It's Not What You Think

I just finished reading this post, where Outside blogger (and Runner's World editor) Peter Vigneron questions whether getting pregnant makes female runners get faster.  Vigneron admits that, after contemplating this question, his gut response is no - women will not return to their pre-pregnancy levels of competition.  However, after choosing ten female runners and studying their pre-pregnancy and post-pregnancy performances, he finds that several of these women have been able to better their race times after having a baby.

Obviously, there are other factors in the lives of these women that could result in faster running, including harder or different training and the increased confidence or experience that comes with age.  So the questions remain - is there something that happens in a woman's body when she gets pregnant that helps her with her running?  Or is it motherhood itself that promotes these changes?  How is it for women who adopt children?

While my race times are not quite what they were in college, they are pretty darn close.  It amazes me to think that my 35-year-old body can nearly replicate what it could do at 18.  Over the last several years, my fastest race times and marathon finishes all occurred AK ("after kids"), and not BK ("before kids").  All this despite the frustrated moments that occur frequently during life AK - those times when I feel restricted in what I can accomplish due to my role in caring for my kids.   Even as I attempt to complete this post, I'm interrupted by requests for food, attention, and potty help (hence the scattered thoughts here).  But I wonder...is it possible that my kids are helping me with my running, and lots of other things too, without me realizing it?

Whether or not you're a "mom" in the traditional sense, I would love to hear your thoughts.  It would be great to hear from men too - how has fatherhood impacted your running?

What Does A Runner Look Like?

A few days ago, I was telling Dave how I'd like to purchase some new running attire.  During our conversation, I shared that most of my athletic shirts seem to be cut for men or small women; they don't provide much space for a woman like me, who has hips.  The pull and stretch of these shirts across my hips and bottom is uncomfortable and sometimes even embarrassing.  "My hips are just too big.  I don't look like a runner," I lamented.

Thank goodness for a husband who quickly challenges the untruths I speak.  Dave responded by pointing me to a forum post from a woman who was venting about an unpleasant experience at a sporting goods store.  She approached a salesperson, asked for information about a particular sports bra, and was dismissed with the remark, "You don't look like a runner."  Maybe this woman's legs weren't the right shape, or maybe she even carried a little extra weight around her waist.  In any case, an interaction like this is can be devastating to a sensitive runner.

What does a runner look like?

The other day, I spied my kids checking out my latest issue of Runners' World magazine.  Wow, I thought,  I'm encouraging the next generation of runners by leaving my reading material on the floor!  When I asked what they were doing, they told me that they were looking at belly buttons.  I believe it.  There are, indeed, many pictures of belly buttons in Runner's World.  Belly buttons on super-thin, very muscular, tan, young, beautiful people.  Runners of course.

Is this what a runner looks like?

I'll show you what a runner looks like.

Here we are - my sister, me, and my sister's roommate Hilary.  We're running the Pasadena Half Marathon.  We're putting one foot in front of the other, challenging ourselves, taking in the scenery, and enjoying our time together.  We may not belong in Runner's World magazine.  Maybe we don't look like we need the sports bras reserved for serious runners.  But we are runners.

Below are my sister's reflections on this subject.  Please check out more of her writing at http://revisionsblog.blogspot.com/

And I'd love to hear your response to this topic too...

If you had to guess a sport I play, you’d probably pick basketball. And you’d be right. Sort of.

At 5’11” and with a wide build, I was trained in high school to use my body to block out and get the rebound. I wasn’t the fast, agile center.

But that’s all guess work, based on common assumptions about athletes and their build. You wouldn’t guess that running is my thing.

A few months ago, I was discussing some knee inflammation with a doctor. This has been a chronic, mysterious symptom, one I suspect is related to an auto-immune disease I was diagnosed with a few years ago. My doctor — a large, athletic middle-eastern man with broad shoulders and a strong handshake — didn’t inspect my knee. Instead he encouraged biking or swimming for a cardio workout. “People built like you and me, we aren’t meant to be runners.”

We both knew what he meant — he didn’t need to explain further. He was referring to tall, broad folks with some meat on their bones. Runners, the assumption goes, are small, thin, all muscle and bone. Narrow hips and natural athleticism don’t hurt.

The thing is, I love running. I don’t pretend to think I’ll ever be competitive. I probably won’t ever run in the Boston marathon (you need to qualify for it). My fastest mile split to date is somewhere around 8.5 minutes, which really isn’t fast by most standards.

But there’s just something about it. It’s the joy of being outside. It’s getting up the hill. It’s racing the sun as it rises in the morning, or chasing it when it goes down. It’s exploring your city from a whole new perspective and discovering streets and alleys and vistas you might never have seen if you hadn’t been running through it.           

So that’s why, when my doctor suggested running wasn’t for me, hot tears threatened my eyes and I had to look down to blink them away. After the hurt had passed (the hurt from his insensitive comment and all that had been implied by messages I’d received before this one), I smiled a little to myself. I remembered how so often people’s comments mirror their own disappointment and have little to say about me. And I renewed my commitment to give my desire to run — and enjoy it —precedence over whatever my build might say about me. Or what sport I should play.

A Little Inspiration from Runner's World

I know it!  Most of you are going to think I'm strange (some of you already KNOW that I have my quirks...don't we all?!?).  I don't typically look forward to receiving our mail.  Honestly, there's just not much to look forward to.  Credit card offers, insurance offers, bills...who needs it?  But I'm thankful that, once a month, I'm guaranteed to feel a smile forming on my face as I open the front door and find mail scattered across our floor.  On that day, I spy my Runner's World magazine, and my mind races to reshape my day so that I will have the time to at least skim through the pages.

Today is that day!  The arrival of the magazine, paired with the chance occurrence of both kids napping, provided me with some unusual afternoon pleasure reading.  Ahh...the simple things.  Anyway, one of the cover stories is titled Heroes, and since I'm obviously into the heroic (see previous post about Wonder Woman underoos), I turned there right away.

I quickly noticed a story about a woman called Tara Livesay, who lives in Haiti, along with her husband and 6 of her 7 children (3 of them adopted).  The article says that she's used running to raise more than $180,000 (!!!) to care for the people of Haiti.  Because I was curious to know how it's possible for one person's efforts to be that effective, I went to her blog.  There is SO much good stuff here, I'm not even sure exactly what to recommend.  In yesterday's post, I run II, she recounts the story of when she found out that Runner's World features her as a hero (great story!).  The post also includes Haiti-I run, written in 2009.  Here, she uses her morning run observations to paint the picture of life in Haiti.  Beautiful, and what resonates with me most is the following:

In my right ear, I have my mp3 player on as loud as it will go. Derek Webb sings and reminds me This Too Shall Be Made Right. The combination of the music in my right ear and what I am taking in with my left ear and the dozens of situations I see around me cannot be easily reconciled or accepted. Does God see this too? A wave of something that feels like grief hits me. I am bombarded by a multitude of thoughts. I run.

I spend a lot of time questioning the things that happen in this world, and how God could allow the pain, the sickness, the injustice...the evil.  The knowledge that God will make things right is what brings me comfort.  God even uses us to help make things right through things like visiting someone who is sick, or taking the time to be a good listener to a friend, or providing a meal for one who's just had a baby, or using running to raise money for people who need help.  You have something unique to contribute too.

Another treasure that I discovered on Tara Livesay's blog is the following prayer...I pray it be true for you.


May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships - so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people - so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war - so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world - so that you can do what others claim cannot be done, to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen.
(Franciscan Benediction)

Searching for Simon

Some disclaimers totally unrelated to this post...I don't view myself as being particularly tech-savvy.  I'm also not an expert on running marathons, the world's water crisis, or engineering related to developing wells.  And I don't think I've done any kind of creative writing since college (and I didn't do much of it there).

But, I am excited about each of these things and trusting that in sharing what I'm learning, I can inspire action and hopefulness.  Or at least remind myself of the reasons I have to be hopeful.

Now on to Simon.  Simon is the child we started sponsoring after I attended the World Vision experience at a local church nearly 3 years ago.  It was challenging to walk through that exhibit and to be confronted by the HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa.  I wanted to be able to hide my eyes...to turn away, but I couldn't.  And I'm grateful.  I confess that I haven't been faithful in my communication with Simon, but it's been super encouraging to get pictures and letters and updates and just to be connected with someone in another part of the world.  Honestly, I knew nothing about Zambia before Simon.  Sounds horrible, but I didn't care about Zambia before Simon.

A few months ago, I was reading my Runner's World magazine when I came across an article about Ryan and Sara Hall, well-known U.S. distance runners, and their trip to Zambia with Team World Vision.  Oh, that's nice, I thought.  Then I noticed that they were in an area called Musele.  Isn't that where Simon is?  I pulled out my picture of Simon and started searching for him in the magazine pictures.  At some point, as I was studying the magazine photos, I realized that the Team World Vision runners were raising money for water projects that are directly impacting Simon.  I care about Simon, and so I care about Musele, Zambia.  I am thankful for the water projects that are granting this community access to a reliable source of water.  I am grateful for the donors who supported these projects.  I like to run.  That's nice.

When I was searching for Simon, I didn't have any idea that I would join Team World Vision.  It was just part of my story.  Isn't it crazy to look back and see how seemingly insignificant connections and circumstances can result in actions and stories that are big and purposeful?