Tapering like “The Dude”

Last night the garage door opener broke when we got home from our trip to Albuquerque. I asked my husband if he could fix it, secretly wishing that he’d turn into MacGyver so I wouldn’t need to call a repairman in the morning.

But neither he nor the door budged.

He simply disconnected it so we could open and shut it manually.

My husband proceeded to unload the car, then himself in front of the TV where he watched football until it was time to eat.

I, meanwhile, unpacked my bag and the children’s bags, started two loads of laundry, picked up around the kitchen, and made dinner for everyone.

It then occurred to me: MacGyver my husband ain’t, but he sure knew how to channel “The Dude” from “The Big Lebowski” without the beer and bongs.

And MacGyver He Ain’t (aka, my husband) certainly had “tapering” down. Tapering is the recovery period before you run a marathon where you cut down your mileage a lot, eat more, and wind down before the race so you can have the stamina and push to go the whole distance. 

In short: you get to be lazy before you work very hard.

“The Dude” from “The Big Lebowski”  appears to be in a perpetual state of “tapering” minus any marathons in sight. 

Motherhood, however, weakens one’s “tapering muscles.”

I find there are always more miles to run, children to feed and dress, soccer games to shuttle someone to, writing work to squeeze in between school drop-offs, dust bunnies in the corners and mail piles the size of mountains, laundry to be washed, groceries to be bought, dinners to be cooked, etc,, etc.

You get the picture.

My husband can rattle off NFL stats and stock market data from his job. 

I know the characters from “The Puppy Place” series my second-grader reads from volunteering in her classroom.

MacGyver He Ain’t makes no pretenses about to-do lists like me. In fact, his version of being handy is pulling out the checkbook.

This doesn’t mean he does not rise to the occasion when needed or isn’t a decent guy. He is. In fact, when Tarzan, our 4-year-old, got carsick on the ride home from Albuquerque he cleaned out the barf-mobile while I hosed down the poor kid.

But let’s face it: the dust bunnies and paper piles will always be there. I can’t help but think that as I prepare for Denver Rock N Roll Marathon this weekend, perhaps I should take my tapering more “seriously” and channel my inner “Dude” from “Lebowski” like my husband?

Just don’t ask me to watch football or learn any NFL stats.

Or fix the garage door opener either. …

Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let’s go.

Mileage today: 3; Denver to Boston miles logged 702; Miles left to go: 1,068

When pigs fly

This is my second balloon blog from Albuquerque, N.M., where my family and I are now.

“Albu-quirky” is a good place to taper before a marathon as long as you don’t overdo it on the cheese, chile and margaritas.

And where else can you see pigs fly at 7 a.m., along with a 40-foot-wide SpongeBob, Darth Vader, and Pepe La Pew?

This morning’s mass ascension at the Balloon Fiesta looked like a giant toy mobile floating above our heads with hundreds of hot-air balloons of every shape, size and color. 

My favorites are the special shapes like the ones I mentioned earlier. Some of the crew members for the Darth Vader balloon team dressed up like Storm Troopers and Sand People. (You gotta like that.)

Cool shapes included: a Russian nesting doll, a Pepsi can, the Wells Fargo stagecoach, a family of bees and Smokey Bear. (And, yes, it is Smokey Bear, not Smokey the Bear. This symbol was named after a cub rescued from a wildfire in New Mexico. You learn such things from living here.) 

It’s been great to run and play tourist near a place where I used to live. (I spent 11 years in Santa Fe before I moved to Denver.) 

New Mexico makes you a hearty runner as you find every terrain here, from the flats along the Rio Grande, to the La Luz trail run — a nine-mile, 4,000-foot ascent up to Sandia Peak. (Once you survive it, you, too, can call yourself a “La Luzer.”)

Some of my other favorite races in New Mexico include The Santa Fe Run Around 5K/10K, the Baylor Pass Trail Run in Las Cruces and the Taos Half Marathon.

I could go on and on about New Mexico but I will wrap it up quick today as I’m on a hotel computer until I get home. I plan on sharing more about running in “The Land of Enchantment” in my future posts. 

Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let’s go.

Mileage today: 4; Denver to Boston miles logged: 699; Miles left to go: 1,071.  

Run from the Zoo?

Today I ran my last long before my marathon next week in Albuquerque, N.M. My husband, children and I are here for a family gathering and to attend the Balloon Fiesta.

Running along the Rio Grande again brought back memories of all the races I used to do when I lived in New Mexico, B.C. — before children. One of my favorites was the Run for the Zoo 5K. It ended at the Albuquerque Zoo and we went there today.

Near the end of our day, Tarzan, my wild child, lived up to his name and threw a jungle-sized tantrum — the kind that makes every stranger within a five-mile radius stare at you as though you are the worst parent on the planet.

Suddenly I no longer wanted to ever “Run for the Zoo” again, I just wanted to run from it and him.
 
It’s in these moments, when your child goes publicly ballistic, you want to scream and blame it on someone or something else, say, your husband’s half of the gene pool.

But you can’t. Tarzan is mine, too, and it’s my job to teach him how to adjust to this world, and especially to disappointments. That’s what prompted this particular meltdown.

Instead, it was a teaching moment for us both. Sometimes we all want to pitch fits when things don’t go our way. That’s how I felt when I tried to qualify for Boston those first two times but I failed.

We have to find better, more productive ways to deal with disappointments or our failures will get the better of us. If we can learn from these situations good things can come from them.

Life is about going forward, I explained to Tarzan in terms he could grasp after I disciplined him, then wiped his tears away with a hug and kiss. By the time we left I was ready to reclaim my son and my life. I felt clear headed again and I didn’t need to run away from him or anything else anymore. 

Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let’s go.

Mileage today: 8; Denver to Boston miles logged 695; Miles left to go 1075.

Motivation, Part III: 26.2 reasons to run

“Jane,” my 8-year-old daughter, finished a marathon this week.

Unlike me she did it over several weeks, not in a day. I am very proud of her. 

She participated in a program at her school to combat childhood obesity and promote fitness. The children ran 1.5 miles together, twice a week, for several weeks, until they logged 25 miles.

They will run the last 1.2 miles at a local amusement park and get free admission and a finisher’s medal.
 
Jane did it because she likes roller coaster rides and being with her friends. I don’t blame her.

Many of us begin to run for similar reasons. Perhaps it comes from a nudge from a friend, “Hey, let’s do our first 5K together.” 

Or maybe it’s to shape up again.

Whatever the reason for the motivation it’s best to start with baby steps and small, achievable goals. That’s how success builds. Then over time we feel as though we can move mountains, or better yet, run up them. (Yes, I’ve done a few those and so have some of my friends.)

In coach-speak (I got my RRCA running coach certification a few weeks ago — yippee!!), we call these initial incentives “outcome goals.”  They are specific and measurable from the outside, things like finishing your first 5K, placing in your age group, running a marathon under four hours or qualifying for the Boston Marathon.

We’re also motivated by “performance goals.” These tend to be more in control within us regardless of how we place at a race. Some examples include making a point to thank race volunteers along the way, finishing with friends and with a smile on our faces, running a course evenly and feeling good at the finish. 

Another example is focusing on 26 people in your life for each mile of a marathon the way Kristen Armstrong wrote about in Runner’s World.

The best (and most inspiring) performances, I believe, come from merging both — performance and outcome goals. That’s when you are no longer chasing grace but living it.

I hope this happens when my friend Pam and I run the Boston Marathon together next April. She’s run Boston before but when she did it she said she was so focused on the outcome she didn’t get to enjoy the experience of Boston fully. Our outcome goal will be to finish the race, but our performance goal will be to high-five the spectators along the way and take in the grandeur that can only be the Boston Marathon.

Like Jane I will be thrilled to ride that roller-coaster ride of sorts and I want it to be magical for us both.

Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let’s go.

Mileage today: 7; Denver to Boston miles logged: 687; Miles left to go: 1,083.

Motivation, Part II: Skinny genes

I’ll always remember the summer I was 12 years old because it was before I hit puberty and it was the last time I had skinny legs and could wear skinny jeans — ever.

Wearing shorts has never been the same for me since. 

And as for skinny jeans today? My not-so-skinny genes pass on them, thank you very much.

In my dreams I run like a Runner’s World cover girl with lithe limbs as slender as asparagus stalks.

In real life it doesn’t matter how much I run, or what I eat, or what the scale says — my large thighs and muscled legs look like they belong to a male German shot-putter.

Running, at least, keeps my lower half from ballooning into the size of, say, Montana. I discovered this in my late teens, and I’ve been hooked ever since.

Yes, it’s true. My motivation for first running started out of vanity. Thankfully over the years other good things came from it.  

Running improved my health and general well-being. It prompted me to complete my first races and achieve memorable goals. It brought dear friends into my life and even love and happiness. My husband and I first met at an organized run. 

Yes, running has kept the girth of my thighs in check (mostly), but, better yet, it’s improved my outlook on the world.

Sure, it would be nice if my thighs shrank, but as I’ve grown older my motivation is no longer just about wearing a size 2.  Instead I choose to focus on how empowered I feel each time I step out the door — my body strong, my heart grateful and my soul fortified. 

This is what keeps me motivated today and what I believe will carry me into the future. The heck with my not-so-skinny genes. There’s more to beauty than in the thighs of the beholder anyway.
 
Tomorrow I’ll discuss the nitty-gritty of outcome and performance goals and how they tie together with motivation.

Aging is inevitable, but growing is old is a choice. Lace up your shoes and let’s go.

Mileage today: 5; Denver to Boston miles logged: 680; Miles left to go: 1,090.  

Motivation, Part I: Schwag-a-delic

Patty, my sister-in-law, has a finisher’s medal from the Disneyland Half Marathon that I swear she must have stolen from a gangsta rapper. Seriously, it’s so big it could use its own zip code. 

Let’s face it: Elite runners run for the prize money and gold medals. The rest of us mere mortals find our motivation wherever we can.

For Patty, it’s about bling. One year she and I ran the Nike Women’s Half Marathon in San Francisco so we could score silver Tiffany necklaces. Men dressed in tuxedos handed them out at the finish. The event also included technical Tees and freebies such as food, makeup and hair ties.

Another friend of mine recently won her age group at a local 5K because of a store promotion. This boutique retailer advertised that if you won a race wearing one of their outfits plus a bib number and brought in a picture of it, they would give you free clothes — kaching!!

The Skirt Chaser 5K races around the country include skorts for all participants. The Surf City Marathon (Huntington Beach, California) gives away surfboard-shaped finisher medals.

Great schwag makes the miles fun and can push you to the finish.

In the next few posts I’ll talk about what motivates me and other runners I’ve met.

Before I go I’d also like to give a virtual shout-out to the Colorado Columbines’ Distance Divas who ran the St. George Marathon today. Jane Potter, whom I profiled in an earlier blog, qualified again for the Boston Marathon at age 62, and several others set PRs. Congrats to Jane and everyone who ran — you rock!!

Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes and let’s go.

Mileage today: 15; Denver to Boston miles logged: 675; Miles left to go: 1,095.