Dusting off the treadmill

The diagnosis is in -- I still have the running bug. Even with the heat and summer vacation forcing me to run on our at-home treadmill.

After spending the past seven months running outside and on the higher-quality treadmills at the gym in preparing for my first half-marathon last March, I'm relegated back to my treadmill that sits in our bedroom. I know -- not very romantic, but for some reason, our master bedroom is humongous and there's plenty of room for it.

So about a week ago I dusted it off, made sure it was stable, and grew frustrated when it wouldn't start because the annoying safety key wasn't engaged properly. All the while, I'm thinking there has to be a better alternative -- maybe I should just force myself to run at night. It felt like being 19 and reuniting with a boyfriend you hadn't seen all summer -- you're just not sure if that feeling is still there.

But after a good five minutes of fiddling with this silly red piece of plastic that controls this $600 piece of equipment, it finally clicked just right and away I went. Even with its flaws, I still love running. But I quickly became reacquainted with the challenges of running on a treadmill at home.

First, in a room facing the East and being a morning runner, it's HOT. I turn the ceiling fan on high and kick the A/C down about 4 degrees lower than normal while I run, but it's still not like the air-conditioned gym.

Second, I actually attempted it one morning with all four kids home. Just a note to anyone who tries this -- it isn't very relaxing and your mind can't wander freely. You know when you have your IPod cranked up and Elton John is screaming "Bennie and the Jets" in your ear and you can still hear kids crying/shouting/fighting in the background, you're going to have to hop off to get your kids to chill out.

And then there's Zach and Allie, wandering into the room and posing inquisitive questions. "Mommy, can I run with you?" "Mommy, can I put on my swim soup (yea -- Allie says soup instead of suit ... so cute)?" "Mommy, why is there lemonade on the floor in the kitchen?" Ugh! Another day I ran at about 6:00, before the kids (well most of them) woke up. No interruptions, but I'm not an early-morning runner. No food, no coffee and three miles was grueling.

So, yes, it can be challenging, but it's doable ... and definitely a requirement for me to keep my sanity around here.

Still running ...

It was another busy weekend here at the Dawson house.

For starters, after 6 months of being 40, I've finally discovered a benefit: when I run in races, I'm in the 40-44 or 40-49 category. A year ago at 39 I would have been running against women in their early 30s. Now I'm one of the young ones in my division :)

So on Saturday I had a great time running in Emma's Run, a local 5K race held in memory of Emma Simpkins that benefits children's charities. They were also holding a 10K event and for the last couple weeks I've been wrestling with whether to do the 5K (3.1 miles) or go for the longer 10K (6.2 miles). I've been running 3-6 miles about 3 times a week and started a new exercise class at the gym. Yet I still didn't feel I was in the zone to do the longer race ... even though my half marathon was only a short month ago.

The night before I let myself off the hook and decided the shorter distance would be better. And Saturday morning as I was running up, up, up Gavilan Peak Drive with the wind whipping me in the face and trying to rip off my baseball cap, I was so happy I made that decision. I kept my pace up between 8:30 and 9:30 the whole time. Halfway through, the course looped around and so we got to go downhill in the final stretch. But, still, I was feeling hot and slightly nauseous at moments and I wanted to stop, almost did. But something kept me going.

When I got home and looked up my results online, I saw I did it in 28:16. My last 5K in November was 29:29. And here's the shocking part. First, I have to say this was a smaller community race, so it was a relatively small group of about 220 runners. And I think all the good, fast runners either decided to stay home, run easy, or walk. But somehow in the 40-49 year-old women, I came in SECOND and was the 11th woman overall.

So that was exciting to see that flash up on my computer, but I know it was an anomaly. I know so many runners who run a lot faster than me. For instance, if my friend Tracey would have run instead of walking it with her family, she would have bumped me down to third place. So I enjoyed that little fluke and hope it carries me to the next race ... even if that may not be until the fall now that the warm weather is rearing its ugly head.

In memory of Emma Simpkins.
"I love you more than bunnies."

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Meanwhile, participating in the run meant I had to miss Nicky's soccer game. Over the past week he hasn't been feeling the soccer love much. His coach has been putting him at goalie a lot and the past couple of games, quite a few balls have slipped by him. As a parent, it's the most nerve-wracking position to watch your child play. And big brother (and soccer star) Blake is always behind him shouting out commands disguised as "encouragement." Nicky finally said he doesn't want him back there any more.

So as we talked about going to soccer practice Wednesday night, Nicky had a big meltdown, saying his soccer days are over and he's not playing anymore. After a cooling-off period and some encouraging words from Brett and I ... and Blake, Brett managed to get him to his game on Saturday. As goalie, Nicky didn't let anyone score on him, and out in the field, he had his first goal of the season. And, of course, the only time I haven't been there and I missed it.

Blake had a great game, too. They demolished the other team 12-2 or something like that. Blake had 3 goals.

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If any of you are planning an Arizona visit before it gets too hot, you better get here next week :) We had a hot weekend, today is supposed to be 96 and then we're supposed to "cool" to the 80s for a bit before it heats up again.

6 Days Until the Half Marathon

“Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.”

The countdown is on -- six days until our first half marathon this Sunday. As a new runner and a half marathon rookie, it's been a roller coaster ride of excitement, confidence, fear, self-doubt, occasional physical pain, discipline and anxiety.

For the past several months I've been running several short runs during the week and a long run on the weekend. This long runs gradually build in distance. Last weekend I had that horrible 10-mile run -- a bit of stomach queasiness, lack of concentration and running a route I didn't like. I really thought there was no way I could do a full 13.1 miles.

But, as it seems to go with running, with a day off and my short runs easily conquered during the week, I was ready to take on another 10-mile run yesterday. Just like in life, in running there are good days and bad. It's the good days that keep me coming back for more.

The only thing that stood to slow me down was the wind. It wasn't a cold wind (still comfortable in shorts and a tank at 9:30 a.m. -- sorry to rub that in to my cold-weather family and friends), but pleasant running weather. I felt weighed down with stuff. I wore a water belt, I had on Brett's new fancy Garmin watch (which by the way is very cool -- it tells me my pace and how far I've ran), and my Ipod around my neck (I still just have the little Shuffle version).

The wind was getting squirrely -- all I could think about was holding down my baseball cap. About a mile and half into it, as I'm running west on Anthem Way, I approach a crossing street. A car is coming but motions for me to go. I'm not quite there so I have to quicken my pace to quickly cross the street.

Then my hat goes flying. Off my head, down Freedom Way -- or maybe it was Independence Way, I can't remember. I try to run to catch up to it. As soon as I almost reach it, the wind carries it ahead a few more feet. It happens again. I felt like the magician in Frosty the Snowman trying to get that darned hat. By now three cars are in line at the stop sign and my hat is flying right in their path.

Finally ... the wind is on my side and I stomp on it and proceed back to my route. My poor white hat is heavily streaked in black and grey. I carry it for the rest of my run.

So, other than feeling like a fool chasing my hat, I had a great run. 10.2 miles. I ran like it was race day. Very conservative, slow pace. By the end I felt like I still had enough to keep going.

Now, I get to do what my training program calls "tapering." Minimizing this week's runs to get my body and mind ready for Sunday. Four miles on Tuesday, three on Wednesday and two on Thursday.

Then 13.1 on Sunday. Still not sure whether I'm excited or terrified.

On the Run

Feb. 22, 2008

So I'm about to utter a sentence -- the essence of which I never thought would enter my conscience, let alone pass my lips or form words on my keyboard, but here it is:

In 16 days I plan on running my first half marathon. 13.1 miles. More than 2 hours of running straight. My goal is to finish -- or at least that's what I'm telling everybody.

Until about six months ago, I had never been a runner. In fact, I hated, despised, loathed running altogether. I enjoyed exercising, but 30 minutes on the elliptical machine at the gym a few times a week was good for me. I had come to accept that the 10-15 pounds of baby weight accumulated over the past decade would in all likelihood stay put. Every once in a while I would try a short little jaunt, but after just a few minutes would become so winded and feeling so out of shape that I had not even a shred of desire to ever try it again.

I've had many friends who are/were runners. My best friend in high school runs and loves doing 5Ks. Another friend I grew up with was a great, fast runner. A few years back a friend in Sacramento ran a full marathon after battling cancer. A cousin of Brett's ran two marathons; we watched her cross the finish line of the California International Marathon in front of the state capitol. Admittedly, it was inspiring to watch her and all the runners achieve their goals.

But even then -- while I was so impressed with their feats -- I still didn't "get" running.

Somehow that changed last April when we moved to Phoenix. It started innocently enough with the purchase of a treadmill. My husband didn't think I'd really use it. By June and July it was just too miserably hot to exercise outside or even pack up the kids in the car and go to the gym. So the treadmill became my escape, my "me" time. The boys were out of school, the twins were home every day -- not in preschool yet -- and I had only met a few people. So I'd throw on my Ipod and hop on the treadmill.

For months I was stuck at two miles (remember, I said I wasn't a runner!). I'd be huffing and puffing and feeling like 20 minutes would never end. Finally I bumped it to 2.5 miles and not long after that I was doing 3 miles.

At about this time the weather started cooling off (when it actually got below 90) and I started running outside. That's when it happened. Just as I had read from runners forums and articles, I was no longer running as a means to an end (like to lose weight, get some exercise, etc.). I was just running to run. Putting on my iPod and running ... clearing my head ... leaving the stress on the road. Feeling energized.

By September I started thinking about the people I know who have run marathons and half marathons. Maybe I could do it. Then I'd run on one of those warm mornings with the Arizona sun blasting down my back. Legs feeling heavy and clumsy. Maybe not.

After some intensive Googling, I found various training plans. Within days the Hal Higdon 12-week novice half marathon plan was stuck to my refrigerator. With my yellow highlighter always nearby, I proudly marked off each training session. Brett even started training, too, and was enthusiastic about running the half marathon with me. Like me, he's never been a runner, and after a rough first couple weeks, he is embracing it, too -- almost as much as I am.

We decided we'd try the P.F. Chang's Rock n Roll Marathon in early January. To try to keep this short, I started having major knee pain. Tried to ignore it, but it got to the point I was just dreading running. So I took 3, almost 4 weeks off. Enjoyed the holidays, got sick, took care of sick kids. Then on the day of the Rock n Roll marathon, I ran 5 miles and decided during that run that I would try the next one to come along -- the Valley of the Sun Marathon. March 9th in Mesa.

So here we are. A few "shorter" runs during the week. These are up to 5 miles now. And then the long run on the weekend. We did 9 miles the past two weekends. The first time was awful, the second was much better. This Monday we're going to try 11.

Ugh ...