Marking Your Progress

One of the things we do at Girls on the Run is run laps -- lots of them! As a physical activity based positive youth development program, we use running as a tool to boost the girls in the ways they need it most as they enter their adolescent years, working on competence, confidence, connection, character, caring, and contribution as well as encouraging physical activity and discouraging sedentary behavior. Running is incorporated into many of the games and activities that are used to reinforce the lesson objectives.

When we get to the laps part of the lesson, a few of the girls who genuinely love running get really excited. I love hearing the cheers from these girls: "Yay! I was hoping we'd start running soon!" But for most of the girls, running laps is a chore. Training is hard work, requiring discipline and dedication, and it's difficult for the girls to understand how this tiresome activity will help them to reach their end-of-season goal of completing a 5K run.

Isn't life like this? In the day-to-day, it's easy to lose sight of the way that intentional action and perseverance today lead to growth and achievement tomorrow.

In Girls on the Run, we try different tactics to make the lap-running more fun for the girls. Favorites this season included zombie and freeze tag, chasing or being chased by the coaches, and STICKERS. When we started using stickers as lap-counters, I thought the girls would put them on their clothes, or maybe their backpacks. But instead, their favorite sticker spots were their faces. The girls raced around the school, aiming for that next sticker, the stickers serving as a visual reminder of their hard work and intentional action. Girls were moving forward, progressing toward their 5K goal, and having fun while doing it.

We all have things we do each day that may seem laborious and even pointless: folding the laundry, writing that report, running laps. What can you do today to liven up that which feels tiresome? How can you mark your progress? Sometimes these seemingly mundane activities are truly the pathway to the extraordinary.

Please consider a donation to my SoleMates fundraising campaign. The money that I am able to raise goes to our GOTR NJ East scholarship fund and is used to expand the GOTR program into areas of our council territory where scholarship needs tend to be highest, an initiative that we call Every Girl can Run. All donations are tax deductible. Thank you for your support!

Surprised by Joy

If you've seen me over the last few weeks, you may notice that I'm looking a little tired.  One reason that I'm sleepy is that I've been up late watching Universal Sports' coverage of the 2011 Track and Field World Championships in Daegu, South Korea.  I LOVE watching sports, especially running races.  In fact, I think that I enjoy spectating at least as much as I enjoy participating.  I'm usually OK with watching a race once and then moving on.  But I have to admit that there's one race from this year's championships that I keep coming back to: it's the womens' 1500m race.  For those who didn't see it, I'll spare you the suspense - an American named Jenny Barringer Simpson won the race.  But for me, it's not so much about who won, but how she won, and her response after winning.  Check it out (Jenny's in navy blue): 



The race positioning changes an amazing number of times during the 4-minute test.  For much of the event, Jenny is closer to the back than the front.  But this doesn't seem to get to her: with 200 meters to go, she makes her move, and manages, somehow, to summon strength, winning strength, and powers her way to the front.  Her race smarts and confidence are clearly inspiring.  But I have to tell you that what I love most of all is her response after she crosses the line - it's written all over her face - first disbelief...then relief... then Joy.

Have you had this kind of response, or felt this kind of joy, at some point during your life?  Have you worked hard toward a goal, even one that seemed unattainable, and accomplished it?  Have you faced something you weren't sure you could conquer and come out victorious on the other side?  Or maybe you experienced joy welling up inside of you after learning something that changes everything.  Maybe your "race" was a lot longer than 4 minutes; in fact, maybe you're in the middle of your race right now.

If you've had a moment like Jenny's, I'd love to hear all about it!

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?

I Run...

Today is National Running Day, a day when those of us running crazies celebrate the many reasons why we run!

Why do you run?  (Or why don't you run?)

I started this blog last summer, after I committed to running a marathon with Team World Vision to raise money for water projects in Africa.  This journey, complete with unexpected blessings along the way, has been one of the most enriching of my life.  Team World Vision created the short film below to remind us of many of the reasons we run and to invite us to join them in running to change lives.  Please take the time to check it out, even if you don't currently enjoy running or see yourself as a runner.  A small step today may be the first on a path to life change for you and for others.

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.

I am not afraid. I was born to do this.

I wrote the following in response to an invitation on Kara Goucher's blog.  Let me know if you submit a story too - I'd love to hear it!


For me, running has been like a roadway on my journey out of fear.  It is the path that leads me further from the faulty behaviors and thoughts that have defined me and toward new opportunities and challenges and relationships.

Out of a perceived failure, my relationship with running was birthed.  It was my junior year of high school, and I needed to find a new spring sport.  I was tired of going to softball practice and trying my best, only to sit on the bench for the majority of every game.  My confidence in my athletic ability, and really my confidence in general, was pretty low.  I felt that I did not have any useful skills to contribute to a team.  In my search for another chance, a new opportunity, I decided to try track and field.  After all, there had to be something, some event, where I would be successful.  And there were no try-outs or cuts on the track team.

The first few weeks were really awful, and my first few races miserable failures.  I'm not quite sure why I kept at it, aside from a decision that I had made to not use my running performance, or my seeming lack of ability, to define me.  Somehow, at some point that first season, something clicked.  And I wanted to keep running.  This was a pivotal time for me.  I was growing in endurance and courage.  I was starting to like myself, maybe more for the fact that I faced a primary life fear - the fear that no matter how hard I try, I'm not good enough - and came out on the other side, than for my improvement as a runner.

Well, I've certainly had my ups and downs with running since then - opportunities to run at the Division I level in college and age group victories at road races, along with struggles with anemia and injuries and lack of motivation.  But running continues to be the pathway that God has used to help me to face my fears.  Over the past year, opportunities to run a marathon to bring running water to people in Kenya and to coach a team of elementary school-aged girls with all of their elementary school-aged issues and insecurities have forced me to take a good, long look in the mirror, the reflection revealing the lingering fears - that I'm not capable of educating or informing others, that I'm not really an advocate for those who have no voice, that I'm not interesting or fun.  I'm so grateful for second (and third and fourth) chances, for the  freedom to keep trying.  The sticking with it even when it feels yucky is what brings healing - and hope.  If I have a bad practice with the girls, if they tell me they don't want to run with me, I'm going to keep loving them, and running with them.  I'm going to be OK even if I don't have their love and respect in return for mine. 

All of this has taught me that my lack shouldn't keep me from trying things; just because I wasn't gifted with as much natural ability as other runners doesn't mean that I should quit running my race.  There are definitely days when I don't feel born to run, just like I don't feel born to do lots of other things that I obviously was born to do (like motherhood, but I'll save that subject for another time).  But in keeping at it, I know that I'm growing.  I'm more than growing, I'm really living.  I am not afraid.  I was born to do this.

Running = Punishment (?)

Remember the Jack Daniels talk that I mentioned in my last post?  One thing that he mentioned in his talk, as a side note, really, is that in the US, running is viewed as punishment.  He took a little time to elaborate, pointing out how cross country is a sport often chosen by the weakest girls - those who have tried other sports and were unsuccessful.  (If I remember correctly, he was trying to explain why the high school athletes most prone to injury are female cross country runners - the result of a combination of a strenuous sport and a weak body).

I've returned to this statement several times in the past week.  I can relate to the story Coach Daniels told about girls choosing to run cross country.  My beginnings as a runner came during my junior year of high school.  I played softball in the spring for several years, but wasn't given many opportunities to play because I really wasn't very good.  Softball required some coordination, and coordination definitely isn't one of my strengths.  And neither was confidence.  When I was up to bat, or standing in the outfield, positioning myself to catch a fly ball, I really didn't believe that I could make the hit or the catch.  Anyway, I figured that I would try track and field.  After all, anyone can find some track or field event where they can excel, right?  Well, I was pretty weak, and it did take me a very long time before I saw much success with running.  Maybe, subconsciously, I did see this as a fitting punishment for me, as one who was unsuccessful at other sports.

My first response to Coach Daniels' statement was to disagree and to think of all of the reasons that I love to run.  But as I've spent some more time analyzing my running - my motivation, my habits - I've started to wonder if what he said is actually true for me too.

I think back over the past week, and it's been really heavy.  I've had all of the typical commitments with my family, and housework, and volunteer activities.  And night meetings and work and phone calls.  But on top of that, I've heard about or been involved in several situations that were discouraging - reading about environmental and health impacts to a community where my friend's parents live, learning more about natural gas drilling in PA, listening to several friends talk about recent struggles, visiting my 90-year-old and bedridden neighbor, watching an older family member struggle with her health, seeing some negative interactions on a team of girls that I help to coach.

Yesterday, I went out for a long run, and I pushed myself.  Hard.  I haven't run at that pace for that distance in months.

Is running how I work out this heaviness and pain?  Is running punishment - am I punishing myself for feeling badly that I can't stop all of these hard things from happening?

As I was reflecting on some of these things during my run yesterday, I came upon a bright spot.  It was one of the girls from the team that I help to coach - the one that's been experiencing some negativity - bounding down the street, the brightness of her smile and laugh matching that of the sun, which shone on us, driving away the dark.  Maybe I do use running as some strange form of punishment sometimes, but the good that's come from my running definitely outshines any bad.

Focusing on the Task at Hand

Thanks to my husband, I recently had the opportunity to attend a running clinic sponsored by Runner's World Magazine.  Jack Daniels, one of the most well-known and well-respected running coaches in the US, shared from the wealth of running wisdom that he's accumulated over the years.  You can read more about his visit here and here.

I've used some advice from Jack Daniels before, so I was eager to know what he would share with us.  After hearing from him, I want to focus more on my stride rate (to run efficiently, we're to shoot for 180 steps per minute) and my breathing (running at a good pace should result in a breath in over 2 steps and a breath out over 2 steps).  And I want to learn to focus on the task at hand.  This seems very simple, but in a racing situation, and especially in a marathon, it's very easy to get overwhelmed and to fixate on how far I am from the finish.  The distance and time remaining can feel burdensome, crushing, even impossible.

This concept was echoed in a youtube clip showing highlights from this week's LA marathon and an interview with a female runner named Amy Hastings.  Her first marathon, she finished in second place with a phenomenal time under less-than-ideal weather conditions.  She said that she experienced pain different from anything she's never felt before, but that when it came to pushing through and finishing, she began to focus on getting through each quarter mile and then each mile.  Great advice for finishing a running marathon, but also valuable for finishing life's other "marathons" too.

Super Bowl 10K, Take Two

On Sunday, I ran my first race since the marathon.  Some runners enter races for fun or for friendship.  Some enter races to keep themselves on task or to achieve a goal.  Some runners entered this race to win special Super Bowl 10K wool socks, gifts awarded to the top 100 runners.  My sister, husband, and I joked about using "socks" as our running mantra, repeating it during the race to inspire ourselves to pick up the pace. 

We found parking, jogged over to the short (yay!) port-a-potty lines, and arrived at the starting line with time to spare.  A sunny, relatively warm morning consoled us when they announced that the course route was revised, due to ice, and would consist of 2 out-and-back loops.  After a few additional race instructions, we heard the bullhorn and took off, looking out for each other and trying to avoid that nasty ice!

Energy and excitement quickly turned to fatigue after climbing the first hill, my tingling legs telling me that my early race pace was too swift for me to sustain.   Additional discouragement came at the hands, or rather legs, of my sister.  We ran together for a short while.  Comparing her nearly non-existent breathing with my very loud heaving, I decided that I wouldn't be able to keep up with her for the whole race.  I watched her pull away from me, her athletic frame clothed in bright pink, weaving effortlessly through the crowd of the other front-runners who were undoubtedly dreaming of those socks.

I passed the half-way point in 22 minutes, a pretty solid time for me.  But instead of finding pleasure and strength in this small achievement, I continued to focus on my tired body and my struggle to keep up with my sister.  At one point, realizing that I was feeling miserable, I decided that I should just slow down and enjoy the race - enjoy the beautiful weather and scenery and people.  But my misery was due to the activity in my head, and not so much the activity going on in the rest of my body.  For me, slowing down wasn't the answer.

Can I rewrite this story and create a new memory of this race?  In the rewritten story, much of the actual details of the race stay the same - beautiful race day, hilly and somewhat icy race route, lots of eager runners.  I finish in 45:21, behind my sister and my husband.  I do well enough to earn a coveted pair of socks.  But in my new story, I speak kind words to myself as I run.  I focus on my body's amazing ability to run at a quick pace over several miles.  I am thankful for my health.  I clap, trying to encourage the other tired runners.  I am genuinely happy for my husband and my sister; I am glad for those who race by me.  I marvel at their achievement.

In my new story, I am pleased with my performance; I am pleased with myself.

Next Steps

Here's to a very late marathon recap!  On the whole, I had a satisfying marathon experience.  We drove to Philly last Saturday and had the opportunity to stay with an old running/church friend and her family.  We reconnected over Brazilian food and a game of Settlers before I surrendered to my bed.  I actually slept through most of the night when my alarm went off at 5AM; before I knew it, we were off to the race start. I couldn't have asked for a better weather day: sunny and in the 40's.  I found a port-a-potty, and then my race corral, and then we were off.  The marathon course is beautiful...winding through the historic parts of the city and back toward the zoo and art museum, then through Fairmount Park again and to Manayunk before the turn around and end at the art museum.  And nothing could prepare me for the number of fans.  I think this was the highlight for me: the support of numbers of people who wouldn't have known my name except for that it was printed on my race bib; the support of some friends who traveled long distances, one with an Elmo doll, to cheer me on; and the support of my husband, who ran most of the last 3 miles with me despite the fact that I was exhausted and unpleasant at that point (I compare running a marathon with giving birth...that may give you a picture of what he was dealing with).

After a slow start, I was able to settle into my own pace around mile 3, and for the most part, stick with that pace until around mile 18.  I decided then that I needed some extra motivation, so I put my headphones on.  My ipod died a few minutes later.  I was disappointed, but I didn't want to let it ruin my race.  I was starting to struggle physically and mentally at that point.  Whenever I heard running water, and there were several points in the last miles when I did, I would try to focus on why I was running the race, in hopes that it would help me to regroup.  I've been in this situation before: the part of a race when I need to decide whether I'm going to keep chasing my goal, or whether I'm going to give up and just resign myself to the fact that I was running a good race but can't find the strength to keep at it.

I feel a little like that right now, hence the late blog entry.  I've spent the last few months learning more about and raising money for a cause and a people who mean a lot to me.  I've had opportunities to start this blog and connect with old and new friends.  I've had a marathon training plan telling me exactly what I need to do every day to meet my goal.  I've felt confident that I've been in step with God; I've been running a good race.  Now, in this post-fundraising, post-marathon place, I'm feeling a little out of steam, and I'm also feeling a little scared, because I had this really good thing going and I'm not quite sure how to keep it going; I was racing toward a strong finish and now I don't know how or if I'm going to complete the race.  I don't know what my next steps are or how to take them.

In the marathon, when my body and mind started to fail me, I received a huge hug from Elmo, the company of my husband, who loves me and runs with me even during some of my lowest moments, and the smiling faces of friends who cheerfully greeted me at the finish line.  I welcomed these as gifts along the way, gifts that helped me to finish well.  As I consider my next move, I'll look expectantly for those things that will motivate me and point me in the right direction.

Home stretch

I just completed my last long run of 8 miles, which was actually shorter than some of my during-the-week runs just a couple of weeks ago!  Marathon taper time is bittersweet.  It's been nice to look at my marathon training plan and see that I'm responsible for completing much less milage.  But I was feeling a little nostalgic when I realized that time marches on, and this season of training is nearly over.  I will miss my weekly morning long runs with my friend Val!  We felt really thankful as our husbands watched our kids while we ran through the beautiful Lancaster County countryside and shared meaningful conversation.  Val runs her first marathon in the Outer Banks tomorrow.  Go Val!

A quick fundraising update... I'm 76% of the way to my goal of raising $2,000 with one week to go until the marathon!  Thank you so very much to those who have donated money to this cause.  Your generosity overwhelms me (in a good way)!  Thanks also to all who have supported me with kind words, thoughtful questions, and prayers.  I feel so grateful and hopeful as I move into my last week of training!

If you would still like to donate money to World Vision, please visit my fundraising page.  Your money will be used to fund clean water projects in Kenya and Ethiopia.  Most of us in this country are really blessed with financial resources that we can use to care for others... what an awesome privilege it is to share and to give!  I hope that, as you give with the desire of helping others and changing lives, you are changed too.

Please check back later on in the weekend for a blog entry related to the cost of water.

Note to self

Today, Dave and I celebrate our eighth wedding anniversary!  Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and give some advice to my younger self; I want to tell her how it really is.

One of the things I would tell younger Lori is that marriage is a lot like running a marathon. 

Surrounded by a crowd of friends and family, you make promises, celebrate the new thing that is about to happen, and then you're pronounced husband and wife.  And you're off.  The race has begun.  You have lots of people happy for you and cheering you on, at least in the beginning.  Everything feels new and fresh.  Your feet don't hurt, and you're not impacted by the weather.  You're ready to take on whatever hill or cramp or hardship may come your way.  You're in the honeymoon phase.  There's no fighting.  Nothing can get you down.

After you've been at it for a while, some old injuries and hurts begin to resurface, affecting your attitude and running and relating.  You plow through the pain and discouragement.  But then you feel thirsty and hungry, at least until you reach the next water stop, where you are blessed and refreshed for a time with gatorade and power bars.  Next come obstacles with names Loneliness, Boredom, and Distraction.  And then you hit the wall, where you are tested to see how much you want this race or this marriage.

You almost always start a marathon expecting to make it to the finish line, but sometimes, things don't go as planned, and the race ends in an unexpected way.  You choose to give up, or the race ends early due to a medical condition, or a betrayal, or death.

But there are blessings along the way.  An unexpected conversation...a new friendship forms as the miles tick by.  A friend cheers or speaks words of honesty or prays for you at just the right time.  Or you're having an "on" running day...the miles fly by and you're feeling great...things seem effortless for a time.  You're feeling strong and that you have what you need to keep at it.  And you see the finish line in this distance and remember that all of the hard work and difficult choices impact more than just you; it's worth it for your kids and sometimes even for people you've never met.  Your choices and relationships can affect people in a different time and place.

When I think of marriage, one of the things that I remember is some wise advice that the mother of a very dear friend of mine gave to my friend as she was making some decisions about dating and marriage.  She encouraged my friend to "run" as quickly as she could toward Jesus and then look to see who was running with her to determine who would make a good husband.  Today, I'm feeling so very grateful to be running this race with Dave.  I hope we're running an ultra-marathon.  Happy anniversary David!  I love you!

(The photo is me in my wedding gown running down the steps of the church where we were married.  I even had running shoes on!  The photo was not taken on our wedding day;  Dave shot this in May 2009 for a school project.  We got some interesting and confused looks from neighbors that day!)

training update

A few random notes about my marathon training...

Dave and I just joined the local YMCA, at least temporarily.  Up until now, I'd been completing my training runs in the morning, before the kids were up and Dave needed to leave for work.  But it's been more and more difficult to run outside at 6 AM.  I'm a little klutzy, and I was getting concerned that I may injure myself running on the city sidewalks in the dark!  It was either join the Y, or invest in a headlamp!

My long run partner, Val, and I completed a 16-mile long run this past weekend.  The longest we've gone up to this point is 18 miles.  We do 20 this Saturday, and we're looking forward to the challenge (right Val?)!

Please let me know if you are interested in hearing more about my marathon training, or if you have any general questions about training, by commenting on this blog post.  Do you picture yourself being fascinated by the details of each and every run, potential injury, running-related toenail problem, etc.?  (Some runners eat this up...I'm NOT kidding).  Or not so much?  I'd love to know what YOU think.  Really.  Thanks!

A Change of Pace

Last fall, shortly after having a revelation that coaching cross country would be the "perfect job" for me (the latest in at least a few "perfect jobs" that I've thought of in the last couple of years...more on that later), I started reading some books on coaching.  I read one piece of advice that I've come back to several times since.  The author was describing a situation that I think every runner has faced at some point:  you are running in a race and you are feeling TIRED and want to slow down or drop out of the race.  The author recommended encouraging the runner to try speeding up first, before slowing down.  (What?!?)  His reasoning was that sometimes, the runner doesn't really need to slow down.  What the runner really needs is a change of pace (Daniels' Running Formula by Jack Daniels, PhD).

This sounded a little crazy to me, but I wanted to test the author's theory.  I first tried this at the gym.  For me, less daylight=treadmill running at the gym.  I don't typically enjoy running on the treadmill.  Unless I have someone to talk to, I get bored easily or start obsessing about my running milage or pace.  I started inserting some quick pace running into my normal routine, even at points where I would typically feel tired.  Often, I was able to keep up my quick goal pace.  Amazing!

I look back over my life at the times when I've felt discouraged or weary, or when I've ended relationships or activities or jobs, and I wonder how many times I chose to retreat when I really needed to accelerate.

Some numbers

Not sure if you like numbers.  I LOVE them.  I love the way that they can be used like a writer uses words or an artist uses his/her medium of choice to describe and build and expose and evaluate and express.  I love that they are governed by certain rules...that there is an order about them...but that we can also use them to create all kinds of beautiful and meaningful things.

I think a lot of runners love numbers.  It seems that a lot of runners like to talk about stats.  How far did you run today?  How long did it take you?  What's the longest run you attempted before your marathon?  How many 5Ks have you run this year?

For those of you who love numbers, today's post is for you!  First, some running-related numbers:

500         Spots remaining to register for the Philadelphia Marathon (this will be my last plug...it's still not too late to sign up to run with me!!)
600+       Miles I will have run to train for the Philadelphia Marathon
2 or 3      Pairs of running shoes worn during training
16           Weeks of training=number of Saturday long runs=number of power bars eaten
22           Miles run during my longest long run
1             Number of marathons I've finished before the Philadelphia Marathon
3:37:47   Hours, minutes, and seconds that it took me to complete my first marathon
3:30        Minutes and seconds that it took me to complete each of 4 800-meter runs I attempted this morning

And now, some water-related numbers:
1 in 8      People world-wide who lack access to clean water
46           Percentage of people world-wide who do not have water piped to their homes
100         Gallons of water the average American uses in one day
2.6-5.26  Gallons of water the average Sub-Saharan African uses in one day  
3.7          Average number of miles walked each way to a water source by women/children in developing countries
45           Pounds of water carried per water pot or jerry can from the water source
3             Liters of water required to produce 1 liter of bottled water
2,900      Gallons of water required to make 1 pair of blue jeans

I use these statistics to imagine myself as a woman in a developing country.  I leave early in the morning with my 2 children and walk 3.7 miles to a water source that may also be used by animals or for washing or sewage.  I hope that there is some water, even if it is dirty.  I carry an awkward container that is the weight of my 4-year-old son on my back for another 3.7 miles.  I agonize about whether to let my children drink the water.  I don't want them to get sick.  I spend so much time and physical (and mental) energy getting the water that I don't have time to pursue other work or hobbies.  My health is impacted by this daily exercise.  I am anxious.  I don't feel hopeful.

For now, this is why I run.

The sources used for the water stats are quizzes found here on the National Geographic website and websites by UN Water, The Water Project, and Water.org.

17-year-old relationships

While out for a run last fall, I realized that I had been "running" for nearly half of my life!  After getting through a brief moment of denial (how could I possibly be that old ?!?), I began to reflect on how I even came to run in the first place...

After an embarrassing softball season my sophomore year of high school, I decided that I would have to try a different spring sport the following year.  So I signed up for track and field.  There are so many track and field events...surely I would be good at something.  I decided to try distance running.  It was horrible at first.  It was really humbling watching other runners lap me during a 1-mile race.  I dreaded going to practice every day...it was just so hard...I felt like such a failure.

I'm really not sure why I kept at it, but I did, and I found myself running cross country during my senior year.  Around this same time, I began to get more serious about my Christian faith and to ask questions about whether my value was based on my cross country times or whether it was based on the truth that God loves me, regardless of my performance (still struggling with this one!).  I remember singing a song to myself as I struggled through each cross country meet.  The song was based on the Bible's Micah 6:8, which says He has told you, O people, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? (New American Standard Bible).  I would sing this to remind myself that my course time didn't really matter...that doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly are the things that honor God and the things that I should be striving for.

I'm still learning so much about what it means to aim for justice, kindness, and humility.  The more I try to be about these things, the more that I see I have a long way to go.