The first thing he did was throw a Jurassic Park-sized tantrum over a Krispy Kreme doughnut.

I’m not kidding. He took no prisoners.

I bought Krispy Kremes for Tarzan and Jane (a rare treat) a few days ago and I made a point of dividing them equally. Tarzan finished his last doughnut the day before and this morning he wanted me to short Jane and give him the last one.

“I hate you,” Tarzan screamed at me when I didn’t relent, “You lie. You don’t love me.”

Fighting words for a kindergartner … and all over stupid, artery-clogging fried dough.

(I guess that will teach me for buying glazed goods …)

He exhausted the better part of an hour yelling, crying, demanding his way. He woke up his sister, refused to get dressed, or cooperate, or eat anything else, and kept screaming.

I thought I was going to lose my marbles.

Thank God kindergarten drop-off arrived by noon and I ran today.

Before kindergarten a neighbor took Tarzan for a play date with her son. (We trade off and help each other regularly.)  I could have kissed her when Tarzan went to her house today. She and a guardian angel out there saved me.

I worked while he gone. I picked Tarzan up right before noon, gave him lunch and took him to school.

Once he was gone again … I ran out my frustrations with him… hard.

I ran and I prayed … for a reason to be grateful again because today motherhood felt like punishment, not grace.

A friend of mine, another mom with a challenging child, summarized it perfectly the other day when we were chatting. Sometimes you get a “plus-kid” — the kind who no matter what you do or how many times you set boundaries the child demands more, more, more … of you.

Such moments remind me of that scene in “Jurassic Park” where the raptors peck at the fence, looking for weaknesses to break down.

I can no sooner let my guard down before Tarzan’s off testing my mettle, patience and sanity.

The good side is, if I can channel his tenacity into something positive he’s going to be an incredible young man some day. (Please God, help me do it.)

Recently I read a book, “A Thousand Gifts,” by Ann Voskamp. In it she challenges herself to journal a thousand gifts of gratitude in her own life, referring to eucharisteo — “giving thanks” in Greek. (It’s also where the phrase, Eucharist, derives.)

Her observations are deeply moving and spiritual. She has an exquisite command of language and imagery — a “writer’s writer” who polishes phrases into jewels.

Anyway, my point is Voskamp, the author, is a farmer’s wife who home-schools six children (I think I’d be shooting staples into my forehead if that were me, especially after today) and she’s able to identify all this gratitude in her life, in the big and the small ways, in the beautiful and the tragic, and yes, even when her children drive her nuts like Tarzan did with me today. It’s an incredible read.

As I ran today I hunted and pecked, raptor-style, for my own lost gratitude.

I began to count and create my own “runner’s eucharisteo” — the large and small gifts, extraordinary and everyday — brought into my life.

1. The warm sun on my face.
2. The Colorado Rockies in the distance.
3. The tranquility after the emotional “storms” (such as today’s)
4. Time alone with my thoughts, able to hash things out.
5. The endless blue skies above me and the slight golden changing of the leaves.
6. The sweat on my body (cleansing away my anger)
7. My Dayglo-yellow water bottles I carry on my fuel belt.
8. The delicious taste of cold water on my parched lips.
9. The friend who watched my son today while I worked.
10. A body fit enough to keep moving forward (and that took me to the Boston Marathon).
11. The sound of my feet striding on dirt and pavement.
12. People who read this blog and cheer me on.
13. The smile and waves of people on my path today.
14. Running partners and friendships.
15. My digital running buddies on Dailymile.com and Facebook.
16. Getting to witness other athlete’s stories, hard work and progress.
17. Feeling my muscles work hard and push.
18. Looking down at my Garmin and the surprise of seeing I’m faster (or slower) than I thought.
19. Enjoying a hot shower after a run.
20. The smell of cut grass by the golf course along my path.

I hope you see where I’m going with this … the gratitude began to drain away my anger and replaced it with … ta-da … joy!

Eucharisteo, runner’s style, pulled me out from the morning’s muck.

21. The fortitude to nurture a little boy with a penchant for pushing boundaries.
22. Participating in Kids Running America — a running program at my children’s school.
23. Running downhill, holding Tarzan’s hand, during a recent Kids Running America session.
24. Accepting his apology later today.
25. The strength to move past Krispy Kremes and Tarzan-o-saurus Rex. (Next time, however, I’ll pass on buying doughnuts.)

The day is over now and I have much more to be thankful for, then not.

A runner’s eucharisteo — I’m sure I could count to a thousand on my own list.

Can you?

Give it a try.

###

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

Mileage today; 7; Mileage since 602.1

If so, you are not alone, which is the point of this Boston or Botox midweek wellness topic: Mindful Hydration.

It’s easy to flub this one. We all have work, family, or children, busy lives. We operate on overload and reach for that Diet Coke or something else fast instead of H20.

Few people I know are true human Super Soakers from the inside when it comes to consuming enough water.

I know I often find myself sporadically sipping water throughout the day. The problem with that is 1) you don’t get enough water; and 2) you don’t realize how dehydrate you actually are until it’s too late.

A water deficiency comes about like any other debt we create in our lives (Credit cards, anyone?). Usually it creeps up on you gradually (a Starbucks a day on the plastic) until collectively you’re in the hole.

Suddenly one day you find yourself dry-mouthed, skin parched and running lousy (or maybe dropping $100-plus a month on Skinny Lattes, which bloats your checkbook).

Chronic water loss, H2, uh-oh, is especially true with hydration and running or other endurance sports. It requires you get the eight times eight ounces of water that’s recommended, plus more for the fluids you sweat.

Here’s another common mistake many athletes make on top of that: You still need to hydrate in the cooler or winter months, not just when it’s hot. In the winter the water loss and sweat may not seem as obvious but it’s there. We wear more layers of clothing running, which still makes us sweat, and we spend our days more in the dry, heated indoors — also dehydrating.

Dehydration comes with consequences (yes, the runner’s equivalent of penalty points on the plastic): You potentially run slower,
run shorter, and, as anyone who’s run dehydrated knows, you feel crappy running.

Two and a half years ago, when I ran my first marathon again after a decade hiatus I overdressed for the race, overheated and didn’t drink enough — classic rookie moves but I learned from it.


This is why I’m issuing this running coach challenge to myself and offering up to you, too: Mindful hydration for the next 30 days to create a better, healthy habit and life.

My strategy, which I’ve already been testing, is to carry this Colorado Rockies bottle (shown above) with me at all meals and after workouts. It’s filled to the 16-ounce mark and I am putting myself on a water-drinking schedule.

16 ounces when I wake up in the morning to rev the metabolism
16 ounces with breakfast
16 ounces with lunch
16 ounces with dinner

If I workout or run I drink up to an additional 16 ounces.

I feel better, I’m eating healthier and I don’t crave as much junk, I’m sleeping better, and there’s less fog on my brain when I work and write.

I’m on Week Two of an 18-week training plan for the Charleston Marathon (Jan. 14) and so far, so good.
Yesterday I ran 8 miles, including 4 X 1600 repeats at an 8-minute-per-mile pace, 800 jogs in between, and hit them all a tad faster, negatively splitting each 1600 as I went.

I believe Mindful Hydration is making a difference.

Now I know what you might be thinking, “Duh, isn’t drinking enough water all the time obvious?”

Yes, indeed it is. Here’s the kicker though: Often the basic solutions in life aren’t complex but that doesn’t mean we follow them. The challenge is in the consistency and execution. That’s why I’m calling this “The Mindful Hydration 30-day Challenge.”

Want to make this or any other change? Plug in your mind and body together, and if needed, WRITE IT DOWN, too — this is where the miracle of consciousness and transformation begins.

Attached is a Runner’s World article that supports “Mindful Hydration” and discusses the consequences of dehydration: Sipping Points.

If this challenge speaks to you, join me. You can borrow my method or create your own.


Salud and happy striding and sipping!

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

“Chum is fum!”

Boston Profile #16: Julie Ray — A teacher becomes the student

It’s never too late to learn how to improve and a great coach can make a big difference.

Those are two lessons Boston qualifier #16, Julie Ray, learned a few years ago when she qualified for Boston in 2009.

Ray is a high-school English teacher from Portland, Oregon, and she
also coaches high-school cross country with national-level coach Andrew Begley.

Begley is talented himself and was an All-American runner in high school and college.

Begley is married to Olympic distance runner Amy Yoder Begley, who trains with Alberta Salazar.

It was Begley who changed Ray’s running when she agreed to have him coach her.

“My friend Tina and I joked that we would just wait until we got
older, when the qualifying times got easier, and then we’d try to
qualify,” said Ray, who had finished three marathons in about 4 hours
time.

She said the idea of qualifying was always in the back of her mind but she never took it seriously until she worked with Begley.

Ray mentioned “her plan” one day casually in front of him. He turned
to her in seriousness and told her, “If you want to qualify for Boston, I
can get you there. You can do it.”

Ray agreed. Begley took her under his wing, writing her a marathon training plan and began to coach her.

Ray said although she had coached cross country athletes and been a
runner herself for about 10 years, she had never done the kind of
running he asked her to do.

For the first time Ray was doing speed work, tempo runs and longer midweek runs, too.

All the training Begley gave had her a purpose and was much more diversified than what she had been doing.

Ray said she was training harder than she had for her previous marathons or other races.

When her next marathon rolled around Ray made a huge leap. She ran
the Marine Corp Marathon in Washington, D.C. and shaved 17 minutes off,
qualifying for Boston in 3:45:46.

“I was thrilled,” Ray, 43, said.

A teacher herself for 21 years she said it made her a believer in the power of a good teacher/coach.

“I went, for example, from running a half marathon in about 1 hour,
55 minutes, to running them in about 1 hour, 42 minutes,” she said. “I’m
still training with Andrew, and now I often place in my age group at
races. It’s remarkable.”

Begley continued to coach her when she ran Boston in 2010, and she ran a
faster time there, 3:44:54: even with two bathroom stops included.

“There is nothing like the crowd support at Boston. It’s an amazing experience,” she said.

Boston is “the people’s Olympics” for so many, she added. Most of us
will never be true Olympians or professional athletes, but Boston’s
qualifying standards and history, and the goal of getting there gives
everyday runners something great to achieve.

Ray is training to run another marathon in October, again under
Begley’s guidance. She said she hopes to break 3 hour, 40 minutes.
Eventually she’d love to run a marathon in 3 hours, 35 minutes.

The training has been grueling at times, but it’s taught her she can run tougher than she thought she could.

Ray said she’s very happy with her goals and training, and she owes
to what happened to her when she qualified for and ran Boston, and the
transformation that followed with Begley’s help.

“You just can’t beat the Boston experience,” Ray said.

###

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

Mileage today: 4; Mileage since Boston: 406.1.

Permalink: bostonorbotox.com/2011/08/08/boston-profile-16-julie-ray—-a-teacher-becomes-the-student.aspx

Boston Profile #17: Cindy Warner — a late-bloomer

Some people are all or nothing types … the kind who when they put their minds to something they go whole hog or not at all.

“I just felt like running …”
— Forrest Gump

There … I went and did it again … serial marathoning, that is.

I signed up for the Charleston Marathon, Jan. 14, with a group of girlfriends from the Distance Divas.

Why Charleston, you might ask?

Rhett Butler from “Gone With the Wind” was from Charleston. Isn’t that reason enough?

OK, I’m kidding … Rhett wasn’t the reason, although I did read the “Gone With the Wind” enough times to know Rhett says “his people” are from Charleston in it.

The real scoop is one of the gals in our Distance Divas running group, Carol, has a goal of running a half marathon (or marathon) in all 50 states. She’s getting close to hitting them all. South Carolina is one of the last on her list. She told one of our mutual friends about Charleston, and word spread. Before I knew it I was on the band wagon, too.

It will be a girl’s weekend and marathon #8 for me. Beyond that I’m borrowing from another famous, fictional, fleet-footed Southerner, not Rhett Butler, but Forrest Gump.

Remember when Forrest Gump runs across the country repeatedly and reporters ask why he’s doing it?

Is it for world peace? The homeless? Some other grand notion?

“I just felt like running …” he tells them (slurring his Southern syllables a mile long).

No, I don’t have any fancy reasoning either for doing this race.

I just feel like running …

Why not do it? I’ve never been to Charleston. I hear it’s a lovely place.

Unlike Boston, which is 115 years old, Charleston is a “young marathon.” This will be the second time the organizers have staged it. The website for Charleston contains a course map but no course elevation profile. Charleston is at sea level. Other than that I have no idea what else I am getting myself into beyond the 26.2 miles of any other marathon.

This is a
complete departure from my mind set last year when I trained
for and ran Boston. (That’s a picture of me
running Boston above.)  

I’m running Charleston without the yoke of expectations. It’s liberating.

Yes, I have a training plan, and yes, I aspire to run well.

Mostly, however, I hope to run it smiling. That’s why I choose to use that photo from Boston … my race smile in it. When I look at that picture I forget about the size of my thighs (which I don’t like), or how my Garmin bonked along the course (about half way into it), or the pain I felt at that moment (it was taken around mile 20).

I re-live the joy of the journey and the grace that got me there. 

Today my friend Pam, who ran Boston with me last year, was one of the many runners trying to register for Boston in the second wave of qualifiers. (This year Boston is allowing people to register in waves, according to how fast they ran their qualifying times. Organizers hope to avoid the debacle of last year.)

This will be Pam’s third Boston Marathon. Beforehand she shared with me her ambivalence as to whether she should register or not. When she heard the field might fill before her queue came up she got clear. She wants to do it again.

I, on the other hand, am happy to have my health back after getting shingles several weeks ago. I’m running strong once again, and content just to “pull a Forrest” — run sans a lofty reason, but for the simplicity of it, itself.

Runners find all kinds of reasons for motivation. Some thrive on worldly, outward goals. I prefer to cocoon, and it’s when I tap into my inner strength, I manifest my goals and accomplishments best on the outside as well.

There is also something to be said about the power of being dedicated without the attachment. Sometimes that actually frees you to do much better than you would if you placed heavy expectations on yourself.

Here’s also where I may be a bit of a running freak, a la Forrest. I enjoy marathon training. I like following a plan, seeing my progress and how strong I get. Most of all I love getting “stride time” to myself. When I run alone it gives me a space for introspection I don’t normally get day-to-day with children and daily demands. I run; I think; I pray; I rejoice. It brings me back to my core. I feel alive.

Yet … when I get to run with others again … I feel connected, certain I am not alone and embraced by the whole.

I just felt like running …

How about you?

Charleston, here we come!

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