A Day in a Ditch

Posted on March 26, 2015 by PattyRan

The alarm was set for 4am, but after spending hours NOT sleeping, I got out of bed at 3:45. Struggling to shake off the drowsiness, I prepared my tea and small breakfast in silence. It was 19 degrees out, but it would warm up to 80 by the afternoon. I quickly dressed in layers, and Jeff and I headed down to the hotel lobby, to meet the rest of the runners. We nervously joked about the temperatures and the physical challenge we were about to undertake.

We set out to run the Grand Canyon.

Arriving at the Bright Angel trailhead, the 9 of us turned on our headlamps, donned our gloves, took a few pictures, chatted nervously in the dark, muttered something like “Holy FUCK, It’s COLD”, and off we ran- beginning our descent into the biggest hole in the USA.

Six of the nine quickly disappeared into the abyss, as they were the elite athletes, embarking on a 50 mile “Rim to rim to rim” run. Jeff, Shane, and I had our sights on 20-23 miles. As any of my running buddies will tell you, I am a bit of a whiner on the trails. Before attempting this crazy ass adventure, I hadn’t convinced myself that I even REMOTELY liked trail running. So, what the heck was I doing? Too late to turn back! I pushed the button on my headlamp, and started down the trail. Visibility was limited to the beam from of our lamps and obstructed by the eerie swirling of the trail dust. I had no idea what lay beyond the small circle of light as we silently barreled down those first miles of switchbacks. Of course, I would find out later that most of the trails had shear cliffs and deep drop offs just outside of our sight.

The first signs of light began to glow within an hour of our start, and as morning broke, the views opened before us. The reveal of the Canyon’s layers, as the sun rose provided a dazzling show of rainbow colors against the massive walls surrounding us. We stopped to photograph the moment.

At the 4.5 mile mark, we came upon Indian Gardens campground, nestled in a valley, with colorful trees and a stream. It was only when we approached this area that we saw the first signs of other people. We mistakenly took a wrong turn, which turned out to be a 3 mile detour and ran the Tonto West Trail. This lead us to a gorgeous rock platform overlooking the Colorado River. Gorgeous, but in the wrong direction.

We turned around and found our way back to the correct trail. What’s a few extra miles, anyway? The terrain was mostly flat for these few miles, so we ran comfortably and took in the sights. It’s indescribable.

Before long, we found ourselves navigating steep and technical trails, with extreme switchbacks, so we slowed our pace considerably. The trails were now crowded with people hiking in both directions, but as far as I could tell, we were the only one’s actually running. I got some wonderful comments from people of all ages, showing encouragement and awe at what we were doing.

As we rounded a corner and saw the Colorado River, I was blown away by it’s power and history. The sound was mesmerizing. We stopped for a while, just to experience it and stare. Here was the 17 million year old river, with the power to cut a 277 mile, 6000+ feet deep canyon. The mighty Colorado River.

At this point, Jeff’s calf was giving him trouble, so he decided to start the trek back up the canyon, and Shane and I continued on to find Phantom Ranch. As it turns out, it was only a few more miles and one metal, grated bridge crossing. SCAREY!

By this time, we were 4 hours into our run and I felt incredible. I had energy to spare and wanted to keep running forever. Shane and I found Phantom Ranch and took a break to snack and refill our water bottles. There is a US Post Office at the ranch, and the mail is brought out on mule train, so Shane sent some post cards to his family.

I was THRILLED to find that the small cafe served Tazo English Breakfast Tea-my favorite!!! I sat down outside and thoroughly enjoyed a cup with my snack of peanutbutter energy bars. At that moment, all was right in my world.

A short time later, I took this

The first 6 miles of the ascent felt great. I had energy to spare and I powered up the hills, sweating, but thoroughly enjoying the challenge. I met people from around the globe, and shared encouragement with them all. It got quite hot though, so I started dunking my head in every stream crossing, to cool off.I kept looking up at the cliffs and started feeling a bit overwhelmed with the long, steep climb still ahead.

Once back at Indian Ranch, I thought about the 4.5 mile 4600 foot climb and realized that I had to do it without stopping or I would get miserably discouraged. It was approximately 8 hours since we started, and I knew I didn’t have several more in me. I told Shane that I would meet him at the top and headed off. This excruciating climb took me 1:21. This was the most physically and mentally challenging thing I have ever done. I can’t even convey the degree of difficulty, putting one foot in front of the other, all the while looking up at the grueling switchbacks and knowing I still had miles to go. I sweat like a pig and stunk worse than one when I reached the top. I could barely walk.

Jeff met me at the car and we went back to the hotel to shower and submerse ourselves in the glorious hotel hot tub. The pain was incredible, but nothing like what we would experience in the next few days. We drove back and met Shane and the rest of the group and then gathered to have dinner and celebratory drinks. I ate almost an entire gluten free pizza by myself.

The next morning, we all stumbled down to breakfast and shared our stories. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting everyone and sharing this epic experience with them. Late that day, we said our goodbyes and headed back to Phoenix for our last night. Getting out of the car was hilarious. Our legs didn’t work. Checking into the hotel, I was informed that the room I reserved wasn’t available, so they upgraded us to a Jacuzzi suite! YES!!! I think we stayed in that tub for an hour.

The next day at the airport, I couldn’t resist…my poor body.

Over the years, I’ve traveled the globe, and seen some amazing things. There’s a reason why the Grand Canyon is one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. Go see it. If you are crazy like me, go run it. You will love it. Every beautiful, sweaty, stinky, sucky part of it.

As always, thanks for reading my blog. Subscribe so you can follow along. Share it, if you’d like. Until next time….

A Winter Diversion

Posted on March 5, 2015 by PattyRan

I decided to get away from the office for a week, and take a trip to Florida to visit my parents. My folks “Winter” in the South, like all good retired New Englanders. I call it “Heaven’s waiting room”.

I’m cursed with the lack of ability to relax, so I scoured the internet to see if there were any races near my parent’s place. Luckily for me, the 25/75 Championship Triathlon was scheduled nearby, so I registered for the Sprint distance. (750 meter swim, 12.4 mile bike, 3.1 mile run) The Port St Lucie Club Med hosted the event. I found a local triathlon shop nearby and rented a nice bike.

Florida weather is unpredictable. It was cloudy and windy most of the week, with temperatures in the 70’s and low 80’s. The humidity kicked my butt as I continued my daily training. I found an outdoor pool to swim laps and rode a crappy recumbent bike while watching “The Price is Right” with retirees who exercised on 30 year old equipment.

Back to the weather. All week, thunderstorms threatened the area and the weekend report was bleak. I half expected the event to be canceled. The day before the race brought a storm of Biblical proportions. Six to Seven inches of rain before 1 pm, and strong winds. I took this video from parents’ dining room window.

That’s not a sidewalk that you see-it’s a flood.The video doesn’t portray the intensity of the storm, but you get the idea. Flooding was widespread, roads were closed, and many neighborhoods around Stuart and Port St Lucie were underwater. I didn’t have a great feeling about racing in these conditions.

Sunday morning, I woke at 4:30 am. It was still pouring. Yippee. I stood in the kitchen, making my tea, eggs, banana, and peanutbutter breakfast, and questioned my sanity. “No turning back now.” I thought. When I left the house at 5:45, it was still raining. I had my rental bike, pump, wet suit, goggles, cap, towel, running shoes, bike shoes,…..and a million other necessities that a triathlete needs for a race. With a pit in my stomach, I rolled along the highway, imagining the miserable day I was about to experience.

Halfway to the race location, the rain stopped. It wasn’t quite sunrise yet, but I could see some breaks in the clouds and was hopeful for improvement. My mood lifted, I tuned the radio to a local Rock station, cranked up the volume , and started singing at the top of my lungs. Just like that, I WAS READY! WOOHOO!

I set up my bike in the transition area, chatted with other athletes, visited the bathrooms a half a dozen times, and drank my pre race GenUcan. Time to kick ass.

Getting ready to race

Twenty minutes before the swim start, I wiggled into my wet suit and made my way to the river. I was repulsed by the color. Black. Dirty black water. Gross. The starting gun went off, and into the churning mess I went. It was a rectangle course, and it took almost half of the distance before I got away from swimmers kicking me, hitting me in the face,swimming over me, across me, and under me. The wind picked up, and the swells were so high, it was difficult to sight the buoys. I like to swim a tight course, but had a hard time navigating. Finally, I rounded the first buoy and the course opened up a bit. At the second turn, the current tried to push us off course. One guy in front of me was “tacking” wildly, making it difficult to pass him. Every time I tried to go around him, he moved right in front of me. Desperate to do something to get out from behind him, and between his legs, I made a fist and socked him in the…ahem….sensitive area. This got his attention and he moved over. (Am I bad?) I exited the swim and started peeling off my wet suit as I ran to transition. I heard people calling my name! It was my sister, her family, and my parents jumping up and down, cheering for me.

I never look behind me when I race, and this day was no exception. Arriving in transition I had a momentary “unusual” experience. I stopped and looked around me. Most of the bikes were still racked. How can this be? I was in the second to last wave? Had I passed people? WAKE UP, Patty, and get going! I managed a quick transition and was off running with my bike to the exit.

The bike course was flat and technical. The storm left behind puddles and debris on the roads. This poorly designed course had multiple traffic circles, several complete 360 degree TIGHT turns at round-abouts, at least four 90 degree turns, and a few bumpy brick stretches. Strong winds on the open course added to the difficulty. There were plenty of course volunteers, and I thanked every one of them as I sped by. I averaged 18 mph, which was disappointing to me, but only a handful of people passed me. Heading into transition, one of the volunteers said, “Great job-you’re in a good position. Keep going.”

I couldn’t find my asthma inhaler, and I usually need it for the run. Exiting the main area, I watched a few runners dodging puddles, but being an Oregonian, I blasted past them, running right through the water. (Those that know me at home, know that I hate having wet feet, or getting my shoes dirty. HAHA) I ran my heart out. While I struggled with my “mental” race, I was determined not to let anyone pass me. Can I keep this pace? Can I make it? Will I stop and walk a bit? WHERE’S THE FREAKING MILE MARKERS? When I felt myself slipping, I actually started praying. Yep. Good old Irish Catholic girl. I meditated as I ran, calming my breath and shutting out the negative thoughts. Rounding the final turn before the home stretch, I once again saw my family cheering. There was a 180 degree turn twenty or so yards before the finish line, (REALLY???) and finally, I was done! I got hugs from my family and I felt great.

We hung around for a while and then walked to the pool for the reward ceremony. I had no idea what my results were. A long while later, I found out that I had won my age group! YES! I was ecstatic. Turns out I was 9th overall female finisher and 54th overall. I missed my Sprint Pr by 45 seconds, BUT I PR’d the 5k run by over a minute. 1:25:40 was my official time for the Sprint. 23:54 for the run.(7:41 per mile) Not bad for a 55 year old gal.

I’m glad I had this opportunity to race in Florida and even happier I got to spend time with my sister, her family, and my parents. That made the trip special!

Thanks for reading my blog. I encourage you to get moving. Make healthy choices. Enjoy your journey. Share your story with me!

Run and Done

Posted on April 15, 2014 by PattyRan

I’m a liar. I lie to my family, my friends, my coaches, and even myself. This past weekend, I lied to strangers. Funny think is, I know a large number of those people were lying too. We knew it and we were ok with it.

Let me explain. I ran the Vernonia Half Marathon on Sunday. This was the third time I’ve done this race, and it has become my favorite half. Two years ago, it was the first half marathon I had ever done, and that was a huge milestone at 52 years old. Of course I cried when I crossed the finish line. I was escorted the whole 13.1 miles by my fellow Honey Badgers, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to finish without their help and support.

My support group of Honey Badgers-the best, most badass girls in the world.

Since that date, I have run 9 half marathons, 2 full marathons, 3 triathlons, and countless 5k’s, 10k’s, and relays. During this time, I spent much of the later part of 2012 and the first half of 2013 injured. I alternated between NOT running and doing Physical Therapy, to running TOO much, and hurting myself again. Like Winnie the Poo, I am a person with “little brain”. SO, I got a one on one coach to help me “Be healthy, train smart, and have fun.” (PRS Fit)

Working with a coach and being a member of an international team of athletes keeps you on your toes….and in the pool…. and on the bike. It also keeps you from buying Doritos and having “just one more glass of wine” at night. You see your weekly workouts and wonder, “How the heck am I going to do that?” And you DO it. Some days the challenge seems easy. Other days, you set off for a series of fast running intervals, only to succumb to a severe asthma attack, get scared, throw up, and cry. THEN you walk a little because, after all, you’re three miles from home, and what are you going to do? You get home, log your workout and wait for your coach to review and comment on your amazing effort.

This is where the lying begins. I tell myself that I am NOT a good athlete. I tell myself that I am not strong, not fast, not “worthy” of my team and my fellow athletes. The words “I am a poser” have crossed my lips more times than I dare admit. Silly I know, but I imagine you might have had these thoughts from time to time, as well.

These lies are poison. They are death to the mind, the ego, and the soul. I am making a commitment to end the repetitive negative self talk that accompanies me on my athletic journey. I know I will struggle with this, but I will keep at it, like I will keep doing my interval runs, despite my asthma. Like I will go lap after lap in the pool, until I am dizzy and shriveled. Like I will endure the pain in my legs while cycling uphill in zone 4. Like I will continue to work out, log, learn, and improve.

This past few weeks, as I was training for the Vernonia race, I struggled with every run. I had serious doubts about finishing the race at all. I told my coach I wasn’t looking to PR, but I wouldn’t mind at least finishing as fast as my LAST PR back in December during the Holiday Half Marathon in Portland. That was my best race ever, despite a nervous stomach and some GI issues around mile 5.

It was a chilly day in Portland, but perfect running weather for a race!

What I didn’t tell my coach was that SHIT YEAH, I wanted to PR! I wanted to break 2 hours, to be exact. But I lied. I didn’t think I had it in me, so I stuffed it. I was afraid of failing, of admitting to myself that I thought I could do it, and afraid of….WHAT exactly? I don’t know. Coach gave me a plan, and I committed it to memory. I still didn’t know if I had another 2:04 in me.

The morning of the run, I was surrounded by the familiar faces of dozens of my running friends. It was a glorious morning, in the low 40’s to start, with temperatures expected to reach the 70’s by afternoon. The sky was blue and the trees were all in bloom. Talk about beautiful! The first mile or so of the course is downhill, so you have to be a bit careful not to blow out your legs by going too fast too early in the race. The rest of the course is fairly flat until the last 3-5 miles, where you gradually go uphill the whole time. Last year, this uphill killed my damaged Achilles. I walked a lot that year. THIS year, however, I was determined NOT to let it stop me.

I ran my “plan” and found myself just a little ahead of my time at the mile marks. I felt pretty good, so I just kept on going. I chatted with friends along the way, but got into my own head and kept on pushing myself forward at a steady pace. I set my sights on a few people ahead of me that I knew were shooting for a sub 2 hour finish and tried to keep up with them. I got an amazing compliment from a young 20 something year old girl who said as she came up beside me; “I’ve had you in my sights for a while, and it was my goal to catch you.” What? Me?

I did all my secret tricks for staying focused on this run, like repeated mantras in my head, said lots of prayers, and replayed my coach’s words of encouragement. I knew I was on target to beat my stated goal and now I was HUNGRY to beat that 2 hour mark. Doubt is a bastard though, and in the last 3/4 of a mile, my body started listening to the devil within me. EVERYTHING started to hurt: my knees, my IT band, my “bad” ankle, my blister on the bottom of my foot, and my head. Three times I stopped for just a second or two to stretch and just say “NO” to the noise. When I saw the last short steep downhill switchback, just before the finish line, I barreled around a group of runners, and made the last effort to get it done. My official finish time was 2:00:29. I had beat my recent PR by over 4 minutes!

Boy, did that feel great! I had a great run, on a great day, and proved to myself that I am not a poser. I’m a strong, determined competitor that is still improving. From now on, I will not lie about my goals. I wonder how well I would have done if I had admitted to myself and my coach that I wanted to finish in under 2 hours. Well, in about 2 weeks, I am running the Tacoma Half Marathon, and I WILL beat that time. I hope to tell you all about it!

Do you hide your goals behind your fears or doubts? Do you lie to yourself? Let’s agree to work on that, shall we?

100K on Jan 1st

Posted on January 3, 2014 by PattyRan

Woohoo, I just banked 100K! No, it wasn’t money, it was kilometers. On a bike. In temps between 35-39 degrees. Without shoe covers. Yeah, I’m an idiot.

These past few months have been crazy with activity, challenges, and changes. I have been too busy to blog, and too overwhelmed to even THINK of things to blog about. But, today I will put down some thoughts.

I cut eleven inches off of my hair in August. Yep. It was the best decision! I love the freedom of short hair, and the fact that I don’t even need a brush anymore. I can dry it in five minutes!

The new ME

Yeah, I know, I look ten years younger. Haha, I FEEL 10 years younger, actually. I’m doing the “Benjamin Button” thing this year.

I’ve been training with a maniacal (and hugely effective) Triathlon coach since May, and I am doing some form of training seven days a week. This training is all based on heart rate, and if my resting HR is 8-10 beats per minute higher than it should be, I get a day off. This has only happened once in the past three months. If you told me a year ago that I would be doing this much physical activity at this age, and still functioning, I would have laughed in your face and eaten another bag of Doritos. For the record, I haven’t had Doritos since the Summer. Farewell my spicey friend, I miss you so. True confession time: I actually did eat these in Mexico in November:

Technically they are not Doritos, so it doesn’t count.

When I returned from my trip to NY in October, I made the decision that it was time to downsize. For the past eight years, I have been living in a 3000 SF, 5 bedroom, 4 bathroom house, with a 3 car garage. My children live out of State, and are not coming back, so there is no reason to hold on to this size house anymore. Some long term tenants recently gave their notice, so this was the “Speak now or forever hold your piece” moment. Little did I know what I was about to experience. The idea of downsizing sounds all sorts of sexy. It’s not.

A lifetime of accumulated articles of memories, baby clothes, kids’ school projects, camping and rafting equipment that hasn’t been used in years, client files, 2 snow shovels that have never been used,…you get the picture. Did I mention that the new house doesn’t have a garage? Moving day was December 20, 2013. Oh wait, no. It was actually supposed to be the 19th, which was the date I put on the lease my new tenant, (moving into the big house) signed. OOPS!!! It didn’t help that I went to Mexico for 10 days to celebrate Thanksgiving with family! I already had started to loose my mind before the trip; evident by the fact that I arrived at the airport with my expired Passport and missed my flight.

This is my “I missed the flight because I am a dork, and now I have to take a later flight alone” face.

In the end, I made it and kept my cool.

Back to my training. While in Mexico, I continued my daily training, because, 1) I eat and drink like a college student while on vacation, and 2) My other “team mates’ and I were in a Team Challenge that included doing daily prescribed workouts, logging them, and posting video proof on Facebook, for bonus points. I wanted to win this challenge, so I went full speed ahead, despite the alcohol poisoning that was, no doubt creeping up on me. I wasn’t a total lush on vacation, and some days I actually had healthy food. Who wouldn’t when this kind of stuff is available and CHEAP?

Some days we even had a late morning or afternoon snack of a Pina Colada in the container that Mother Nature provided, as is demonstrated by my able bodied assistant, daughter Audrey:

Coconut, courtesy of one of our trees.

The trip was fantastic. I got all of my workouts in and posted, including some fun videos of me “suffering through” the crappy weather, all in the name of fitness. Who’s kidding who? This is pretty much what I felt like every day in Mexico, knowing that I was not in the cold Pacific Northwest in November:

One week after I returned, this happened:

20 degrees with a wind chill factor of 10

The cold reality that is my REAL life hit like a steel door in the face. Winter had arrived in Portland and I was not prepared for the sudden shift. I got over it after a real breakdown on the Portland Waterfront.

I have much more to tell you and for today, I will leave you with this. Happy New Year and I will be back more regularly to thrill you with my escapades!

Emotional Workouts

Posted on June 22, 2013 by PattyRan

To describe the events of the past few weeks would require many hours and countless visits to the online Thesaurus. I don’t recall a time when so many things happened in such a short period. The good, the bad, and the BEST! Through it all, I managed to stay alive, although my composure suffered a bit.

To spill the beans on the source of all the excitement….MY DAUGHTER GOT MARRIED! This was a good thing, no, A GREAT THING! I couldn’t be happier.

Best kiss eva

To celebrate the event, my entire clan drove or flew into Portland from 7 different states. This is the first time we have all been together-all at the same time in 17 years.We are a damned good looking family, if I do say so myself. The wedding went off without a hitch, which was a giant relief. We all had so much fun, and the party afterwards was memorable, to say the least. With all the dancing, my feet hurt for days.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were full of emotion, activity, details, and all sorts of stressful moments. I wouldn’t have changed a thing, though, except for the gallons of my shed tears. I often wondered how Mother’s of the Brides survived the ceremonies without large doses of prescription medications. I opted against that plan, although I did stock up on “mother’s little helpers” just in case. I chose to let my workouts do my therapy. Let the good times roll, baby. There’s nothing like a grown woman, sobbing while running her zone 2 work out. Yep, it happened.

One week before the wedding, I was completely out of my mind. I thought I was keeping a level head about the whole thing, but I still had to make my daughter’s veil, print the programs and seating cards, organize the balloon decoration delivery, fill 140 bags with candy, fix the hem on MY dress, make all of the flower centerpieces, AND the 7 bridal bouquets. All of this while working 10-12 hour days, and trying to fit in my workouts. Did I also mention that my large family started to arrive? Bodies in every bedroom? Washer and dryer running around the clock? Family members ages 4-80 crawling all over my house? Woohoo, Calgon, take me away.

I had one particularly difficult run that pretty much turned into my emotional breakdown of the century. I was out for a 1 hour run, in a zone 2 heart rate, with surges every 20 minutes. The first 20 minutes went fine. The next 10 were horrible, and by 35 minutes, I found myself on the bike path near my house, in full out sobbing mode. We’re talking hiccups and everything. there was no stopping me.

Oh yeah, full on, snot bubbling, choking tears

I didn’t even care what I looked like. People started swerving around me-it was that bad. This lasted until around 40 minutes, and by 45 minutes, I had given up all hope of running, and walked the last mile or so home. I repeated this one other time that week, much to my disgrace and embarrassment. I survived that day, and enlisted the help of my numerous sisters to lighten the load and get things done. Thank God for sisters…and mothers. My mom was always there asking what she could do to help. My family is amazing.

This week, I can feel the stress moving further away from me, as the wedding is over, the bride and groom are happy, and everyone traveled safely back to their respective homes. I did take 3 days off from my grueling work out schedule, but I am back now, abusing my body with Kettlebell, swim, run, and bike workouts. Today was a particularly hard run, but once it was over, I celebrated my success with a trip to the farmer’s market. Fresh Raspberries will always make you feel happy to be alive.

There are so many more things to write about regarding this wedding and the visit from my family, but right now, I am still basking in the utmost satisfaction of all the love that filled my house last week. That kind of love is meant to be swallowed up and hugged tight. The memories are many, the tears still come, but they are tears of the overabundance of gratitude and unconditional love for a very large group of eccentric, silly, and wonderful people.A big THANKS to my mom and dad for having all of us!

Pardon Me, But I’m RACING Here. Running Ettiquette: Rules of the Race

Posted on March 20, 2013 by PattyRan

It’s that time of year again. SPRING. Today marks the first day of Spring, and of course in the great Northwest, Spring has announced itself with the ever-traditional Monsoon storm of storms. We expect this here, just like we know that no matter how warm and beautiful our Octobers are, we can count on Halloween being just about the worst weather on record for the entire year. (We save a lot of money on kids’ costumes, and just dress them in raincoats and boots.) When you live here, you just have to know how to buy outerwear!

Happy Spring!

Spring also marks the beginning of race season. If you are into organized races, you are probably scouring the Internet sites that advertise your favorite distance, and planning your life around training schedules, race schedules, and, oh yeah,the occasional family time.

My Irish friend Suzanne and I after the 2012 Shamrock 15k. Cold, wet, shivering, and loving every minute of it.

Last Sunday was Portland’s annual Shamrock Run. It was NOT raining, which is pretty much a miracle, and myself and 35,000+ close friends and acquaintances thought it would be a good idea to dress like goof balls, and run anywhere from 5k to a 15k, shoulder to shoulder, in the “almost” freezing temperatures. To be honest, I almost bagged the whole thing.

As you may know, I have been crawling slowly, back from an injury like many athletes do, from time to time. No matter how positive I try to be, it really does SUCK. (How’s that for motivating?) Most of my running buddies were doing the 15k and that started at 7:40 am. MY race this year was the 5k, which started at 9:20. DISCLAIMER: Since I had to sign up early in the year for this one, and it ALWAYS sells out, I chose the shortest distance, since I didn’t know if my Physical Therapist was even going to clear me for running by this time. When I woke up on Sunday, I was sore from having run 10 miles the day before. This is the furthest I have run, since starting up again a few weeks ago. So, my self talk went something like this: “It’s cold out. Your friends are all gathering early for photos and you are still home in your jammies.” “Why bother going at all? You are running by yourself.” “Just bag it, you’re sore from yesterday”…..and so on. I almost didn’t go, and then at 8:30, I slapped myself and got dressed. It was definitely cold out, but it wasn’t raining, and I didn’t know if I would ever run the Shamrock again without rain.

Getting ready to start, in my “toned down” costume.

I never remember how crowed this race actually is until I try to line up in the corral:

I was pressing flesh with throngs of green clad crazies, all gussied up in and awaiting the start time. There was a great DJ getting everyone excited, live music, bag pipes-the works. It was festive, to say the least. I started smelling trouble however, when the DJ asked “Everybody that’s here to run the Shamrock for the very first time, raise your hands”. In a split second, I realized that I was surrounded by 12,000 people and just about 11,999 of them were here for the first time. Oh God, help me.

This was my view at the start. If you look really closely, you can almost see the actual starting line archway.

Purely for sanity reasons, I decided to try and wade my way to the front section of the line. This proved to be impossible, but I gave it a gallant attempt. They started the race in waves every 30-90 seconds, and it took about 20 minutes for my wave to cross the starting line. To say that I was running at that point would be a lie. It took several blocks before I did anything that even resembled running. Here is where the etiquette lesson starts. NEWBIES, pay attention:

First off, KNOW your abilities. For Heaven’s sake, you signed up for a 5k RUN, not a 5k WALK. (For the record, there was a 5k walk and a 1k “Leprechaun Lap” for kids 12 and under and their adult companions.) Some people get all excited and sign up for these things thinking they will train,but never get around to it. Here’s the thing: while this might be a fun event, when you are walking 3 blocks after the start, holding hands 3 across, in the middle of the road, and stopping to turn around and see who’s behind you, you are causing a hazard. Before I got to the 1/2 mile mark according to my Garmin, I saw 2 people that had collapsed from exhaustion. Seriously??? Know your abilities, people, and act accordingly.

Know how to dress. Most races have groups of people in costume. I do my best to look like the biggest idiot of the bunch, because I am an attention hog, but there are rules. (Well not really-but humor me here, ok?) I think Stacey and Clinton would have a hay day with this guy:Denim Cargo shorts? Really? I’ll bet THAT felt really good going up the hill! I saw lots of great costumes, as I always do, but I’m not that good with the camera while running and dodging people.

Honor the other runners’ race. Despite your own goals or lack thereof, most seasoned runners of all levels come to a race with some kind of goal in mind. Maybe it’s the first time they will run the distance without walking. Maybe it’s a celebratory race in honor of a loved one. Maybe they are trying to PR. It doesn’t matter, just make sure that YOU are aware of those around you. I can’t tell you how many times people stopped short right in front of me on Sunday. Then there’s the groups that HAVE to stay together and spread out across the whole street. My favorite is the family that decided to hold hands in the middle of the road and walk at mile 2.9, while most everyone else was just starting to pour it on for a strong finish. So here’s the deal: If you are struggling, (and most of us do at one time or another) pull yourself over to the side of the course, and get the heck out of the way. If you walk through a water station, GREAT! Just don’t walk back into the middle of the pack with your cup and then slowly start up again. MOVE OVER. Simple rules of the road will give your running mates and yourselves a positive experience, AND reduce the risk of injury and collisions. While I’m at it, here’s a very important suggestion. At the finish line, KEEP MOVING. (Am I shouting?) Holy mother of God, I hate it when runners stop and bunch up, and start hanging out at the finish line. Do your socializing, stretching, or throwing up on the sidelines out of the way of the other people barreling through the chute.

I had been struggling a little up the hill in the second mile, mostly because of my tired legs and lungs from the previous day’s run. The entire race, I was bobbing in and out of people, running in place several times looking for a clean break, and bouncing off people at other times. didn’t really have a time goal for the Shamrock, because I’m not a 5k runner by habit, and I just wanted to have some fun and get in a few miles. But, when I looked at my watch and realized that I would have a chance to finish in under 30 minutes, I turned it on. I know I can get a little competitive when I am not keeping a lid on it, and I might have yelled at a few people in that last 1/4 mile. “Get out of my way” “Comin’ Through”, and a few more not so nice things did find their way out of my mouth. (Oops. I’ll have to work on that.) In the end, I finished in 29:54, 16th out of 302 women in my age group. I’m happy with that. It was a great day and a great race.

I left right after running because I had to go to work so I missed all the Irish music, and the huge party, but I had a wonderful walk back to my car over the Hawthorne Bridge, and managed to avoid all the downtown traffic.

I took this while walking back to my car. I just love Portland mornings.

I hope you enjoy my blog. Share with your friends and let me know what you think. Rock on runners.

Finding a Rhythm in the Blues

Posted on February 28, 2013 by PattyRan

I’ve lost my rhythm, (and another toe nail, but that gives me great joy because it reminds me that even though I am not the runner I was last year, my body still thinks I am). It only took 10 weeks, but it is gone. I didn’t even realize how important it was until now. I’ll get it back, that a guarantee, but in the meantime it does kind of suck. Rhythm is paramount in distance running.

I signed up for the Tacoma City Marathon on May 5th, before my Physical Therapist gave me the green light to run. Anticipating that the race would fill up, I HAD to secure a spot. This is the 10th anniversary celebration of the Marathon Maniacs, and there’s no way I am going to miss THAT party. Now I have 9 1/2 weeks to be ready to run 26.2 miles, and the most I have run since mid December is 4 miles. Well, the other day I ran 2 in the morning and 4 in the afternoon, so I guess you could call it 6. Have I mentioned I am also a member of the Idiot’s Running Club?

My foot is healing nicely, and most days I don’t even have pain; that is until I run. I have a few twinges here and there. PT man says that’s ok, as long as it doesn’t hurt terribly the next day. I still wonder if I will ever run pain free again. I watch other runners effortlessly floating like gazelle down the streets and paths of Portland and I long for that blissful experience. Hell, at this point I long for a 6 miler! Now, more than ever I understand why runners panic if they take more than their “scheduled” day off. This whole “starting over” thing is the pits.

Last Fall, before I realized I was systematically ripping tendons and muscles in my left foot, I read an article about Bernard Lagat, an amazing Olympian runner and world record holder. This guy is FAST! He holds records in the 3000, 1500, and the mile. At 37 years old, he is still running and winning races. What I found interesting about him, outside of his achievements, was his training schedule off season.

Source

Apparently, when Bernard is not competing, he takes off 5 weeks and does nothing! I was shocked to read this! I remember thinking, “Wow, this guy is nuts. Who has the discipline and confidence to do that every year and then get back into race form to go on and break records? Well, he IS just a child at 37. (Yeah right) Anyway, I thought there was no way I would take time off between races. When you’ve trained for 5 months for a marathon, why slack off? You’re already THERE for crap’s sake, so just keep running, right? Well, maybe for some people but not for those of us too stupid to see the signs of injury.

So here I am re-reading the article about my couch potato buddy Bernard, and learning that he takes time to be lazy. He rests for 5 weeks and pigs out, gaining up to eight pounds. HA! Of course if I gained eight pounds, there’s be no living with me, so while I may have shifted my flab during this sabbatical, it hasn’t amounted to more than two or three pound weight gain. The Wall Street Journal article goes on to say that when he starts his training again:

“Lagat said it takes some time to work himself back into shape, but that is part of the process. A 30-minute jog on his first day back can leave him doubled over, short of breath. By week three, he can go for a 10-mile jog in 55 minutes. “I never push myself feeling like I should be in shape right away,” he said. “I know I have time.”

Now I know I have a friend in Bernard Lagat. For what it’s worth, I am trying to learn that I am not YET able to run a quick 10 miles before work whenever I want. My weekend “long” run might only be 5-6 miles this week. It might hurt. I might tire. I WILL curse. But I will continue to run, and like a good girl, I will ONLY push past the limits my PT gives me just a smidgen. Patience has never been one of my strong points. (see Patience from January 27,2013) I want it and I want it yesterday. Ho Hum. I will channel Bernard and all the other athletes that take time off due to shifts in training, injury, or personal preference. I will remember that it does take time to build endurance and muscle memory so that I can run injury free, strong, and with rhythm.

Besides the physical rhythm of running, or cadence, there is a rhythm of the mind that is a key component to distance running. If you can’t settle into a comfortable mental state while attempting 2-4 hours of running, then you are pretty much screwed. I had this NAILED last year. Now I am all over the place during my 30-45 minute runs. Getting this back will take some concentrated effort on my part. Maybe I need to switch to decaf.

The other rhythm that is a little off these days is my heart. I still don’t know what the scoop is, and I am waiting for the results of my recent 48 hour heart monitor test. Oh, that was fun. Check out the contraption I had to wear for two days. Can you just picture trying to hide that under clothes? And you can’t shower. I worked out three times while wearing this thing, and let me tell you, sponge baths are for the birds! So these days there are so many things that remind me of my age, and I’m getting really sick of it. Injuries, heart palpitations, grey hair, insomnia, and hot flashes can all kiss my ass.

I have been poked, pricked, and prodded, trying to keep this bod going, and a little bit of “distraction” will not stop me. I’ll plow through this momentary lapse and be back in no time running races in goofy costumes, and collecting finisher’s medals, because that’s what I do to keep my sanity and my dress size.

What have you done to overcome an injury and push through your mental challenges?

Have a Heart (But Don’t Take Mine)

Posted on February 14, 2013 by PattyRan

On Valentine’s Day, hearts are everywhere. Chocolate mostly, although I did actually see a bacon heart this morning on Facebook. For the record, I think bacon smells good, but I would never eat it.

THIS is more like it.

Speaking of hearts, I had an interesting thing happen to mine this week. It’s funny how, when you are in your 50’s, you start thinking about keeping yourself on this planet a little longer, and paying attention to “little things”. When I was in my 20’s and 30’s, I never thought about stuff like blood pressure, pulse, cholesterol, and all those boring things old people talked about.

This past weekend, I was laying in bed and felt a strange sensation in my chest, like there was a fish flopping around in there. It lasted a few seconds and then stopped. A few minutes later, it happened again. Being the dutiful Catholic that I am, I said an Our Father, and an Act of Contrition, just in case I didn’t wake up in the morning. I didn’t really think I was having a heart attack, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. As it turned out, I did wake up, went about my day, and that was that. Until it happened two more times. Then once again, while watching TV the next night, that flounder was back in there, flopping around. I mentioned it to my husband, who, glued to the TV as usual, grunted something and held his blank stare at the flat screen. Deciding that I needed something to drink, I got up and wooohooo, the dizziness hit and I floated across the floor, like a drunk, all the while, watching the little stars blinking, and the blackness closing in. I managed not to pass out, and continued my evening of TV watching.

Just before bed, the old lady in me-the one that has turned into a hypochondriac, decided to email the doctor, just ‘cuz. I managed to wake up alive the next morning and received a call from the Dr’s office, telling me to come in today. Ho Hum. OK, sure, fine.

Fast forward to the appointment. My regular doctor was off that day, so I had the “pleasure” of seeing a first year intern. No offense to this guy but really? What, are you 12?

Doogie had the technician take my vitals sitting, standing, and laying down….three times. They did an EKG, and low and behold, aside from a First degree AV Block, which I already knew about from a previous EKG, there was nothing unusual or concerning. The doctor asked me if there had been any changes to my life recently that might be a contributing factor to these episodes. Normally at this stage of an exam, with my regular fantastic doctor, I would have had a chance to discuss what is going on in my life, the stress issues, my injury that has prevented me from running for 9 weeks, female issues, daughter getting married stress, how my big toe hurts, the migraine I had last week; you know-normal stuff. But this guy didn’t want to hear any of it. For some reason he decided he wanted to focus on how much I drink and what kind of drugs I take. I told him that I regularly enjoy a glass of wine at night and that can mean anywhere between 1 to 3 glasses, but that several weeks ago, after the holidays were over and I was taking hold of my senses again, I had curtailed my alcohol intake by about 80%. He then said that “Sometimes in people with such excessive alcohol consumption, withdrawal can cause these symtoms. I looked at him like he had three heads. Then he asked me what type of stimulants I was taking. This is when I started getting pissed. I sat up and looked him straight in his teenage eyes and said. “One or two cups of English Breakfast Tea per day.” He didn’t seem amused and asked me to hold my hands out in front of me. He wanted to see if I was having tremors. Now, I have a good a sense of humor as anyone, but this was not funny anymore. Who IS this guy? I attempted to “gently” explain to him that I am not a heavy drinker, I do not take ANY drugs or daily medications, I work out 5-6 days per week, currently swimming a mile or more per week, bike 30+ miles per week, PLUS work out at a kettlebell gym twice per week. When running, I routinely run 35-40 miles each week, AND I run my own successful business. I eat primarily vegetarian and seafood meals, and don’t eat a lot of junk, plus I drink somewhere between 30-60 ounces of water each day.

At this time he suggested that I wear a 30 day heart monitor so they can track whether or not I have recurring symtoms, and evaluate them. He left the room and asked the tech to do my vitals again…sitting, standing, and laying down. By now, I felt like I WAS going to have a heart attack. For the record, my blood pressure was something like 90/60 and my resting pulse was <60. It didn’t change much in the three times they checked. I had a feeling by now, however that they were going to be higher. (They weren’t)

While the tech was checking these things, she said the doctor wanted me to fill out a questionnaire, because apparently they thought I was crazy and suicidal.

After filling this out I asked the tech to go get the doctor and ask him if I could do a 48 hour heart monitor as opposed to the 30 day one. I was trying to imagine wearing this wirey, bulky contraption in the pool, or while swinging a kettlebel, while wearing my business clothes, or anything else for that matter. A short time later, the baby doc returns with a more mature, seasoned doctor, and I thought, “Thank God she’s here to change his diaper and let me go home.”

She started out just wonderful! She explained my AV block in such a way that I fully understood it, and also explained the symptoms I was having, and how they are very common, bla, bla, bla. Just as I was about to pull out my car keys and leave, she stopped, got all serious, and said, “But more importantly, I want to talk to you about your excessive alcohol abuse.” I really thought Ashton Kutcher would pop in at any moment with the “Punked” crew. I thought about arguing with her, but then she would probably think that was the alcoholic talking, so I just shut up and nodded. I had had enough. I guess they must have just had some kind of seminar on substance abuse and their reticular activators were on hyper alert!

I managed to leave there with a smidgen of dignity, WITHOUT the heart monitor, because they were out of stock, and went home. I vented my frustration with this experience to numerous people and went on with my life. I am waiting to speak with my regular doctor, to see if she wants me to wear the monitor. I will be a good girl and listen to her. I will not let prepubescent medical residents examine me in the future. I will continue to be an ADHD, running obsessed maniac. AND, I will find ways to manage my stress.

I think I will start with a nice Valentine Lobster dinner and a glass of La Crema Chardonnay

Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope it’s a good one. Take great care of your health.

What Snot to Love?

Posted on February 7, 2013 by PattyRan

I just love it when I am talking to someone and a bucket full of water and snot suddenly propels itself out of my nose. Now that I am swimming and training for a Sprint Triathlon, I am having flashbacks of my youth swim team and lifeguard training.

I am proud to have control over most of my bodily functions, but my “swimmer’s nose” just laughs at me and runs down my face at will. It’s one of the ways I am forced to be humble, I guess. Trust me, nothing says, “Consummate Professional”, like a spontaneous expulsion! If I were an Olympic swimmer, I’d be much more able to get away with it.

Poor Ian.

Oh well, back to me. So, now that I am training for my first Triathlon, I am spending two to three days working out in a pool. This increases the chance of my snot rocket surprises by up to 30% each week, for those of you that don’t have mad math skills. I am a very efficient swimmer. I know how to breathe in and out through my nose and mouth while swimming. So why does this happen, and what can be done about it? Experts vary on the reasons and remedies, but they all agree that irritants, allergies, and bacteria are among the common causes.

Germaphobe that I am, I shutter to think about what I am exactly ingesting while swimming in that community pool. I know people sweat, spit, and God knows what else in public pools, but I have always considered the chlorine (which of course is a poison) would take care of that. I recently read that Olympic swimmers admit to peeing in pools all the time. Nice. For the record I have never done this! You are safe to share a lane with me.

The good news is that, if I get all snotty while swimming or afterwards, at least I know that it is because I am working out. I am off my butt, making an effort to get this body moving, in any way that it can. It takes effort and dedication to convince yourself that it is a good idea to put on a bathing suit in the middle of winter when you are pasty white and it is cold, dark, and raining out, and drive yourself to a pool, so that you can take that first chilly plunge.

My advice? Get out there and do it. Swimming is one of the best ways to start or enhance your fitness routine. The first few days may be tough as you adjust to the water, the newness of your heart pounding, and the shortness of breath. In a few days, you will be amazed at how quickly your endurance improves. Just keep in mind that tissues should always be on hand. Or, buy a nose clip-I hear that can help.

See you in the deep end.

Patience, you say?

Posted on January 27, 2013 by PattyRan

Runners can be very impatient people. I wasn’t exactly born with the “Patience” gene. This is not a revelation to me, however, as I get older, it is increasingly more frustrating.

So here I am, 7 weeks into Physical Therapy, NOT RUNNING,after ripping a few tendons and a muscle because I didn’t want to be a good girl and listen to my body. All runners hurt, don’t they? “This must be normal.”, I thought. (Well, not really, but somewhere deep down, I kept thinking the pain was going to stop if I just kept icing, heating, elevating, etc. Dumb idea.)

Oh yeah, this is what I did after long runs while I blow dried my hair. Before I went running, I’d soak my foot in this pot full of hot water. Then I’d add ice when I got home. Don’t worry, I washed it out before I made my famous home made soup!

I was anxious to stay on my 5 day per week running routine, but you’d think the fact that I was limping constantly, wincing while training, and eating Ibuprofen like breath mints, I would suspect something was not right.

My Physical Therapist told me that I needed to find something to “feed the beast” while not running. Haha, I love how he “got” me right off the bat. He said I could swim, bike, and walk. It was December in Oregon. Running in the cold, wind, and rain I can do. But, bike? Swim? Seriously? Sigh. OK, well I’ll give it a try.

My first bike ride started out as a disaster. The tires on my much neglected bike were flat, it was covered in cob webs, and I couldn’t figure out how to use the bike pump. After 3 attempts, I finally got the tires somewhat full of air, and hopped on, hoping to feel the thrill of the wind in my helmeted hair. I started pedaling, and WHAP, the chain fell off, my foot spun around, and I fell flat on my driveway.Thankfully, I was clothed in so many layers, that I came away physically unscathed. A few curses later, I fixed the chain and off I went. It was 40 degrees out and I was already sweating from the effort and frustration of simply getting out of my driveway.
I ended up having so much fun on the 9 mile ride and even thought, “wow ,I AM in great shape; I barely felt that!” I sang along with my ipod, with wild abandon. “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger”, Oh Yeah, baby, watch out for me. Woohooo.I’m a CYCLIST!

Fast forward to the next day, and I could barely lower myself to a chair or toilet without grunting in pain. OK, well pain is good. LOL, I seem to love it. If you’re going to exercise outdoors in the Great Northwest, you have to be prepared for all types of weather. I have great all weather running gear, but CYCLING GEAR?

Yep, that’s me on New Year’s Day, wearing ski bib overalls, snow boots, countless layers of dry fit, fleece, and a water proof jacket, plus numerous neck and head coverings. I needed the basket to carry all the discarded clothing, as I warmed up along my ride. Hey, after all the money I have spent on running gear, I wasn’t about to jump down the money pit and do it in the bike shop….yet.

So, back to the patience thing. My second bike ride that week was when I decided to ride to my PT appointment. I mapped it and saw that it was approximately 9 miles from home. Not having stellar math skills, I thought, “Oh, I can probably do that in about 30 minutes. Don’t even TRY to figure why I thought that. I tried to leave a little early just in case, and after donning lots of layers and even packing a change of socks, shoes, and gloves in a plastic bag, I headed out. It was a cold 39 degrees, and by the time I got to the end of my block, it had started to rain. Hmmm, for about a nano-second, I thought about turning around and getting my car, but then I was worried it would take too much time and the clock was ticking! 10 minutes into the ride, it was now pouring, I was freezing, and I knew I was going to be seriously late. When I finally made it to the Springwater Corridor-the bike path that follows the Willamette River, I was pushing those pedals as fast as I could, but the frigid rain and wind was a killer. I could see downtown Portland, and knew I was close, so I gave it everything I had, all the while screaming at myself for being such an idiot.( There were a lot of bad words in my “self talk” on that ride.)

I finally arrived with rain pouring off of my and walked my bike into the facility. They had a bike rack inside, and the nice receptionist helped me stand my bike in it, and then I proceeded to try and peel my gloves, helmet, and extra clothes off. The only problem was that my feet were numb, my frozen snot was leaking, and my hands were too cold to unsnap my helmet. What a sight. I managed to survive, thawed out, and begged God for mercy for the ride home. Luckily, I had brought the extra dry clothes and shoes, and when I left, the rain had stopped, it was a tad bit warmer, and the ride home was a blast.

I learned a tough lesson that day. Think before you act. I know, that sounds really elementary, but when you roll like I do, you pretty much DO, and then think. I laughed about this experience once I knew that I would live through it. That’s the trick to this whole thing. With new experiences, you are going to make mistakes. Don’t beat yourself up about what you did wrong, or not perfectly right. For me, I look back and say, “Wow, I rode my bike 18 miles in the dead of winter, in Portland, Oregon, in the rain, in 39 degree temperature, with a bad ankle, at 53 years old, after not having ridden a bike for several years. THAT, I could celebrate.

Running in Muck

Running Through What Life Throws At You

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