Mom Running

You guys. Running as a mom is SO tough.

Some days you win; some days you come home and take a shower sitting down.

I had high hopes that Boston 2019 would be the year that brought the magic number. I'd run 3 seasons of track, ran 4 20 milers instead of my usual 3, ran from Hopkinton to Newton twice, and ran the Newton Hills in practice. I had a fast long run a week before Boston that was the fastest I'd run since 2012. The second time I ran the course, it was 50 degrees and I ran 21 miles at an 8:54 pace. I could do it. I could break 4 hours at Boston. (I've run sub 4 hours at other marathons, but Boston is a beast.)

I was so excited! The weather was all over the place, from a forecasted nor'easter at 45 degrees with rain and 20mph headwinds, to 65 degrees with a 15mph tail/crosswind. This teetered on too hot, but I felt like I could still do it. I even met a red wave superstar friend at Athlete's Village before she took off. This was our year!

I set off with the Striders towards the start. Our yellow wave wouldn't be separated by corrals due to some confusing forecasts for the day, and after last year, the BAA was looking to get everyone out sooner in case the weather got ugly. We made sure we were right behind the blue wave, among the first yellows to get out. Louise and I were very happy to see some friendly faces at the start!!

(My face when I see John J. for a hug at mile 0.0!!)

Sooo... it was humid. And my training on the course had allowed me to study and learn it well, knowing when to hold back and when to push. I also know I have a track record (HA) of nausea and pukage when conditions are warmer than I'm used to. I also knew I had the world's best kid waiting for me on the other end, and I didn't want to go home sick to her.

I spent the whole race worrying about whether I was going to be sick for her. "Hold back. Hold back. Hold back. Well, crap. Don't hold back that much. Hold back. Ok you can run one 8:30. Hold back! You're going to regret this. Crap, another 8:30. Hold back. Hold back." .... FOR HOURS.

I got to the halfway feeling good, but kind of knowing that the humidity was causing me to work harder than I'd have liked, for the times I was churning out. Who knows. Wasn't it supposed to rain later? Man that sun was hot. Meh. "Put one foot in front of the ooothhherrrrr!" Hold back.

So happy to find my cheer squad at mile 13.4! I would have missed them if it wasn't for Jen's awesome sign!

I chugged along, still kind of knowing that I was working harder than I should be, but thinking it could be ok. My pace was reasonably on track, and not ahead of track. "Hold back. Hold back." I was so happy to successfully find my mom at the Newton Fire House, and was ready to tackle those hills! I remembered from training that the first hill at 17 is the biggest, and giggled remembering my running buddy's groaning from a month earlier. If I could do it then, I could do it now. I felt strong. Hold back.

Then I found my dad at 20, and I still wasn't worried about the Newton Hills. I took on Heartbreak fairly easily, thinking this really might be ok. "Hold back. Hold back." I found another friend at the top of Heartbreak, and thought "This is it! You made it! You don't have to hold back anymore!" All I had to do was run a 9 minute pace for the last 5 miles and I'd run a 3:59. "Go! Go! Go! ...." Annnnnd on came the nausea. I might puke. Welp, that's that.

Around 20 I noticed that I didn't want to drink any more water, and more fuel was definitely not going to sit well. This had happened before though, and I shrugged it off. Maybe that last push over Heartbreak brought my lactic acid up enough to do me in.

The last 5 were a struggle. The 3:59 that had been within reach quickly became 4:07. NO. I was not going to edge on a stupid 4:09 AGAIN. (I'm nothing if not consistent?! Sheesh!) But I also didn't want to go home sick to Zoe. My 9:11 pace slowed to a 10-11 minute run/walk in the last 5 miles. It finally started to rain and I welcomed the cool breeze, but it was too late. I was already on the verge of puking. I approached the "1 mile to go" sign and told myself NO MORE WALKING and swore this was the gutsiest race I had ever run (it always feels that way in the moment) and that if my XC coach from high school knew how I felt, he would be proud.

I got to mile 26 down the longest stretch of Boylston EVER, and my watch read 4:03:38. This meant I had 1:20 to run the last 0.2, which is faster than an 8 minute pace, when I was already feeling like I was going to puke. "DIG DEEP," I told myself -- "just do the best you can, and *maybe* you can hit that backup time of 4:04. Probably not, but you won't get it if you don't try. GO!"

4:05:08. It was so frustrating. SO much frustration over a matter of seconds- that's what Boston does to you. (You can see me check my watch as I cross the finish at the end of this super cool Adidas video)

Stopping after the finish, I immediately felt like I was going to pass out. Blood pressure can drop a lot when you stop running. I really didn't want to get stuck in cold wet clothes- I just needed to get back to the MVS bus so I could change and go home. But man those wheelchairs looked inviting. I accepted a medal, a snack bag, and a space blanket, but passed on the heavy 16oz bottle of water and banana that I swear would have taken me down. Those volunteers are awesome.

Just... find... the bus....

I was very sweetly greeted by an awesome crew of Striders, and John J and another MVSer guided me back to the bus. The world was swirling around me. "I might need a bag to throw up in," I begged poor John, who took such good care of me. My dad was eagerly waiting outside the bus as planned to drive me back. Luckily for everyone, when I sat down, the blood was able to return to my extremities as my blood pressure returned to normal, and I didn't end up needing the bag John got for me. Somehow I changed and made it out to my dad's car after what felt like an eternity, and we made the drive home.

I hobbled into the garage, opened the door, and the best kid ever was sitting there, waiting to greet me like an adorable puppy. I put on my best game face and gave her a big hug before continuing to hobble upstairs. I got in the shower, and sat down.

Ugh. I just needed to sit, right? Maybe if I just sit here for another minute... just one more minute...

"MOM!? ARE YOU OK?!"

Yep. I think. Just one more minute...

Eventually I made it out and thought if I could just get some food in me, maybe I'd be ok. And you know what? It was ok. Barely. I'd barely made it back to the bus, barely made it without puking,  barely made it out to dinner- if I'd pushed it anymore, I'm not sure any of those things would have been true, and I really didn't want to do that to Zoe.

"Are you putting me to bed?" she asked me that night.
"Oh sweetie, Dad's going to put you to bed."
"But I want to be with the marathon girl!"

How can you say no to that?! This is why I'd held back. I wanted to be there for her.

I'd done the best I could. But where had I gone wrong? Boston 2019 was a tough day for a lot of people. It's really hard to transition from training at 30 degrees to running in sunny 65 degrees with humidity. If your body is acclimated to the temperature like a Kenyan, it's different. Training for Boston in chilly Boston winters is tough.

My legs were totally fine. I ran several times that week at fast paces, seemingly trying to convince myself that I was, in fact, more in shape than a 4:05 at Boston. AGGHHHH

I read somewhere that temps around 65 can decrease your performance by 4%. 4% of 4:05 would give me a 3:55. Rawr. I also read that the average finish time this year was 4 minutes faster than last year. So I'm average?! Because last year I ran a 4:09, and this year I ran a 4:05. Average. Psh. All those changes and I'm just maintaining last year's fitness?? AGGGGHHHHHHH

I spent the next few weeks not being able to get out of my head, convinced there was something wrong with me. This was more than "You're just getting older," which several people tried to tell me. Why was puking my thing?? Stupid lactic acid.

In the meantime, the Vermont marathon in Burlington is looming just around the corner. I ran 20 yesterday which was ok until about mile 16, when I puttered out, and then spent the next 3 hours on the couch/ in bed. Whaaaattttt was I doinggggg???

And then I ran a 5K this morning and ran a great time, especially considering yesterday's long run. Maybe I would be ok...

Fingers crossed for agreeable weather in Burlington, 3 weeks from today. If breaking 4 at Boston means giving up more time with this girl, (or giving up more sleep, or neglecting my job, etc) then it's not something I need. This is what running 40-50 miles a week gets me. During the school year, at least, I will not ever have time for 70-80 mile weeks without letting something else go.

Mom running. Anything for this kid!

The Long Term

Boston 2019.

Recently during training, I've been thinking a lot about a post our MVS track coach Sharon posted about a month ago. She got it from another coach friend from the UK:

"Athletes.... overestimate what they can do in the SHORT TERM,
but underestimate what they can do in the LONG TERM.

Short term and instant gratification is definitely a scourge of modern day life. Businesses, politicians and endurance athletes are all guilty of this behaviour.

Sustainable fitness takes years to develop and the process of doing so is not glamorous. Every single “breakthrough” workout where you bust your previous PB (and share on Facebook or Instagram) is accompanied by dozens and dozens of “humdrum” workouts which provide the foundation.

The possibilities for your future fitness are limitless. It’s true that you are only restricted by your mindset. Yes, there are genetic limits to what most of us can achieve but most of us don’t even come close to reaching those limits.

If I can share some advice as a coach (and if you are wondering, an athlete who has also had his share of chasing unrealistic goals) this is it….

Have compassion for your body, especially if you are recovering from injury, illness or you are just getting older
Be patient and understand that you can’t outrun a bad diet or outdo your physiology
Think about what happens beyond your next event
Be cautious about your short term goals and reckless with your long term goals
Focus on sustainable long term health and know that when you get the basics right the great performances will follow
Forget about the clock and emphasise mastery of the process." - Simon Ward

How many small changes have been made over the years that can help long term progress? (This mindset/ side effect of running is one of my favorites.)

1. It started 10 years ago with a friend convincing me to run a half marathon. I'll never forget the first day she "made" me run 9 miles and I was terrified and pained and ate so much bacon after. (*Ok so it really started 20 years ago when I ran in high school, but there was a 5-6 year hiatus after that, so does it really count? Meh.)

2. 8 years ago, I signed up for my first marathon. I set out for the first time with my water belt to run 10 miles on a hot summer day and thought, "WHAT was I THINKING?!?"

3. 7 years ago, I joined a track club and ran my second marathon.

4. Then we had Zoe. This was a whole different brand of running. I ran 7 marathons, all around 4 hours, and 4 days/wk of running 30 miles/wk. 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017. It turns out if you do the same thing over and over again, your results stay the same. :) 3:59. 4:10. 4:09. 3:57. 4:12. I ran some fast halfs (halves? Halfs.) but there is a big difference between running a 1:45 half and a 4 hour marathon. Getting over that 16 mile glycogen slump is tricky.

(Remember Coach Tom Derderian's quote on NPR? "It is not that hard for a healthy person to move her body over 26 miles. The real trick, and the real challenge, is to do so quickly.")

Last year I found it within me to make little changes without upending the balance of time with Zoe and school responsibilities, etc.
     5. I ran 5 days a week instead of 4.
     6. I'd go out and run 6 miles at a time instead of 5.
     7. I ran 15 milers on my cut-back weeks instead of 12.
     8. I bought a treadmill. These filled in the gaps when it had previously been too dark, too cold, too snow-stormy, whatever, to be able to run or make it to the gym.

Those changes resulted in another 4:09 at Boston 2018 but with a 27mph headwind, personally I translate to a time drop of at least 10 minutes ;) CHANGE MY MIND.

This year has brought a totally different routine of getting to pick Zoe up from kindergarten!! at 2:45, changing my availability at school, and meaning I have to find more creative ways to fit in the miles. I've been managing to run 4-5 days a week. Mostly. BUT,

     9. I'm running track, which I have not done during a marathon training season since 2012.
    10. I'm running 20's every weekend, whereas I used to run 20-12-20-12-20.
    11. I always run the day after the long run, which I did inconsistently in the past. (And you know what? It's not that bad. It's actually nice since the last few miles I banged out were at the end of a 20 miler when I felt simply terrible, and the next day is a terrific reminder that this too shall pass!!)

It's hard to say what results this plan will bring, since my legs are definitely tired. Running track workouts on Thursdays makes for interesting Saturday long runs, and 3-20 miler's in a row has worn me out too.

Speaking of tired, I ran from Hopkinton to the base of Heartbreak Hill yesterday (20.5 miles- I'd forgotten that Heartbreak was at 21. How many times have we done this now?) - and it was...Boston. I knew it would be hard, and it didn't disappoint. Again, the first 5 miles of the course are downhill, which destroys your quads due to eccentric quad contraction. It's tough to find a route that mimics this, so training on the course is essential. I held back, knowing what was coming, and thank goodness I did. The halfway into Wellesley is also downhill, which always brings this unsettling feeling that the Newton hills are looming just around the corner.

("What goes down, must come up," I thought. "Wait... no. What comes down must go up?... No... What comes up, must go down? Oh for crying out loud.")

The Boston Marathon route is not pretty through the first half. Hopkinton and Ashland aren't bad, but there's a pretty long stretch through Framingham that's run down and/or commercialized. And yet, of course, we love it.

There's the pub on the left where everyone is out drinking at 11am. There's Brasili's restaurant in Framingham which always reminds me of Mike Brassil, and the Framingham train station. There's the hill where a very large man in a Santa suit stands every year. There's where the Wellesley girls cheer, and there's the church steeple that means I'm within minutes of finding Jon, Zoe, Jen, and Brooke at mile 14. There's the Wellesley library... there's Whole Foods... there's the Wellesley library... wait. There's 2 Wellesley libraries? ... There's where Jon and I stood in Wellesley the year of the bombing. There's the Newton Fire House.

Pulling up to the Newton-Wellesley hospital, and approaching the Newton Fire House, I always get the same mixed emotions. This is it. This is why we came. It's about to get EXCITING. But also, an image of Dustin Hoffman playing Hook, sharpening his hook on a stone while pinning Robin Williams/Peter Pan under the other arm, as he sneers in a British accent, "This is really going to hurt."

Yep. It sure did yesterday. My legs were so done, but also I'd forgotten to eat during the run. I need to get my race fueling back under control. My dad and I found each other around mile 20.5, as Heartbreak came into view. I'd set out to do 20, had done it, and wasn't feeling great. I considered trekking up the hill, considered the fact that I'd been faced with a similar choice last year and had fallen, and decided to get in the car. It wasn't a fail. I'd set out to do 20, and had underestimated how far Heartbreak was. I'll get it next time.

I giggled at some song lyrics I listened to yesterday, twisting them for what I needed: (Animals by Neon Trees.)

Here we are again
I feel the chemicals kickin' in
It's gettin' heavier
I wanna run and hide
I wanna run and hide
I do it every time
You're killin' me now
And I won't be denied by you
The animal inside of you

Oh, oh

I want some more

Oh, oh

What are you waitin' for?

Take a bite of (*Heartbreak) tonight

I think that's enough for tonight.

"Best wishes, and see you out there in 10 years time." -Simon Ward

4:09

Feeling some post-marathon blues that I'm going to use as fuel for inspiration. Remember how endorphins = endogenous morphine? I was on such a high last week (albeit borderline manic- "I NEED TO CHILL!" I texted inbetween carbo-loading and packing for my swim from Hopkinton to Boston...) You could say that Monday went swimmingly, Jen and I partied with our families that night, limped our way to lunch on Tuesday, and then I crashed.

Now what?

Welp, before we get to that, let's recap Monday.

The hardest part was getting to the start. The last few years have taken about 30 minutes to walk to the start, where you are lined up in sub-categories of corrals, before walk-bumping into everyone as you head down Main St of Hopkinton. This year the organizers tried so hard to get everybody out sooner, not just for the runners who had been standing in Athlete's Village for probably about 2 hours, but also for the volunteers who so wonderfully awaited our arrival. Turns out you can't really usher out 10,000 people very quickly, and it took us almost an hour to walk to the start. (Cut to 1:30 in the first video, below. Pretty good recap.)

Now this was really something special. Thousands of runners in ponchos, shuffling through pouring rain and wind, just to the START of 26.2 miles! What in the world were we doing?! I really wanted to take a video or photo but was certain my phone would meet its demise with the precipitation. Runners are always a bunch to make the best of things, and I looked around for groups making light of this ridiculousness. Truthfully, there weren't any people cracking jokes. It was pretty cold...

I'd left our cozy warm bus at 10:15am, and by the time I shuffled to the start at 11:15, I was freezing and it took my hands (and my stupid sprained knuckle) about 5 miles to warm up. But really all I could think about was how badly I felt for the volunteers, OFFERING to stand there, and not be able to run to warm up like we were. They're amazing.

As I got closer to Jon and Zoe at the halfway point in Wellesley, on pace at 2:03, I tried to decide whether I should change my jacket. I remembered thinking that changing coats had saved me in 2015; though I had run without a poncho. But the weather was worse this time. And I was already feeling the cold. Alright. So I planned to change.

I love her so much!! She was so happy with her cup of Gatorade ("apple juice," she calls it) and she said, "I love you, Mom," as Jon helped me with my coat. 2.5-3 minutes later, I hugged them goodbye, and continued on. Surely, a stop had never taken me quite so long, but I didn't care, with the forecasted 27mph headwinds to come.

The Newton Hills came and went, I and continued to be super impressed with the spectators and volunteers. Was I missing something? These people were seriously crazier than I was, standing out there like that. I teared up as I approached Heartbreak Hill, so inspired by the spectators. I tried to lighten the mood of the runners around me with a "WOOOOO!" ... but got nothing. "I wonder how Shalane did!" I said to a woman next to me. I got a sympathetic glance at best. Footsteps. Runners were in survival mode.

I thought about taking off my poncho as it was super annoying to have the wind hit the wall of plastic draping me, and it would twist around and hit me in the face, and it was challenging to get my hand out to accept water from the volunteers. I tried to predict what life would be like sans poncho by sticking my hands out for a few minutes, and noticed they'd quickly get cold (and my stupid knuckle would get sore,) and so I'd tuck them safely back in. The poncho had to stay- though I eventually tossed it over the fence at Mile 25, unlike the countless other runners who dumped them like Mario Kart banana peels all over Hereford Street.

My dad caught me at mile 20, Natalie at 20.5, and my mom caught me around 22, though I didn't see her. Hitting the downhill into Boston around Mile 21 was FABULOUS, and I'd meant to scold the sidewalk/scene of the crime where I'd fallen, but forgot as I went by. I was focused on getting my time down as the stop in Wellesley had cost me 3 minutes and the Newton Hills didn't help.

5 miles to go? Looking like a 4:14 finish.
4 miles to go? Looking like a 4:12 finish.
3 miles to go? Looking like a 4:12 finish.
2 miles to go? Looking like a 4:11 finish.
1 mile to go? Looking like a 4:11 finish.

(What else are you going to think about at that point?)

I hit the 26 mile marker and looked down at my watch, with a current time of 4:08. I was NOT going to get this close and run a stupid 4:10. My legs hurt A LOT but with no threat of puking, I happily booked it down the last 385 yards of Boylston Street and finished in 4:09:57 -- a 1 second PR for Boston. Cheerily I slogged back to the bus with the help of some wonderful MVS volunteers, posed for a photo, shakily peeled off my cold wet clothes, and went home to get ready to go out to dinner. Zoe and I even shared some delicious Doritos in the car on the way to dinner. Yes, this is an important part of the story. I wasn't puking!!!! (See my, "I'm not going to puke today!" smile below.)

Ergo, the 4:09:57 was not what I came for, but I'll take it. Plus if I hadn't stopped for 3 minutes? That would be a 4:07. But you can't play games like that. I did stop. And Monday was crazy. Anyway.

Comparing one Boston time to another is much like apples and oranges. The weather is such a huge variable that I find the closest thing to be an indicator of performance is analysis of finishing places. Last year I'd placed at 7370/12380 female starters (40th percentile), and this year I'd placed at 7182/12063 female starters (40th percentile). Again. Ugh. And I'd trained so much harder this year. Maybe I didn't taper enough. ARGHH.

I moped about my harder-effort-same-place-finish for several days before realizing the impact of that 3 minute stop. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't switched to a dry jacket? PLUS the qualifying cut-off time was faster this year than last year, so technically the field of women was overall faster. That counts too, right?!?

So what now? Track. Our workout tonight was amazing on a beautiful 65 degree evening.

I have to qualify. I'm thinking a late fall marathon (Philadephia? IDK.) would be a good bet for Boston 2020. I will try for September/Boston 2019 but there are so many weather variables in early September that may or may not work in my favor.

Flow the lactic acid must. LET'S DO THIS.

Listen to the Road

I AM SO PUMPED. Thanks to a special student and AHS News for putting this clip together. <3

The weather's not entirely cooperating, but I'm really not worried about it as a runner. I empathize more with the volunteers and spectators who will bundle up and stand out there in it. Most runners are more concerned about heat on race day than rain and wind. I'm optimistic about this weather not making me feel sick, so bring it on. It is, however, truly comical how high the winds are forecast to be, and how much rain is predicted. I survived and had a blast in 2015 after I'd had pneumonia and a stomach bug and a sleepless 1 year old so I'm certain 2018 will be FABULOUS.

My goal for this year is 4:04. Actually my goal this year is to not puke. But my second goal is a 4:04. When I ran my last long run 3 weeks ago, I was running a 9:10 pace in 50 degrees, which is about a 4:04, and I think I could have run a faster last few miles, so 4:04 is fair. I've been doing most of my long training runs at 8:59 which is usually a good predictor of race time (3:58), however with the predicted 20mph headwind and hilly terrain and soooo many runners in the first few miles, and not wanting to puke, I think a 4:04 is good. My goal is to run a 2:04 in the first half and a 2:00 in the second half.

You can hold me to that by tracking me: Text 234567 with my bib # - 29642 . It will give you updates and predicted finish times every 6 miles.

I know I've written about this before, but here's a recap of past stats:

2012: 87 degrees. 4:20.
2015: 45 degrees and raining. 4:09.
2016: 70? degrees. Maybe. I don't remember. 4:09.
2017: I don't remember, but it was hot at the start. 4:12 -- though my place was the best of all 3 years. I think it was windy?
2018: I will be ok with anything less than 4:09, but dear lord let it be 4:04, and ecstatic with anything less than that. My eye is twitching.



Meanwhile, on that last run a few weeks ago, I fell and sprained some tendon on my hand. I was running the course on the famous "last long run" - an unofficial gathering of thousands of runners. My mom drove me to the start in Hopkinton and followed along in her car, stopping for a hug every few miles. I made it to 21.4, just past Heartbreak, and waved at her as I ran by, on my way to finish 22.0. I thought about getting in the car instead of being seemingly crazy, but decided to finish what I came for, and plugged on. I was looking up ahead, considering taking a picture of the "Welcome to Brighton" sign, but instead decided to focus on where I might actually hit 22.0.

Happily I continued along the sidewalk, thinking about the delicious cheeseburger I was going to find and devour shortly after. And then I fell. Hard. It happened so fast. It had been going so well. It HURT. Like excruciating hurt.

I'd been heading down the sidewalk, towards the crosswalk you see on the left. The corner was covered in a 4 foot snowplow pile. Though I didn't process it at the time, I zigged and zagged in and out of that electrical box and recycling? mailbox? thing, cutting across the mud to the crosswalk. My shoe caught the sidewalk and I went down, into the decline of the wheelchair accessible ramp.

Another runner immediately turned around to help, and I peeled myself off the sidewalk and gasped that my mom must be pulling up right behind me THANK GOD. I ripped off my water belt and threw it, not wanting anything to get in the way of me climbing into her car. The poor runner picked up my water belt and put it in my mom's car, and my mom drove to the St. Elizabeth's emergency room just down the street. Stupid sidewalk. Stupid, stupid sidewalk.

I eventually figured out that I'd bent my index finger sideways over the tops of my other fingers. Today, 3 weeks later, it's still black and blue and I can't hold a pen properly, cut with a knife properly, squeeze a shampoo bottle properly, etc. They are just little annoying things though, and I should be so lucky. But man was it a change of pace for a couple of weeks.

I put on quite a show on 22 miles of low blood sugar and what I swear was a very painful fall :D

Thus, the title of this post. Last week as I left for my 10 mile run, Zoe called out to me, "Listen to the road!" Beautiful. She made it up- I've never heard it before. Perfect.

Listen to the road. And never make any decisions while running uphill.

BRING IT 2018.

The Science of Running

At my very core, I secretly fantasize about running like a science experiment. I run along my routes visualizing the hemoglobin on my red blood cells releasing oxygen for my muscle cells to absorb by diffusion for use in cell respiration. Like little factories, their mitochondria take the oxygen and glucose in my blood stream and burn the glucose into fuel in the form of ATP. The little factories make me hot, which my body compensates for by making me sweat, which hopefully evaporates by evaporative cooling, allowing me to maintain homeostasis. Go little cell factories, go!

I'm not joking.

At Marblehead, there were four biology teachers. Three of us were runners and cross country coaches. Two of my close BioBuilder friends are also marathoners. Three out of the 7 science teachers in our office are running Boston this year. There has to be something to that, right? Though not exclusively, RUNNING IS SCIENCE.

Let me teach you something you've been just dying to know about cell respiration. First, your cells can't directly use sugar for energy. That would be like you using a nuclear power plant in your backyard as a generator for your house. They have to convert carbohydrates to glucose to a molecule called "ATP," which is what cells can use for all of their delicious chemical reactions, including muscle contraction ;) It happens as part of three connected processes, mostly in the beloved mitochondria.

 The first step takes glucose, a 6 carbon ring,  and splits it in half. See the 6 dots at the top of the diagram? They turn into 3-dot molecules at the bottom of the diagram. Breaking molecules in chemical reactions almost always releases energy that was stored in the chemical bonds between the atoms. In this case, the energy from breaking glucose is captured in delicious ATP molecules (and something else called NADH that we'll ignore for simplicity.)

Those 3-dot molecules continue to break down in the second step, called the Krebs cycle. Each step of the Krebs cycle breaks off a one-carbon dot. See the "CO2" in the diagram below? Those are one-carbon molecules that came from the original 6-carbon glucose.

WAIT WAIT. THIS IS WHY YOU EXHALE CARBON DIOXIDE. IT COMES FROM THAT DIAGRAM RIGHT THERE. ALL OF IT!!! Once you see it, you can't unsee it...

Just pretend a Kit-Kat bar is made of 6 pieces. (I know. Kit Kats are made of two connected bars. This is a terrible analogy. Stay with me.) Every time you break off a piece of the Kit-Kat, energy is released. As the Kit-Kat goes through the Krebs cycle above, you can sing "Gimme a break, gimme a break. Break me off a piece of that (6-carbon thing!)" as you release CO2, made of (1-carbon thing). Exhale.

All of this is wonderful, as long you have a steady supply of glucose in your blood stream. This comes from food you eat, though mostly from stored glucose in your muscles. Extra glucose gets stored in your liver and muscles in a long molecule called "glycogen." Your body has the ability to store about 1600 calories of glycogen, though you can increase this through training/teaching your muscles to burn glycogen more efficiently, and frequently using up all your glycogen so the cells learn to increase their glycogen storage capacity.

Every single one of those pink rings is a 6-carbon glucose that can be broken off as needed. Every time you eat food with carbohydrates, extra carbs (glucose) in the blood gets linked together as a long chain, in the form of glycogen in the liver and muscles. Then as needed, the glycogen can be broken down for glucose energy.

This is why there's all the hype about carbo loading and pasta dinners before athletic events! Build up your glycogen storage! EXCEPT.

1. It takes 24-48 hours for your body to truly convert glucose to glycogen. Having pasta the night before a marathon isn't helping you carbo load. That's probably only 12-18 hours-- no glycogen stored. It's better to carbo load for *days* before a marathon.

2. Glycogen really only gets used after at least an hour of intense/moderate exercise. Having a team pasta dinner the night before a soccer game again, isn't necessarily bad, but isn't doing anything special to fuel their running.

3. I think pasta actually sits heavy in my belly. I much prefer to eat fish (sushi and/or salmon) the night before a marathon or long run. Any time I haven't, I've regretted it to varying degrees. Fish always serves me well.

So what do you do when you run out of glycogen? You have several options.

1. Hit the "wall." It's effectively like running out of gas in a car. You've literally used all your sugar and now your mitochondria sucks at making ATP. I've run marathons where my mile 18 is DRASTICALLY slower than mile 17 -- about 1600 calories into the race. It's textbook, and always makes me giggle despite being in agony.

2. Try to prevent hitting the wall with fuel of some sort, like Gu (sugar), Gatorade (sugar + a pathetic helping of electrolytes) or my personal favorite, Cliff shot Bloks. It's important to get your body used to digesting such things during a run, because otherwise your body's energy is generally shunted away from your digestive system.
*This is why people can have GI distress while running, because your body thinks you are being poisoned because WHY OH WHY CAN'T I DIGEST ANYTHING RIGHT NOW? ABORT MISSION! GET IT OUT!

3. Switch to "fat burning" mode, which is a more difficult process for your cells to produce ATP. Again you can facilitate this by training properly, such as "fasted runs" in the morning before eating anything, and frequently running more than 8 miles at a time.

4. Teach your body to transport lactic acid efficiently, so that it can be used as part of a pathway to generate >>>ATP, instead of having to rely on it alone for a small amount of ATP. Also lactic acid buildup can cause sickness and horrific nausea, for which the only cure is time. Teach your body to transport lactic acid by doing "threshold" runs/speedwork, at about a 5K pace. Though these workouts are not fun, they offer a great return on the time invested. Some lactic acid is always produced in general, and in particular while running. Again the trick is to use it effectively instead of just letting it build up. Have you been running long and suddenly your breathing becomes much heavier, even though you're not running faster, and maybe even running slower? Ya. You've stopped transporting lactic acid and are starving for both oxygen and ATP. Prepare for your demise.

This brings me to my final point- the science of why I puke after running many marathons.

I couldn't figure it out. Was I...
a. dehydrated?
b. in GI distress because I'd consumed too much/the wrong kind of fuel?
c. overheated?
d. low on electrolytes?

Then I was talking with a friend this fall about how I'd been so sick after the Allentown marathon, which was so strange to me because I didn't eat or drink anything for HOURS after, until suddenly I sat up and was good as new. My body had just needed time to recover from the shock, it seemed. The science didn't make sense. I hadn't rehydrated, replenished electrolytes, and it was cold out. I wasn't hot. (Truthfully these probably all played at least a small role in my malaise but there had to be something I was missing.)

"It's lactic acid sickness," she said. "Your body needed time to get rid of it."

DUH!!!!!!!!!! I'd never thought of that!! And of course I'd been having more trouble with it as I hadn't been running enough mileage to really teach my muscles to transport it well enough. Duh duh duhhhhh.

Problem solved? Lactic acid became my new beast. That's right you little cell factories. You transport that lactic acid to build that ATP. Yum.

34 days to Boston. So excited. (which means today is 46 days before the day we have to go to school on a Saturday- we're on our 9th snow day and our last day of school is Friday, June 29. A story for another time...)

Happy running :)

ALL THE ENDORPHINS

Did you know that your body produces its own class of opioid-like hormones, that cause opioid-like responses in the body, including decreased perception of pain and increased euphoria? They're called endorphins, and are described as "feel good" hormones, often associated with being released during/after exercise.

(Opioids drugs include morphine, heroin, vicodin, percocets, oxycontin, and Tylenol with codeine, and are all some derivative of the sticky white stuff from poppy plants. In fact, "endorphin" comes from the terms "endogenous morphine." I know, right?)

Observe.

Notice the parts of the molecules that have the same chemical composition and structure, allowing them to bind to your brain cells the same way, which therefore causes them to produce the same effects. This means several things;

a. You can train your body to run longer, because the longer you run, the more... anaesthetic... you naturally produce.
b. Longer running can cause more happiness.
c. You can start to see why running is addictive...

Granted on some days, running is hard. You may start to get a headache, your stomach bothers you, you're tired, and just can't find a groove. BUT some days the stars are aligned and somewhere around mile 3, something magical happens. Your joints loosen, your stride opens up, your legs are strong and the cars move out of your way and your run is so amazing that you become a FORCE for the rest of the day and your coworkers may start to sing "I like to move it move it" and suggest you download an app that tells you to jump over a pencil 10 times:

This happened to me on Friday. I was able to run before school and was just about jumping out of my skin for the rest of the day, so much so that I went for a second run after school. (Marathon training and running twice a day are indeed a post for another day.)

What do you do that makes you feel awesome??

ps This reminds me of a high school friend who used to say, "Drug free, high on life! Spread the word!"

pps I secretly want to open a cafe along a rail trail called "Endorphins" and we will serve beer and ice cream. And maybe donuts. <3

I love running. 18 miles yesterday which went very well and I was super happy with my time. It was an out-and-back run that involved a fair number of hills from miles 6-12. Plus running over the 93 overpass is always fun...

However I was so tired after, that when Zoe fell asleep on our way to a party, I pulled into a parking lot and also took a nap. #momWin :D

HAPPY RUNNING HIGHS!

New year, new priorities

In elementary school, I remember a "song" we sang in music class about New Years Resolutions. I'm pretty sure it was 3 notes and we hit sticks while we went around the room making up our ten year old New Years Resolutions. For some reason, this has played over in my head in the last few weeks as I think about goal setting for Boston 2018.

Honestly, I almost didn't think I could do it this year. By the time I got word that I was lucky enough to have been awarded a bib from MVS in December, to say I was exhausted would be an understatement. Waking up at 5, to get Zoe to school by 6:30, to get me to school from 7:15-4, to get home to get Zoe and dinner on the table by 6, to get her in bed actually asleep by 8:30 all week- not only made for a tiring week, but also meant I didn't do anything well. I couldn't spend the time with her that I wanted to, I couldn't find a rhythm in my clunky lesson planning, I didn't want to have to make dinner (what's wrong with bagels every night?), and I certainly didn't have time to run. And I truly mean that- sometimes I check myself on the "I didn't have time" and try to replace it with "it wasn't a priority" to see if it's a better fit for what I'm trying to say. Running was totally a priority, but my job at school was never done, and my kid was way more important.

December ticked on and I was frustrated. In 3 weeks, I'd run twice, and was ready to kill somebody. And I was irritated that I couldn't figure out how I could possibly fit Boston into my life. I was so confused. Did I not want to run? Was that normal? Or was I finally saying "enough is enough" and letting it go? Had I been abducted by aliens? GAHHHHHHH!!!!!!:JJGKJALDKJGALSJKDGLAKSDJGJLKDSG

"Well, maybe if you run more, you won't be so angry...?", suggested a friend. That made me giggle. Truth.

The idea of Boston 2018 started last June, when Jemblidge and I signed up for the Allentown Marathon in September, in hopes of running Boston together. Like a rockstar, she qualified, and fingers crossed, I applied for a bib through MVS. I reflected on this as I thought about what running this spring meant to me. Who knows if I would ever get a chance to run Boston with her again?

Well, not with her, let's be honest. Kid's super speedy!!!! But- we would be on the training road of ups and downs, the expo getting our bibs, and on the MVS bus to Boston, and taking 2309859835 pictures at Athletes Village!!!!!! And consuming all the beer and sushi after.

Also Shalane won the NYC marathon and contributed to a great piece about what it means for women to support each other in running. In it she says, "When we accomplish great things on our own, they don't feel nearly as special." Having my Jemblidge train for Allentown at the same time as me helped keep me honest in a summer when my priorities were focused on moving and not 20 mile runs. We had a good race and I worked hard this fall to continue to get in shape via MVS track, and was happy with my Newburyport half marathon time of 1:47 when it was 60 degrees and super humid.

Shortly before the holidays, I decided that running Boston was, duh, absolutely a priority and I'd have to shuffle my life like index cards and do some weeding of other stuff so that I could fit in the training. I took our vacation week to reflect and figure out how I could streamline some things at school and home. Part of this included buying a treadmill, not just because of the bizarre weather we've had lately, but because it will give me the option to fit in a few miles at 5am if that's what I need to do, or at 7pm if that's what I need to do, etc. I feel like I just purchased the gift of time. (I will have to write another entry on the extensive research I did and how I decided to purchase the Spirit XT385 from a local shop in Salem, NH.) My 8th marathon and 5th Boston are apparently in the forecast.

Coincidentally, this weekend called for 14 miles, and Saturday morning was a balmy 60 degrees and partly sunny and it was FABULOUS. Then at mile 13, the skies darkened, the temperature dropped 15 degrees, and a cold rain washed all.the.sweat into my eyes, which was really quite interesting as I booked it down the home stretch of route 97. #winning

One analogy for all of this is how I feel about JT's new song, "Filthy." We have a love hate relationship. It's growing on me. Plus, ALL THE DANCING.

Haters gon say it's fake. SO REAL.