My relationship status with running: It's complicated.

I have a love/hate relationship with running.

Our current status? In blissful love.

The past ten years? Off and on.

High school and before? Deep, deep hatred.

I should clarify that when I talk about running, I usually mean middle-distance and distance running, not sprinting. Sprinting and I have always been on pretty good terms. Sprinting was always a part of the sports I played: soccer, basketball, tennis... you sprint to chase after a ball. I understood it. There was a goal, something to go for. But then I decided to follow in my (record holding) sister's footsteps and try track my freshman year of high school.

That was a mistake. I didn't care for the coach and I was way too immature to appreciate that running itself is a sport. I was told, because of my body shape at the time, that I should be a middle distance and distance runner; I did not agree and therefore held a grudge the entire season and dreaded going to practice. I barely got through practice runs and had incredible anxiety before and during meets. The only event that I enjoyed and that quenched my desire to sprint - the triple-jump - was the one that my sister (a senior when I was a freshman) also competed in. I did okay with it. She'd always place first and I'd sometimes place third; that was pretty cool.

But the middle distance and distance events? I was always one of the last ones to finish. It sucked and I didn't go back.

(In hindsight it was a good thing, the next year I picked up tennis, captained the team my junior and senior year and went on to play in college.)

Fast forward to post-college: my main forms of exercise became rec soccer and training for sprint triathlons. I began to run and I began to like it. I'd still rather bike, or swim, or play a team sport. But I'd run in some 5ks and 5 milers, and one half-marathon, because I had friends or family running in them too. I never came close to finishing in the top quarter of the race. I was lucky if I finished in the top half of my age group, but I was growing okay with it.

In fact, my rocky relationship with running also probably has something to do with the fact that I have some really amazing runners in my life: my husband (a sub 3 hour marathoner), one of my best girlfriends (sub 3:15 marathoner) and my sister (a stud Div. 1 track athlete) - I'd compare myself to them, and figure everyone else was too, so I decided since I wasn't near any of their levels, the sport just wasn't for me.

Fortunately, with age comes wisdom, or, more accurately: as I grow older, I care less and less about what other people think.

When I became pregnant with the little guy I had a small base of running under me. I was running to keep in shape for roller derby, but my fast twitch muscles were definitely more formed than my slow ones. I ran (off and on) for probably the first 14 weeks of my pregnancy. Then it just got too uncomfortable (I still worked out, almost daily, just in other ways). I ran again for the first time probably 8 weeks postpartum: little by little, one mile at a go.

Maybe it was because I had a break from running, or because I had to start from zero postpartum, but during the last year I really began to love it. It was a struggle, getting back to the point where I could run three miles consistently again, and stroller running was pretty difficult to get used to, but it's working for me. I've ran a few 5ks (With the little guy in the stroller and without. With friends and racing for myself). And I finished the Ragnar Adirondacks (a 200 mile relay race) with a group of 11 other amazing mamas.

I mentioned it briefly in my last running post, but I'm enjoying running so much, and the camrederie it creates, and the good it can do (both mentally and physically) that I'm helping to organize a 5k run around here, and it's for a great cause.

If you made it this far, thank you for letting me work through my running issues! I'll be sure to keep the blog updated with our tumultuous relationship.

On that note, here's my favorite running workout that's easy to do on a treadmill (which is where most of my running is taking place due to the frigid cold right now). I find the "break" after each mile really makes the running part go by quickly:

A local 5k run for Sandy Hook

On Saturday morning I took part in a 5k that I'll likely never forget. It wasn't timed, there was no swag bag and the course wasn't particularly scenic. It was in my town, put together by mothers, in honor of some very special people.

A 5k in Newtown, Connecticut was planned for January 19th, but for a variety of reasons, an "official" run couldn't be held so the organizers encouraged other communities to have 5ks of their own in honor of those killed at Sandy Hook Elementary. Some amazing women in my community - the Niskayuna Moms on the Run, decided to put together their own 5k and 1 mile walk, and at the urging of those organizing the Newtown event, donate proceeds locally as well. A $25 donation was suggested; the money went to build a memorial in Newtown, to the local fire department, and to a program at a middle school in Niskayuna that a local girl, who just passed away, was a part of.

I was touched, and my eyes teared as people spoke before the race - about Sandy Hook, about 14-year-old Grace who recently passed (she loved going to a local party store and an employee recalled how she'd visit weekly and loved filling up her balloons - they handed out pink and purple balloons after the run) and they spoke about "helpers," and quoted this from Mr. Rogers:

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." To this day, especially in times of "disaster," I remember my mother's words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world."

Fred Rogers' words were "shared" and "retweeted" on social media a lot around the time of the Sandy Hook tragedy, but no matter how many times I read and hear it, I get emotional because it emphasizes the good in people, the good in most people. The good in the organizers and in those that ran and walked and donated on Saturday.

When I got home I gave my purple balloon to the little guy. I was happy to watch him drag it around all day; grateful we live in the community we do.


I was recently asked by a friend to be the co-director of a 5k that will take place in our area in September. I was slightly hesitant at first to do it; afraid of being overwhelmed by the work it takes to put something like that together, but after Saturday, and after taking part in other races that benefit great causes, I couldn't feel better about my decision.

Workout Wednesday: The Gift that Keeps Me Moving

My sister got me a pretty awesome present for Christmas. In fact, she loves the little gadget so much that she also got one for herself, her husband, my husband, our parents and her in-laws. It's a FitBit, and in simple terms, it's a suped-up pedometer. In more elaborate terms, it's an activity tracker that monitors your steps taken, floors climbed, and hours slept. It's simple to use, has a free app for your phone and puts all your info in easy-to-understand graphs and stats.

Which is good for me because I haaaaate complicated graphs. 

You can also "friend" your friends on your FitBit profile and compete with them. Now I see why my sister got me one. (I've never known anyone more competitive than her.)

I wear my FitBit when I remember - which is most days. There have been days where I know I won't be moving much (say, I'm driving all day) and I choose not to wear it because the numbers will just depress me, but on normal days when I do wear it, it's a motivator. My goal is 10,000 steps a day; I never get that without exercising and in the winter months, it's hard to get outside, so it's been kind of fun to walk around the house and home gym like a crazy woman and watch my numbers go up. (Okay, maybe some of my sister's competitiveness has rubbed off on me...)

And here's a testament to its durability: My husband wore his when he was snowblowing our driveway. Somehow it came off of his pants (I'm not sure how this happened because mine hasn't ever come loose - he must have been snowblowing pretty aggressively) and it was missing, in the snow, for a good five days. We looked and looked and finally, Allen took a rake to the snow and found it. With a quick charge it was back and running again.  

Here's a great Scientific American blog post on the 'bit.