paces. But gathering together after the run, cheering and celebrating each other’s accomplishments, is the mental health boost that can’t be beat!