Springtime color

Springtime is my favorite.

For so many reasons.

While I love winter and the cold air and bundling up and cozy, homey days, there is something missing in wintertime.  There is an incredibly unfortunate lack of color.  The sky is gray.  The trees have been stripped of all brightness.  The grass turns brown.  Everything seems subdued and stagnant.

But when the first days of spring arrive and you begin to feel just a touch of warmth, suddenly the world is filled with color.  And it is the stark contrast of the lack of winter color held next to the brightness of spring that makes it all the more brilliant.  I feel as though I am overwhelmed by color.  Surrounded by life and growth and newness.  Spring, quite simply, makes me happy.

Spring is when the world starts growing again.  From plants to people, life seems to come alive and click back into place in springtime.  Watching things grow is at the top of the list of things I enjoy.  When things are growing, possibilities seem endless.  Life seems unstoppable.  Doors are swung wide open, shedding light on new paths and into long-forgotten corners.  Anything can happen in the springtime.

Springtime in first grade is one of the most amazing times of the year.  In April, all those little ones who have seemed to struggle to grow up until this point suddenly begin to sprout and bloom.  They jump reading levels at speeds that seemed unattainable.  Math starts to really make sense.  And all those little skills and strategies that you've been teaching all year suddenly seem to click into place.  Being a first grade teacher in the springtime always reminds me exactly why I chose the job I did, and why I love it so much.

For the past few days in Seattle, we've been experiencing an uncommonly early, warm, clear spring.  This weather is supposed to last at least until Thursday, which I am grateful for seeing as I am now on spring break.  I know that we will probably pay dearly for these days with long months of rainy 50 degree weather in April and May, so I am soaking in every ounce of brightness I can right now.

I took Lucy for a walk after work on Friday, and couldn't help but smile at each and every pop of color.  I simply had to document it all with pictures while Lucy sniffed away at new spring smells in the grass.  The colors of spring are dynamic and varied and beautiful.

Color fills the trees:

It grows from weeds:

Hangs in bushes:

And pops from flowers in all shapes and sizes:

Even the whites seem to burst with color:

And of course the blue brilliance of the sky is unbeatable.

Color is filling up life right now.  Up until this week, I had been consumed by the dullness of lackluster, cold, dreary days.  But springtime has arrived and life is in full color.  The world is growing and changing outside.  And, while it lasts, I'm going to spend every moment I can outside.  And when I can't be out in it, I'm going to swing my door wide, open all the windows, and try to absorb the energy and newness that life is throwing my way.

Mercer Island Half Marathon: There are no limits

I'm all raced out.  I'm officially at the end of my own little game of March Madness that I've been playing.  It started 3 weekends ago with the Hot Chocolate 15K, continued last weekend with the St. Patty's Day Dash, and ended today with the Mercer Island Half Marathon.

And if there's a theme to all of these runs, it's that there are no limits to what my body will do if I ask it.  I've already told you about the Hot Chocolate 15K and the shenanigans of the St. Patty's Day Dash.  Those two races taught me that even when I beat up my body, treat it unkindly, dehydrate it, and deprive it of sleep, it will still perform better than I could have expected.  But those races were "just for fun."  They had no real bearing on the mental account book I keep of my running progress (even though I'm still blown away by my St. Patty's Day Dash average pace).

Today's race, however, really counted in my books.  Today I wanted to do well.  I had goals (a PR of sub 1:50).  There was no joking around with this run.  The Mercer Island Half is not easy.  It is all up and down hills with very few flats.  The roads are all canted, which wreaks havoc on knees and hips.

So I prepared as I normally do before a serious race.  I drank a lot of water on Saturday (and nothing else). I ate a salad, a massive bowl of pasta, and bread for dinner.  I was in bed by 9:30 and asleep by 9:45.  I woke up nice and early to eat my almond butter and banana toast and have time to properly prep my race supplies.  By the time Erica came to pick me up, I was ready to take on this race.

I oddly did not feel nervous before this race.  Typically, before any half or full, I get butterflies in my stomach the morning of the race.  I can't help but think about all the pain I'll be facing in just an hour or two.  I can't help but wonder how strong my mental faculties will be when the pain hits.  I usually turn over and over thoughts in my head of which voice will reign supreme during the race--the voice that says "this sucks, I'm done," or the voice that says "you can do it, just push on through."  Maybe it was the fact that I'd already been at 2 race starts in the past few weeks (even if they weren't nerve-inducing starts).  Maybe it was the idea that I have the Goofy Challenge, the Seattle Half in November, and the Nike Women's Half Marathon all on my list of recent successful activities.  Maybe by the 9th half marathon you've run you simply don't get nervous anymore.

Whatever the reason, I was wary of the lack of nerves.  I like nerves.  Nerves mean I'm not getting cocky and over confident.  Nerves mean I'm still feeling the way normal people feel.  Nerves mean life and reality and fear, a little of which is good for all of us.

But before I had any real time to get nervous about not being nervous, we were at the race start ready to go.

Me and my racing ladies.   Ready to take on another.

We started off at a pace that we all considered way too fast.  But as we kept running, and passing other runners, despite Erica and I's constant self-reminders to slow down, we kept speeding up.  We all had dreadful fears of running out of steam and crashing when we hit the final big hill at mile 11.5, but couldn't quite seem to back off the pace.  So we went full steam ahead and ticked off the first few miles quite quickly.

I think Mercer Island is probably one of the most unique courses I've seen.  It reminds me of the portion of the Amica Seattle Half that goes through tree-lined winding Interlaken, except the whole course is like that.  Lots of curves and bends and little inclines.  You can never see more than a quarter mile of the course ahead of you as you wind through the street the encircles the island.  I saw some great things about this and some not so great things.  Great being that you couldn't see what was coming or how far you had to go.  The miles ticked away quickly when you came around a bend and realized that the next mile marker was all of a sudden right there.

The down side to this winding, blind course was that when you hit a hill, you had no idea how big it was.  You couldn't see the top and therefore had no way of knowing how to gauge how much effort could be expended.  And remember, there were lots of hills.  In fact, from the first mile until about mile 10, it felt like all we were doing was going uphill.  We kept going up and up and up with no downs.  And being that this was a loop course that started and finished in the same place, I didn't quite see how this was possible.  Nonetheless, we kept going up and kept our pace up too.

We had looked at the elevation map on the bus on the way to the race, so I knew where the big hills were (mile 5, miles 8.5-9.5, and then the real doozy from mile 11.5-12.5).  When we hit the mile 5 hill, it seemed like no big deal.  In fact none of the hills really seemed like a "big deal" compared to the Nike hills in San Francisco, the steep portions of Amica Seattle, or even the hills at the end of the Whidbey Island Half.  These were mild rolling hills, which didn't seem so bad when you were on them, but they all added up at the end.  My legs started feeling tired around mile 9.  Things started tensing up and my hips and knees started hurting.  

After getting to about mile 10, we finally started seeing some downhills.  I tried to use these downhills to recover my breathing, shorten my stride again, and regain my mental focus for the mile 11.5 hill.  I felt the whispers of my negative voice enter the back of my brain, but I tried my best to push them back, to stay focused on the mile I was on, and to pull strength from Erica and Ana, who were right there with me.  

And mostly, that worked.  I recovered in time to tackle the mile 11.5 hill.  This actually was a big one.  By the time I got to the top, I was out of breath again and losing steam.  Erica and Ana seemed to be picking up some energy that I didn't have, so I focused on pushing through and staying with them.  When I hit mile 12, I told myself I could make it a mile more.  One mile, no big deal.  I looked at my watch and realized that I was going to make that PR I was looking for, which kept me moving.  There were still two more little, steep hills between me and the finish though.

At the bottom of the second to last hill, all I wanted was to be done.  My legs had very little left in them and felt like lead.  My muscles seemed done.  Somehow I dug deep and found enough energy to get up that hill.  But at the top, I still had a half mile to go and an uphill finish.  A glance at my watch told me I had time for a mini walk break.

But I didn't let myself.  Because suddenly I remembered my team.  And I remembered that there are people who can't run.  I thought of Yanni, one of my teammates whose cancer recently relapsed, who is experiencing some horrendous side effects of a new drug she's on, but yesterday at practice she ran 14 miles.  She pushed through something I can't even imagine.  So for Yanni, who I watched push through Goofy training, and the Goofy Challenge, and now another marathon season, for her I pushed through the last half mile.  It may not be much, but it was all I had to give.

I hit the last short hill and gave every little ounce of energy I had left in my body.  I had nothing left for a sprint to the end.  I just made it there.  And my official finish time: 1:48:32.  I broke 1:50.  I shaved 4 minutes off my PR time from the Seattle half in November.  

The watch stats.  Paces definitely all over the place, but staying
between 7:55 and 8:25.  8:11 average overall.  Seeing this makes me
wonder what I really could have done last week at the Dash.

At the end, I realized why I didn't feel very nervous at the start.  It's because I finally realized that there are no limits to what my body can do.  There are only limits to what my mind will let it do.  At 12.5 when I thought I was done, I recharged my mind, found the motivation I needed to keep going, and simply did it.  If my mind tells it to, my body will find the energy it needs to keep moving.  It is my brain that needs the training.

But my brain has come a long way.  When I look back at the Seattle half 2 Novembers ago, or the San Diego Marathon last June, I realize now that the thing that disappointed me in those races wasn't my body's performance, it was my mind's.  I felt like I had given up.  In my last couple races, my mind has grown stronger because I've gained confidence in my body and myself.  I've trained the voice that says "Yes, you can" to be the loudest voice in my head.  I've trained it to drown out the other voices.

If you told me 2 years ago that I'd be running a 1:48 half today, I would have told you that you were absolutely insanely crazy.  I never in a million years thought that I would make it here.  And that from here, I would think that I could still go further.  Because I believe in myself and what I am capable of.  I believe that there are no limits except in my own mind.

A lesson I think we are all learning.  We all PR'd today.  It was a pretty
amazing race.

Now, after all this March Madness, both my body and my brain are tired.  In fact, I kind of feel like this:

No words are necessary.

I just have to make it one more week and then I get to have my Spring Break.  And for Spring Break, I have absolutely no plans.  I will run a little, relax a little, and accomplish very little.  I think my body and my brain deserve at least that.

In the meantime, I'll keeping pushing on.  Because I know I can.

St. Patty's Day Dash and other sunshiny activities

It's March in Seattle.  The time of year when the weather develops it's own bipolar personality.  Today I went on a run around Green Lake with coworker/teammate Stephanie and Lucy (who seemed SO excited to get out the door, that I just couldn't leave her behind even though I knew she'd hate me 10 minutes into the run).

We started the run in the warm sunshine.  A couple minutes later, we felt a few sprinkles.  By the time we made it a quarter of the way around the lake, it was legitimately raining.  Then, by about halfway around, the skies had darkened to an evil grey and it began hailing on us.  My poor, hatless forehead (because silly me thought I didn't need one on this run) got pelted with little balls of ice painfully enough that we had to duck under the cover of some big trees.  Twice.  Of course, if I had actually worn the hat, none of this would have happened (thus is Seattle).  Then, by the time we made it all the way around the lake, the sun was back out and shining warmly.  As if we hadn't just had the most uncomfortable, cold, horrible run ever.

But sometimes this bipolar, unpredictable personality also works to my advantage.  Like this past weekend.  My plans included: an elementary school track meet, a Sounders game, and the St. Patty's Day Dash.  All of which take place outside.  And the forecast for the entire weekend: 90% chance of rain.  Cold.  Miserable.  Last year on this oh-so-eventful weekend, it even snowed.  And not the good kind of snow.  The wet, heavy, drippy snow that melts as soon as it hits the ground.

But the actual weather that Seattle chose to deliver for us for the weekend?  Beautiful, sunny, warm-ish, and fantastic.  Except for the track meet, so let's start there.

Well actually, let's start before that.  Because running is the most important thing, right?  I started off my Saturday by meeting Stephanie for a 7 AM run, since I'd be missing my TNT practice for the track meet.  We took off from my place, and by the time we made it halfway through the run, the gray, dull light of the sky and the weird time of day to be running had my internal time clock all out of whack.  I had to remind myself that it was 7:45 AM, not 4:45 PM, and I had a long, busy day ahead of me.

Now, the track meet.  I think that a K-2 track meet has to be one of the most entertaining sights I've seen.  I first experienced it a couple years ago when I went down to "spectate" because I had a number of kids on the track team and wanted to be a good, supportive teacher.  A K-2 elementary school track meet consists of 3 events: the 100 meter dash, long jump, and softball throw.  Nothing is measured, timed, or recorded.  It's all about enjoying being out there and active for these little ones.

Each event is beyond entertaining to watch.  In the 100 meter dash, you have the ones who sprint with all their little might to the finish line.  And then there are the ones that jog along, looking left and right, wondering why everyone is cheering for them to "go! go! go!"  In the softball throw, there seem to be two extremes as well.  The ones who lob the ball with every ounce of muscle they have, and then those that give it a lazy toss and walk away.  But the long jump is absolutely the best to watch.  They swing their arms, gather their energy, and focus.  And then with two feet ready to launch, they do a short little bunny hop.  It's so incredibly anticlimactic that you can't help but giggle.  For a little while I may have even forgotten that the weather was grey, blustery, cold, and beginning to rain by the time we left the field around noon.

From the track meet, I headed home to walk Lucy and get geared up for the Sounders game against the Portland Timbers.  This is a huge rivalry for Seattle, so I was excited, but also anticipating horrible weather with no cover at Century Link Field (AKA the Clink).  I prepared myself for the absolute worst.  I wore my winter coat with the rain jacket liner.  I put on rain boots.  I brought a poncho.  I brought gloves and a winter knit hat (handmade by my soon-to-be sister-in-law!).  But what did Seattle give us?  Sunshine.

Beautiful sunshine.

It was still very windy and chilly, but we survived it with that sunshine.

Those smiles were BEFORE the Timbers tied up the game in the 90th minute.

Then, after an appropriate amount of time out and about after the game, I headed home to get about 5 or so hours of sleep before the St. Patty's Day Dash.

I love the St. Patty's Day Dash.  Despite the typically rainy Seattle weather I've experienced at this race in the past, I've never been let down.  The beer garden after the run beats any other race day beer garden I've experienced.  But I guess we should talk about the actual race first.  I met this lovely group of misfit runners before the race start:

Teammate Alana, Erica, me, Ironman/Coach Joe, and Ironman/Coach Jason.
Love this picture.  Perfect excuse to wear my green sparkle skirt again.

We pushed our way to the front of the race start and took off right on time.  I can't say that I was feeling at the top of my game after the Sounders game the night before, but I had tried to hydrate and eat when I woke up in the morning.  I didn't really expect much from this race besides just getting through it then heading straight to the beer garden to celebrate all that is good about Irishness.

The course is basically the same as the Hot Chocolate Run two weeks before, just shorter.  It starts at Seattle Center, heads straight up 99 to the Aurora bridge, then turns around and comes back down.  Not super pretty or exciting.  But at least the second half is all downhill.  And there are lots of costumes and funnily dressed people to look at and distract yourself.  Erica, Alana, and I stuck together the whole way, criticizing and complimenting wardrobe choices, and yelling at running friends we saw along the way.

When we crossed the finish line in front of the EMP, we checked our watches and were all sincerely surprised by what we had just done.

My Nike+ watch kindly told me that this run included the fastest 5K, 1K,
and mile I'd logged to date.

The overall average pace for the entire race was 7:55 min/mile.  I don't think I've ever logged a run with an average pace under 8:00.  I'll definitely take this as a win with pride, especially considering that I wasn't feeling in top form and hadn't had a ton of sleep.  With what happened here and at the Hot Chocolate Run, maybe I should just go to a Sounders game before every race I do.  It seems to work for me.

I won't be testing that theory before this weekend's Mercer Island Half Marathon though.  I've got lofty hopes for that one.

After the feel-good finish, we rushed to grab our free shirt from the Brooks tent (a nice little leprechaun-inspired tech tee), grab our checked bags, and get to the beer garden.  Highlights of the beer garden include:
1)  Green beer, made green by a smart former teammate who toted food coloring to the race.
2)  Lots of TNT friends.
3)  Epic beer cup towers.
4)  Epic beer cup towers craftily and satisfyingly destroyed by elastic, rubber band-like bracelets (Alana gets all credit for that one).
5)  Coach Shelby dancing.
6)  The most rousing game of mini-beach ball volleyball I've ever seen.
7)  And, of course, the devil:

Look at his bib number!  And his shirt is pretty
awesome too.

And look at the sunshine in the window.  The day turned out to be gorgeous.

So, I guess I can't really complain about today's sunshiny, rainy, hailstorm of a run.  Because I had a great weekend.  And even if the fabulousness of the weekend can't really be attributed to the weather, I'm still grateful for the sunshine.  Because every day is unpredictable.  So I'm going to do my best to enjoy what I've got while I've got it.  I'll worry about what's coming next when it gets here.

On social running

Let's take a step back in time for a moment and think about Tessa as a beginning runner back in NYC.  There was the day I finally acknowledged Lucy's alternate personality (Lucifer) and decided the dog park was no longer an option.  Then the day we took those first few running steps out the door.  There's the hilarious episode of me dragging Lucy down the sidewalk.  And of course, the day I finally made it all the way around the cemetery.

*Side note: When I started this blog a year and a half ago, the purpose was to tell the story of how Lucy and I started running, which is why those posts refer to past events, etc.  Read the chronological story from the beginning if you're interested and have a spare day or two.

Back when all those events occurred, I had absolutely NO intention of running with others.  My running was about tiring Lucy out in as efficient a way as possible with the added benefit of me getting healthier.  It was something I wanted as few people to see me doing as possible.  I ducked my head as cars passed by.  I was the typical New Yorker who didn't make eye contact if anyone passed me on the sidewalk, dragging my dog behind me.

But then I moved to Seattle.  And I convinced myself to run my first half marathon.  I saw people with running friends (many of them purple-shirted) and, after a year and a half of solo+dog running, I felt a twinge of desire for my own running friends.  It was another 6 months before the TNT flyer came in the mail and I decided to go to the info meeting, where I was immediately convinced to fork over my registration fee and sign on the dotted line.

I was terrified to go to the first team practice.  It had been just Lucy and me for so long, and we had our pace and our routes and our rhythm.  And now, I had to leave Lucy behind and go run with people.  As a person who hadn't quite broken out of her shell completely yet and grown into her Seattle shyness-free skin, this was unbelievably intimidating.

I quickly learned, though, that running with others makes running better.  Especially when you have to run really far.  Running with friends is fun, carefree, and easier.  I began looking forward to our long Saturday runs and Tuesday workouts.

But I still relished my solo runs with Lucy.  Running was my internal therapy.  As I ran, I stomped out all the frustration, pounded the worries into the pavement, and let the stress slide down my spine and onto the sidewalk behind me.  I thought I had to be alone with music blaring in my earbuds for all this to happen.

After that first TNT season, I missed my running friends but was happy to get back to just me and Lucy running.  I was happy to use running as my selfish time to think about me and only me (and Lucy, who is a part of me).  But after a while, I started getting that twinge again.  The desire to run with people.

By the time I signed up for my second TNT season, Seattle had done it's job of splitting my shyness shell wide open so that I could step out into the world unencumbered for the first time.  Now I was really starting to like being a social runner.  I had Saturday and Tuesday practices, but I also began scheduling runs with my new-found running friends outside of these practices. On a random Wednesday, Thursday, or Sunday, I'd meet up with others to run (this was, in fact, the beginning of Erica and I's running partnership).

In that second season, and in the third, as I trained for marathons 2 and 3, I grew to love social running, but still wanted at least one day a week with just Lucy and me.  One day to collect my thoughts and run alone.  I was sad if I overbooked my social exercise schedule and didn't get some just-me-and-Lucy time in.

Even just this past fall, as I was training for Goofy in TNT season #4, I still enjoyed a solo run once a week or so.  But then Lucy began fully embracing her middle age, and her energy levels began showing it.  As my speed was increasing, her desire to get out and run was diminishing.  Until finally I realized that I needed to delegate runs with Lucy to slow, short recovery days or simply no runs at all.

Then suddenly, as Lucy started fading from my running life, my desire to run with other people increased tremendously.  And now, here I am at the point where Lucy gets her 30 minutes of walking exercise every morning and leaves me lonesome for my post-work runs.  While this is a huge and bittersweet turning point in life with Lucy (that I'm simply not going to expound upon in this post), it has opened up my schedule to run with others.

On a positive note, to distract from this minor Lucy sadness,
we sniffed out some signs of spring on our walk this morning!

I'm am embracing becoming a social runner.  I realized today that I've gotten to the point that I am beginning to dread solo runs.  Maybe it's because I'm pretty happy in life right now, and I don't have a lot of angst, frustration, anxiety, or stress to work out on my own therapeutic solo runs.  Or maybe it's because I've realized that running with friends serves just the same purpose and in a much more positive-feeling way.

Regardless of the reasons, I have transformed into a whole-heartedly social runner.  So far this week, I ran with Team on Saturday, a recovery run with Lucy on Sunday (the first run with her in weeks and only because Erica decided she wanted to run longer than my recovery length), another team run Tuesday, a much needed gossip-filled run with Erica on Wednesday, and tonight I ran with Ironman/Coach Jason, Ironman/Coach Joe, and another teammate Alana.  In fact, tonight I found myself with multiple options of groups of friends to run with (the group I ran with, the boys from Team, or my teacher running clubbers), which amazes me slightly.  How have I become so spoiled with running friends when just 4 years ago I was pining away for simply one?  The thought that I'm going to need to run solo on Saturday morning before heading out to coach my first elementary school track meet has me a little sad.  60 minutes on my own?  It just doesn't seem right anymore.

But I'll make it through those measly 60 minutes, and then I'll get up early Sunday morning to meet up with a multitude of runner friends and run the St. Patty's Day Dash.  Can't wait to run with you all.

Hills and LucYoga

My facebook news feed has been filled with complaints about Daylight Savings today.  I find this silly.  Don't you know what Daylight Savings means?  Sunlight!  Saved until the end of the day!  One more wonderful hour of daylight after work!  Boo hoo, you lost an hour of sleep.  I call that sacrifice for the greater good.  Sacrifice for sunshine.

Time taken: 6:15.  It would have totally been getting dark already at this time
yesterday.

And look!  45 minutes later (7:00!), dusk has just begun.

Hallelujah, the dark days are done!  Also, if we remember from a few weeks ago while I was stuck in the February doldrums, today also signifies Chuck Norris's International Day of Awesomeness.  What did you do to prove your awesomeness today?  I did a few things, which I will expound upon herewith, but first I want to talk about yesterday's impromptu day of awesomeness as well.

Yesterday's practice with Team was at Lake Youngs in Renton.  I believe I've talked about Lake Youngs here before, but for those who don't know: Lake Youngs is not actually a lake.  It is a reservoir completely surrounded by trees and a chain link fence.  Along the outside of the chain link fence is a 9 mile loop trail around the entire reservoir.  While on the trail, there is exactly one spot where you can see the "lake" for just a second as you go running by.  If you're going the right direction and know where to look.

Lake Youngs is also very hilly.  There are, in fact, very few flat parts.  It goes up and down, sometimes in rolling hills, and sometimes in big climbs.  Lake Youngs in not an easy course.

Nonetheless, despite the deceiving name and numerous hills, this is one of my favorite runs.  It feels like a real trail tucked back in the woods.  There's nature and stuff.  I've seen deer here before.  And I've heard rumors that a TNT coach once even stumbled upon a bear that luckily was on the other side of the chain link fence.  And, I think I'm finally beginning to admit to myself that I actually like hills.  They make the run interesting.  They make you work hard, which makes you feel better at the end.  And on yesterday's run, I felt great.

Not to mention, it was an absolutely beautiful sunshiny day.  [I realize I should have a photo here of said beautiful day.  Blogger fail.]

This TNT season is interesting for me.  My past 3 seasons, I've had Erica to run with.  We've become steadfast running partners, and in the past couple years I'd say that about 95% of my long runs have been with Erica.  But this season, as I may have mentioned once or twice, she's coaching.  So no more running buddy for me.  Instead, I seemed to have fallen into pace with the lead group at practice, which just happens to be all boys (or should I say men?  I don't know).  

Running with the boys is different.  When there's conversation, the topics aren't quite the same.  There's no catching up on all the details of the weekly gossip.  And the whole "running together" thing feels different too. Erica and I always stick together.  If one of us is having a slow (or fast) day, the other adjusts to the necessary pace.  But with the boys, we seem to come together, and then fall apart, and then come together as the run progresses.  By the end of yesterday's run, we were all spread out with about 400 feet between each of us.  I could still see them up ahead or hear them behind, but we were all in one big line.  

While I didn't start my running career as a social runner (me and Lucy and the road was all I wanted), I have certainly become a social runner.  I'd just prefer to stay lumped together in one group.  Hopefully as the runs start to get longer, the boys will see some value in sticking together, instead of speeding ahead.  But maybe it's just a boy thing.  We shall see.

One good thing about running with the boys though, is that I am definitely pushing my paces, which makes me a happy lady.  If I can keep 8:30 paces during long runs for the rest of the season, I'll be ecstatic.

Miles 5 and 7 were water stops where I was a good little TNTer who
follows directions and didn't stop my watch.

After the run and breakfast with the team, I came home, walked Lucy for about an hour, cleaned a bit, and then treated myself to an evening that included Thai take out, wine, and Hulu.  When my Hulu queue was emptied, I found some Netflix movies, and I finally came up with a viable reason for why I never really watch movies.  They make me sad.  Whether they're comedies, dramas, action, or an indie, I'm always left with a bittersweet, sad taste in my mouth.  I'm sticking with Glee and Top Chef from here on out.

This morning, I woke up refreshed, energized, and not even worried about that lost hour of sleep.  Because it  is Daylight Savings time!!  Can you tell I'm excited about that?  Have I mentioned it enough?  I celebrated by starting the day with what I have now decided to call LucYoga (pronouced Lucy-Yoga, but cleverly squished together with a shared Y.  I so smart).

No, LucYoga is not going to be the new fad in the exercise world.  It's not as cool as Yogilates or CrossFit or any of those other things.  Plus, if you wanted to do LucYoga at home, you'd have to get your own Lucy. I don't share.

LucYoga came about when Lucy decided that she wanted to "help" me with my Sunday morning yoga.  Because she simply doesn't like to be ignored for an hour, so she may as well try to join in.  She tends to start off a little aloof, though.

"Oh, are you ignoring me?  I'll stay right here, but I'm ignoring you too."

As we progress through the first 15 minutes, she begins to help a little.

"I'll just hold your feet up for you.  No problem."

Then she slowly inches closer and closer.  For "support."

"It's like I'm a wall.  You can try to push me out of the way,
but I won't go anywhere!"

As we begin to work up a sweat, she is happy to help out in that area too.

"Don't worry mom, you won't have to shower.  I'll take care of it!"

But as with any 6-year-old, after about 45 minutes, she gets a little bored with helping.

"Hey! Look at this ball.  It's a pretty cool ball.  I'll nose it just a little closer to
your face so you can see it."

But she's most talented with "final relaxation."  As soon as I lay down and close my eyes, she joins right in.

"Oh are you done now?  I'm sleepy.  I don't need to play
anymore."

And there you have it.  LucYoga.  The hot new yoga trend.  Your own Lucy required.

Side note: So happy that me, Erica, and MacKenzie got a pedicure 2 weeks ago so my toes were nice and pretty for this LucYoga demo.

After being such a good helper, I pulled Lucy right out of bed and we went for a 30 minute run around Green Lake.  She's actually quite helpful at keeping me at recovery pace, which is why these are the only runs she joins me on anymore.  Anything faster than recovery pace, and she's not such a happy camper.

That tired her out, and now she's seems to be quite offended by that fact that my feet are popping her personal bubble.

I mean really, how dare I pop her bubble.  I think we may
need to have a heart to heart soon about whose couch
this really is.

To continue the International Day of Awesomeness, after getting cleaned up from the active morning, I did some planning for work for a couple hours and even went grocery shopping and made dinner.  Not too bad of a way to spend this day to celebrate the sun and Chuck Norris.

But, the sun has finally set which means that bedtime is encroaching.  Happy Daylight Savings Day!  Enjoy your sunshine.

Sunshine Day

I took a million pictures of the sun on my walk with Lucy after work today.

I'm a true Seattlite.  I worship the sun when it chooses to deign me with it's
presence.

I tried to get Lucy to pose for a picture in the sun, but she was nonplussed.

She wanted to get back to her sniffing.

And now she is perched on the couch, staring out into the sunshine, sniffing all the fresh air smells wafting in through the window I just opened for the first time since last fall.  She seems just as enthused as me to finally be able to air out this stuffy apartment a bit.

Prettily posed.

Her mood seems perfectly matched to mine right now.  Contemplative, thoughtful, curious and subdued.  We've both got things on our minds.  While her thoughts are most likely much less involved than mine, they seem to consume her just as equally.

The past few weeks have flown by so busily that I haven't had a whole lot of time to just think.  So on this beautiful Friday evening, I'm making the choice to just think.  During stolen moments in the in-betweens of my busy times lately, I've been thinking a lot about "life," and the way it fluidly changes over time, sometimes abruptly and sometimes so slowly that you don't even notice if you aren't paying close attention.  Sometimes change is by choice and sometimes not.  Sometimes I feel like the only constant in my life is change (in fact, I believe I wrote a post about just that topic back in the beginning days of this blogging experiment).  So I'm going to expound upon life and change here for a bit.  I apologize in advance if I wax too philosophical for you, but I'm feeling a bit nostalgic today.  Beautiful days do that to me sometimes.

All these thoughts were sparked recently by a post I saw on Facebook.  I know that sounds lame, but let me explain.  I follow a photography blogger on Facebook who goes by the name of HONY (Humans of New York).  HONY takes pictures of people of all shapes and sizes in NYC and accompanying the picture posts will often include a few quotes from the person in the picture as they describe their lives in whatever manner they deem appropriate.  While I am not shy in expressing my disdain for living in NYC, there are things that I  truly miss about it.  NYC is a city like no other, filled with people like no other.  And by following this blogger, I get to have a small taste now and then of all the things that I did (and still do) adore about NYC.  His pictures are beautiful, funny, witty, sad, charming, bittersweet, and intriguing.  So when one pops up on my news feed, I can't help but click and take a look.

This one, along with the quote below it, appeared a couple days ago:

"I did a little bit of everything. Was never great at anything... but I survived."

I hope I'm not breaking any copyright laws by reposting it here, but I've given full credit (here's HONY's non-Facebook website too).

Everything about this image and those words tore at my heartstrings.  It was like something clenched inside my heart and made me want to cry for this man.  This surprised me, because I am not typically someone who grows overcome with emotion at pictures of random strangers.  I'm not emotional or dramatic by nature.  But I felt incredibly sad for this man.  I hoped beyond hope that there were many wonderful times left out of this little summary of his life.

What was it that struck me so deeply?  I'm not really sure, but I think it's a combination of things.  The beautifully composed picture.  The far-off contemplative stare.  The cane hooked and waiting on the railing.  And the words.  The simple summation of life that he was never great at anything, but "I survived."  Is surviving really enough?

But most of all what struck me deepest was the fact that this fully alive man was sitting here on this stoop talking about his life in the past tense.  As if it was already done.  As if it was over and he is simply waiting it out until the end now.

I exist on a very different side of life than this man.  I look at where I am and think that life has barely started for me.  I'm not ready to think that one day I may talk in the past tense about my own life.  Doesn't he still have hope?  Can't he still find that one great thing?  What made him give up?  I want to know his story.

Maybe I am being too judgmental and inferring too much from a simple picture and simple words, but one can't help but think.  It's the simplest things that make you think the most sometimes.

In reality though, this image creates a desire to know what my own story will be.  I want to know how I'm going to write my story.  I wonder, if I am lucky enough to grow to be an old woman one day, how will I talk about my life?  How will I feel about the choices I made?  Will I be proud?  Will I be sad?  Will I smile or frown as I reflect back?  Will I talk in the past tense or will I continue living all the way up to the end?

I can't know the answers to these questions.  No one can.  But there is something I can do.  I can choose to make life great.  I can choose to live each day as if someone will be talking about me in the past tense tomorrow.

And not to brag or anything, but I think I'm doing a pretty good job of that.  I know what I love.  I love teaching and running and Lucy and friends and family and Seattle.  I love being active and I love being lazy. I love sunshine and I love the rain.  I love being around people and I love being by myself.  I love being busy and I love doing nothing.

Each day, I try to surround myself by the things I love as much as possible.  And I think that is all any of us can really do.  All we can do is simply try to be the happiest we know how to be.

So I'm going to keep doing that.  It's the best plan I've got, so I'm sticking to it.  Until things change.

Happy Sunshine Day.

Hot Chocolate 15K: I'm lucky I even finished

I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.  It was exhausting.  But all for the sake of good times, good friends, and good running.

When I signed up for the Hot Chocolate 15K, I was excited.  When I got tickets for the opening match of the Sounders season, I was excited.  And then I realized that both events were happening on the same weekend.  I was still excited, but also a little scared.  And that isn't the half of it.

Even if this weekend was long and busy though, I had a blast.  Because it reminded me of just how much I love Seattle.  It reinforced the thought that Seattle is, most definitely, my home.

Friday evening, after getting home from work and taking Lucy out for a quick walk, I met up with some teammates for a non-running social potluck get-together.  I got to see some people in normal clothes for the first time.  We chatted, ate, enjoyed some beers, and I was reminded of exactly why I love all my wonderful teammates.  Yes, we all love to run, but we are tied together by a cause that is much bigger than us.  I smiled to myself as I headed home to try to rest up for Saturday morning's run.

I woke up Saturday morning and headed up to Red Hook for what should have been an 80 minute run, which I shortened to a 45 minute (5 mile) run to keep my legs fresh for the 15K on Sunday.  I hung around practice until everyone finished, and as I left practice, I smiled.  Because on a Saturday morning, I don't want to be doing anything else but running with my team.  Not even sleeping in (most of the time). 

Then I headed to Seattle Center to pick up my race packet for the Hot Chocolate 15K.  This took way longer than it should have due to crappy parking and my lack of navigation skills in Seattle Center, but I accomplished the feat and headed back home to get ready for the Sounders game.

Once I was home and showered and Lucy had her long walk, I had about an hour to sit and unwind before heading downtown.  I took an accidental nap, which made me smile.  Accidental naps are the best.  There's nothing like being able to allow your body to fall asleep just when it wants to.  More often in my life, when my body desires sleep, I don't get to give in.  It feels wonderful to give in sometimes.

When I woke up, I hopped in the car with my HLM Sierra and started the journey towards downtown.  We headed to my friend Cristin's first, had some champagne, and then bussed it towards the stadium.  We went to our typical pre-Sounders game bar and saw our Sounders game crew, plus a few additions too.

Yay friends!  Yay Sounders!  Yay extra large plastic cups of beer!

As we sat at the bar, a literal downpour started outside.  It had been an otherwise dry, great day until just about time to head into the stadium.  But I smiled anyways.  Because I live in Seattle, and that is what happens in my city.

Century Link Field is still a pretty awesome sight to see, regardless of the
rain.

At the game, we all spread out to our respective seats, and Sierra and I got to have some quality HLM time (of which there has been far too little lately).

It's rainy.  It's cold.  The Sounders are losing.  But we're still smiling.

After the game, we headed to our typical post-Sounders game bar and saw more friends.  Then we moved on to the Boxcar (a bar I once called home back in the day) to see even more friends.  I limited my alcohol intake after the game and re-hydrated, but when all was said and done, I didn't get home until about 2:30 AM.

I tried to smile and laugh.  Despite how difficult that was.

Because at 5:15 AM, my alarm went off.  It was time to run the Hot Chocolate 15K.

After rolling out of bed, hastily choosing an outfit, and pushing myself out the door, I headed towards Seattle Center to meet Erica and Ana at Ana's place.  I got detoured a few times due to road closures, but I made it there and then we walked towards the start.  To say I was tired would be a bit of an understatement, but otherwise I felt pretty good.

We got to the start around 7:20 (for a 7:40 start) and the corrals were eerily empty.  As we stood there trying to stay warm in the close to freezing temps, wondering if anyone else was showing up for this race, the 9,000 people that registered for it started trickling in.

In our empty corral.  If those aren't the definition of tired eyes, I don't know
what is.

We eventually spotted another teammate, Regan, outside the corral and she came in the hang with us and start the race.  Luckily, the race started right on time, but for some reason the officials decided to send corrals off with 3 minutes in between.  I found this to be a little ridiculous considering the size of the race (I'm sure 1-1.5 minutes would have been more than adequate), but we were only in the 3rd corral, so we were off pretty quick.

My body kicked into gear, as it typically does at the start of a race.  The adrenaline of the start and the excitement of those around me always speeds up my legs at the beginning of the race.  Surprisingly, I was feeling pretty good.

Me, Erica, and Ana all stuck together for the first 5K and ran around an 8:35 pace.  We chatted as we ran and made it down, and then up, the first hefty hill. 

The first of MANY hefty hills.

This course was the opposite of flat.  It started by leaving Seattle Center, heading down Broad (I was so glad to be going down this hill at the start instead of up it at the end like in the Torchlight 8K) and then down Western towards Pike Place.  At Pike Place, it veered off to the right, down the hill towards the waterfront behind the Market.  Anyone who is familiar with Seattle knows that this road is not clean or pretty.  Once we got to the bottom of the hill, we turned around and ran right back up it to merge onto the on-ramp of 99 just before the tunnel.  Let's just say that I wasn't super enthused about this portion of the course.

And I also knew what was coming next.  After running through the tunnel, we ran ALL (that's caps, bold, italic, and underlined) the way up 99 to just past the exit towards Green Lake at 45th.  We hit the first 5K mark after coming out of the tunnel, and Erica kind of took off at that point.  All three of us had attended the Sounders game the night before, but Erica had been the only smart one to go home right after the game.  Ana and I weren't quite feeling the speed.

While running up the massively long 3 mile hill on 99, Ana and I managed to keep somewhere between a 9 and 9:10 pace.  Considering my condition, I'm pretty happy with this.

As we rounded back down 99 for this long, boring out and back, we picked our pace back up to the 8:40 range and then 8:30 for the last mile plus.  Luckily, running uphill for so long, means you get to run back downhill on the way back. 

The finish was as disappointing as the rest of the course as we exited 99, entered Seattle Center, and climbed one more slight hill for finish right in the middle of Seattle Center.  Ana and I finished together in 1 hour and 22 minutes.  And it wasn't quite as painful as I thought it would be.  And there was hot chocolate, chocolate fondue, and lots of dippables at the finish.  That was kind of tasty.

Here are the splits for those interested:

Considering I was functioning on 2.5 hours of sleep, I'm pleased with these times.

Despite my lack of sleep and how tough and boring this course was, I still had a lot of fun.  I don't think it had anything to do with the actual race though.  As I ran this race, I realized that I've developed a community of friends and support in Seattle that I've never had anywhere else.

I started the race with friends.  As I ran, I saw more.  Christie was standing on the Aurora bridge cheering people on.  I passed my principal coming back across the bridge.  I yelled at Regan as she was running out and we were running back.  Yanni yelled at me from across the road as I came in towards the finish.  Dorothy was there cheering us on as we crossed the finish line.  As I enjoyed hot chocolate and chocolate fondue at the end, I saw another co-worker.  I knew I had more co-workers and more teammates out there on the course too.  And this wasn't even a team-affiliated event.

As I saw all these people, my smile grew wider and wider.  Somehow, in the 4 and a half years that I've been here in Seattle, I've become a part of a community.  Or many communities, I guess.  I have friends I've met throughout the years.  I have my running friends.  I have my co-workers who I've happily watched become more and more physically active over the years.  I have many people I care about, and many who care about me.

And when I think of how much my life has flourished here in Seattle, I can't help but compare it to NYC.  Who knows where my life would have led me had I stayed in that city, but I was suffocating there.  I had a couple good friends, but that was it.  That was life.  Here in Seattle, life is so much more.  

The surprising (but not surprising) thing about it all is that this wonderful life I've created for myself seems to revolve around running.  Running seems to be the common denominator in everything that makes me happy and keeps me sane.

Of course, other factors are involved.  First graders make me happy.  So does this ball of energy:

Someone felt a little neglected this weekend...

But running seems to be the string that ties all the happy pieces together.  And Seattle seems to be that background that helped it all happen.  

After the race, I went home and crashed into bed.  I slept until about 3:00, woke up to attend our Winter Team Reunion party, and then came home and was asleep again by 8:30.  

All in all, not a bad weekend.  Time to gear up for the next one.