some days are diamonds...

Some days are rocks. Two weeks ago, my grandma died. Then that Saturday, four days later, I had my first tri of the season, the Colorado Triathlon (I raced the Olympic distance). I did not want to race. I did not want to figure out how to start living in a world my grandma no longer occupied, but I knew if I wanted to get to Oregon, I needed to do this race, even if it was maybe going to rain on race day. And Mr. Scandinavian Mullet was volunteering, so we couldn't have him bail on that. So we got up early, we had extra coffee, and did the best we could to get out of the house to arrive in Boulder as close to site opening as possible. 

June 3, 2023 - Colorado Triathlon in Boulder, CO
Women 45-49, Olympic distance

So, my goal for the race was to not finish last in my age group. Well... that pic, that's me in the yellow. i finished 2nd in my age group, with my first podium finish for triathlon, 20 years in to doing them! So obviously, mission accomplished. Incidentally, I almost missed participating in this Kodak moment. I knew I had caught one woman in my age group on the run and finished ahead of her. Individual race times weren't posted beyond the first 100 finishers (of both the sprint and Olympic) as I was walking out of the venue, heading back to the car. But I happened to notice they had video monitors which were scrolling through the lead finishers, so I paused to check for club friends who may have won their age group. When my age group came up, with my name next to #2, I yelled out "OH MY GOD!" and nearly blew out the eardrums of the woman next to me. I apologized and said "That's MY NAME! Next to number 2! OH MY GOD!" She started laughing at me and said "Well, you better get over there to the podium area!" So I did, but not before I borrowed her phone to text Mr. Scandinavian Mullet that I had PLACED and to come meet me at the podium. 

At the awards area, I saw some tri club friends and acquaintances. I felt very weird being there, walking my old road bike and my Trader Joe's bags full of race items, with my wetsuit hanging over my arm. Someone said hi and asked if I got an award, and it was very, very hard for me to say "I think I did... my name was next to the number two, for my age group in the Olympic." They were all so excited and congratulatory! I told them I could NOT believe this, and that I honestly thought it was a mistake. They laughed, but I was dead serious, I wasn't sure I should be there. I mean, ME???? One guy said, "I saw your husband earlier, where is he now?" I burst out laughing. "I sent him to the car! I had NO IDEA I'd place! And I don't have a phone or anything to text him, I borrowed someone else's phone a minute ago, but he's volunteering, and I have no idea where he is or if he saw my text. Is this for real?" He laughed, then he offered to be my stand-in husband and take my podium photos. [Thank you very much, David Rhodes, for capturing this moment. You can be my stand-in husband anytime!]

It turns out there were six women in my age group - coming in second out of six is top 30% and I will take it! I had a very fun race, despite being very sad about my Grandma, it was wonderful to see so many friends, have perfect cloudy and cool race weather, and have FUN swimming, biking and running like a madwoman around Boulder. (Me, having fun RUNNING, I cannot believe THAT one, either!) The whole morning was an incredibly bright spot during this very dark and somber period of my life, and capping it off with a spot on the podium was just the best kind of icing. I will never forget the shock, joy and glee I felt while standing on that black plywood box with the 2 on it, holding a glass that had "Colorado Triathlon Champion" etched onto it. All three of us up there, we were so happy. I will hold on to that memory forever. Definitely a diamond day. 

And now, we're back to the rocks. My grandma's funeral was last week, which was hard, but good. I drove the dogs out to Philadelphia, Mr. Scandinavian Mullet flew out for it, then we all drove back home together. I was so far out of a routine that week, but I wasn't stressed about it. I mean, a 3800-mile road trip, burying a beloved relative, I can certainly give myself grace for just doing the best I can to get through all that. But now that I've been home for almost a week, I haven't fully settled back into a healthy routine, and I'm getting mad at myself for that. I want to find a way to extend the grace I give myself, here. I can't expect to just snap back into life as usual. 

Specifically, I'm having a hard time taking care of ME and making healthy food and alcohol choices while I am grieving. I have been back on track with my workouts, and each day I aim for good nutrition, but as the day goes on, I get sad, and the food part is hard for me to handle well. [Honestly it is the food, I've had only two drinks since I returned home.] I know I want to feel as strong in Oregon next month as I did in Boulder two weeks ago, and how I fuel this body is a big part of that. I know that every day, I'm getting a little bit better, but... I think it's important to acknowledge that it is difficult for me not to use food as a coping mechanism. Today is the first day I really planned out all my meals, so there's a little more intention, a little more progress - evidence that I'm still mining for diamonds. 

I really am doing the best I can to get a little better each day. Whatever your goals are, I hope you're doing the same. 

 --

The woman who won my age group, Betsy Mercer, beat me by 20 minutes. I don't know her, but my coach does, and she said she's an incredible cyclist and athlete in general. Of course I wanted to know more about her, so I Googled her, and it turns out she has quite the story. Betsy blew past me on the bike, early on - obviously I didn't know it was her, but I certainly remember being passed by the blazing fast woman wearing a full-length compression sleeve on just her left leg. Very inspiring lady, and very happy to stand on a podium with her!

it's not about the goggles

Last week our tri club had an open water swim clinic at the gravel ponds at Chatfield reservoir, in Chatfield State Park. I have a race coming up and I'm scared of cold water, so I figured I'd better go and get in and prove to myself that I wasn't gonna die. That day, the universe had been conspiring against me as soon as I opened my eyes. Since no one wants to read a litany of bad news [well, maybe you do, if it isn't happening to YOU personally, BUT...] I'll just spare you the list of terrible, awful things that led to me having a terrible, awful day. And then, on the way to the res, traffic was SO BAD, I was over 30 minutes late. (Turns out there was a wreck on the highway, that driver was having a way WORSE day than me, I hope they are OK). 

Anyhow I was sure I'd miss the swim, did I really want to pay to get into the park just to run? FINE I was down there, I could see people I knew, do the run, and likely feel slightly better after a workout. So I drove up to the gate and paid the $10 and went in. 

Good news to my eyes as I pulled down to the swim area parking lot, I could see the club members standing on the shore, not in the water. Alright, Lizzie, you're goin' swimmin'. I ran up in time to catch some stellar swim tips from Mr. Fish, standing there in his Speedos while nearly everyone else was in their wetsuits. He had great insights about how to round buoys, breathing and sighting in open water and handing different swim situations during a race. 

And then we all got in the water. Oh boy. It was COLD. Me and another Floridian were joking about how we were NOT in Florida swim conditions! It definitely helped to be in the water and get acclimated to the chill factor before starting to swim. When we DID start swimming, my heart rate shot up from the cold. This was actually no joke - I was fine, but when I stopped, I certainly noticed my racing heart, and one member had some anxiety and had to be pulled from the water (they were OK). But this is why we do these things, we test and we train and we see what it's like and have our panic attacks now, so we don't panic come race day. Because the race should be fun. 

We even had a wheelchair athlete get in the water with us! Talk about inspiration. This guy had more of an athlete's build than many people standing on the shore. He looked like an IronMan champion - that night, he was the Chatfield Gravel Pond Swim Champion, for sure. 

After the swim, we did a short out-and-back run, heading off into the sunset. On the way back, I was trying to catch this woman just as a marker for myself that I could set my sights on a person and reach them. I ended up getting her on the last half-mile. She and I talked for a while afterward, turns out she is in the middle of passing a kidney stone, so the fact that she was even there doing a workout, well, she's the female athlete champion of the night. I was telling her about my grandma, she knew a lot about Hospice and it was really nice to just talk to someone out loud, and not in my own head, about the shitty and wonderful state of having a loved one going through Hospice and the end of their life. And I got to meet a woman I train with virtually, in real life and she is DELIGHTFUL and I can't wait to see her more. I really felt a million times better than I did when I got to the park. Seems one solution for turning around a bad day is to go for a swim in cold water with strangers, you'll all be friends in the end.

Other takeaways: I need more open water practice. My goggles are terrible, but hey, they're twenty years old, at least and I should probably get a new pair. Of course when I spoke that aloud to my husband, the universe decided to make me grateful for those goggles, by forcing me to do a pool swim WITHOUT THEM, later that week. I accidentally left the goggles in the arm of my wetsuit, so when I got to the pool Thursday, SURPRISE! No goggles. I did the swim workout anyhow. I do NOT recommend ever doing that again, if the pool is chemically treated. My eyes burned for a good 24 hours and I used a LOT of eye drops. Again, I didn't die, but... swimming in a chlorinated pool with no goggles is really no way to live.

I did buy myself a new pair of polarized goggles Friday. And I decided to get more open water practice by going BACK to the res on Sunday. The new goggles? I LOVE THEM. If you swim outside, get yourself a pair of polarized goggles! I feel like they give me a HUGE sighting advantage. I also ran into my new kidney stone friend, and met another woman going to Oregon 70.3, too on that Sunday swim. The radio was full of great songs about living life to the fullest, taking advantage of the good days, etc. OK, Universe, I hear you. 

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Swim links, also posted at the sidebar at left for future reference:

Chatfield Reservoir information - scroll to the bottom for swimming conditions and water temp info. 

What kind of goggles should I get? This page at yourswimlog.com is a great starting point to answer that question. 

Swim n Things - if you're in the Denver, Colorado, area, they have sample goggles you can try on to see which ones fit you best. And this is a great store for anything swim-related, both competitive and fun. 

I bought a pair of Tyr Special Ops 2.0 Polarized goggles. (Mine are a lot more colorful!)

you will get wet

Two Thursdays ago, I had a nice little hill repeats run on my training calendar. I actually love these types of workouts with short bursts of a lot of intensity and then plenty of recovery between. With hill repeats, I always feel strong - or like I am getting stronger - as I do them, and the park where I go to do them is peaceful during the day, with beautiful views of the mountains. The Thursday forecast showed rain moving in mid-morning, so my plan was to get up early and do the workout before I had to take my car in to the dealership for new tires. I wouldn't mind waiting for the service to be completed while I was sweaty.

Well. I took an allergy med the night before, which did exactly as it warned on the packaging and caused me complete and utter drowsiness. I was awake in time to run, but as I was peeling my eyelids open I could hear many, many raindrops pelting my bedroom window. The storm arrived early. I really don't mind getting wet while running, but I do very much mind sitting around while wet. So, between a very groggy me and a VERY soppy outdoors, running after I took the car in seemed the better option. Then I could follow the run directly with a warm shower. I got dressed in my running clothes, drove through the rain and past several accidents on the way to the dealership, and took advantage of their free latte machine while I waited for my car to get its new shoes. I had a book with me and read that to pass the time - what a gift to be able to read indoors on a rainy day! 

Just before the car was ready, it was still raining steadily and my coach texted to offer up a treadmill option if I preferred - I said no thanks, I'd rather be outside, the rain wouldn't bother me as long as it wasn't freezing or lightning. She agreed, she loves running in the rain. As I was checking out of the service appointment, the agent asked me about my plans for the rest of the day. I told her I was heading straight from here for a run in the rain. She said she used to do that a lot. She ran the Berlin marathon, years ago, while she was stationed there in the Air Force. I certainly didn't expect her to understand the fun in my next task - I had no idea she was a runner, and it was really nice to find out. This woman takes really great care of my car and I am always sorry I don't know more about her, so I really appreciated the share. Yea for human connection. 

The drive from the dealer up to the park was steady rain the whole way. I was very thankful for my new tires, that I got to test them in weather right away, and that I made it to the park without issue (I passed even more accidents). No surprise that the park looked like a ghost town under the gray sky and all the water falling out of it. There were no pretty views. I checked the weather radar on my phone, the rain was going to keep up for about an hour, then get even worse. It was about 52 degrees out - not freezing, but not warm either. My car was very nice and warm. And it was really nice to be dry. Maybe the treadmill would be better, later, after all... hmmmm... and then I saw some guy running up on the ridge. FINE - if he can do it, so can I. 

I left my safe warm cocoon and immediately started my warmup run toward the hill, and of course also immediately got wet. As I approached the base of the hill, a pair of mallard ducks were just off the path. There are a lot of ducks in Oregon, where I'm headed to do my first IronMan 70.3 this July. I called out 'Cheerio, duckies!' to them, and I'm not sure if they or me were more surprised by my chipper greeting. Then I took off up the hill for the first of eight intervals. Easy odds, hard evens, and I got faster, and the rain fell harder, with each repeat. It really was a great day for ducks and that day, for that hour, I was one of them. 

Two weeks later, I'm still in the rainstorm. I am wet. Things were hard when I did this run in the rain - I had just returned to Colorado from my mom's in Florida, where my grandma is dying. She's 98 and has been extremely healthy until now. She has had a great long run of life, always saying 'Don't sit down too long, you'll get old.' Wise words from a great lady who took her own advice, until last month when she physically couldn't. But that trip was likely the last time I will see her alive. Just like the rain on my run that morning, we knew this was coming. All of us are drenched from it a little sooner (and for much longer) than we expected. I'm not sitting down in my sadness. I do my best to just carry it with me on my runs and my rides, and I drown my tears in the pool. I know the workouts provide a little spot of sunshine even if they are hard, or muddy, or the water is freezing cold, so I do them. And during and after, I'm always reminded that every day is a gift, even if you get wet. 

death and taxes

I procrastinate. Always have, and since that habit generally serves me, I keep it up. I haven't done my own taxes since you had to pick up a 1040 at your local post office. I don't even know where to get a 1040 now, if I needed to, but I'm assuming it's all online. When I had my own business, I paid an accountant to do my taxes. After that, I had a wonderful accounting friend who joyfully did them for me. This year, she got in the middle of her dogs fighting, then ended up in the hospital from the resulting infection. She said she'd still do my taxes, but I heard nothing from her after that, which is very, very unlike her. I was afraid she was gravely ill and I should leave her alone to heal, and I'd be fine doing our taxes on my own. Except... I remembered me and DH had done a weird account conversion thingy that had some kind of tax something, and associated paperwork that was who knows where? And I couldn't get into an online system to get my W2 from a former employer printed. So now it was a week before everything is due and I had some of our W2s, random 1099s, a vague sense I'm missing some things and still no 1040.

The only reason I had any tax stuff together prior to April 14th, was because my mom had called me the weekend before, to tell me my grandma was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia. My grandma is 98, and when a 98-year old gets pneumonia it's not exactly a good situation. Mom said they went to urgent care where she was instructed to get Grandma to the ER right away because her oxygen levels were so low. Mom told me she went home after they admitted her, and then the ER doc had called her at 2AM because he was looking at the chest scan and Grandma's lungs were really in bad shape - nodules, coming from somewhere else, a mass somewhere. Mom said he was an ER doc so she didn't know if he knew anything, she'd wait to talk to the hospital doctor, but she hadn't heard from them yet so wanted to update me in the meantime. 

My mother almost went to medical school herself, so I knew I didn't need to tell her that an ER doc certainly knows how to interpret a scan, and if they were calling you to discuss results at 2AM, it's likely they have good reason to do so. I can give her the grace that she didn't want to believe the doctor was calling her to deliver very grave news about her mother's health. But after that initial update call from my mom, I started getting my tax docs together so that if I had to hop on a plane, that's one less thing to think about. It's no surprise that within 24 hours, the hospital physician confirmed that the ER doc was right. The hospital could treat the pneumonia, but the rest of the problem is likely a cancer that has metastasized to my grandma's lungs, which is not something anyone can do anything about.

And so, on the way to a track workout* me and DH decided I should indeed hop on a plane. And my dear accounting friend called me that night as I was buying the ticket, to tell me she could get my taxes done, so I was able to cobble everything together for her mostly before I took the trip, and some while I took the trip. And the next day I flew to Florida, and we moved my grandma to my mom's house to start home Hospice. And then it was Hospice case workers and nurses and what do you need for the patient and this patient is imminent and here's how you administer the morphine and where are the antibiotics do we even need them at this point and she said Aunt Margaret came to visit her and did you withhold any taxes on that conversion can you send me the forms how is your grandmother this is the third priest we've seen this week I forgot to tell my friends I was out of town so couldn't meet them. 

Grandma making pickled eggplant last May

The good news is, Grandma is stable, she is happy she is NOT IN A FACILITY - because 'if you put me into a facility, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU.' The woman knows what she wants, even it she's got one foot in this world and one in the other. I also feel like I have one foot in two worlds right now, one in Florida and one in Colorado. I flew back to CO on Tuesday last week, and met up with the book club women for dinner that night. Went to East for mentoring Wednesday. Did a wonderful trail run with my coach on Thursday morning, with stunning views of the snowy mountains, but it was absolutely frigid - so cold and windy that I swore I had gotten frostnip on my face and hands (all good). Other than the chills, that run was perfect. I haven't been trail running in years and it was everything I needed and more. And we're getting ready to return to FL next week.

The account conversion thingy did come with a hefty tax hit, which we didn't know how much it would be but it ended up being a lot less than I expected. And, no future taxes on that money, so cheers to future us. Uncertainty, and then certainty. And my Grandma - some days she sleeps and talks gibberish, then she's up asking did Elizabeth make it home and can I have a ham sandwich? Which, she ATE.... after not really eating for days, so... uncertainty. Certainty will come, but for now, it's a little rough. I'm just happy I know my own name, this week. I am doing the best I can to stay as healthy as possible, which does not feel easy, but Friday I went to yoga. And yesterday I swam. And today holds a training ride with DH and others, where I can ponder how to tell the story of this great lady who really had a really great long run. 

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* This was a glorious track workout with RMTC at Ruby Hill Park, which warrants its own post, someday when I'm feeling like I know more than how to spell my own name. 

wardrobe refresh and choosing YOU

Last month I went through all my work/dress pants, jeans and shorts and removed everything that is too big. Some of this clothing is very nice, and I have great memories attached to almost every article - I've had many items for over ten years! But the clothes don't fit me anymore, and I feel too good at my current size to hold on to the larger sizes "just in case." Back when I first lost 30 pounds on Weight Watchers, I donated all my too-big clothes and got a new wardrobe in my new size. That new wardrobe kept me in check ever since, I never gained that weight back. So now that I've lost a few more pounds and am super happy with how I look and feel, it's time for another wardrobe refresh in my newer size. 

I took some items to my tailor for alterations (cheaper than buying new!) and passed the rest of the best items to friends. I donated anything that was dated but still had plenty of wear left, and of course I tossed the things that were ripped or stained. I resurrected quite a few pair of pants and shorts I was keeping in a bin for "when I lose some weight" - that bin is now empty! Hooray for more storage space. And as my March training present to myself, I bought 2 new pair of shorts and 2 new dresses. A big wardrobe refresh is a process - I will work on the tops and dresses this month and next. But this is really a worthy process because I'm choosing fit and healthy ME. 

I'm currently reading Atomic Habits by James Clear. It has me reflecting on how my systems set me up for successes, for mediocrity, or for failure. Right now I am just making observations on my habits, but it's not lost on me that the title of this blog is Skinny People Take the Stairs... from an observation of mine long ago [described in initial post]. Fit, healthy people generally move as much as they can, including finding and using the stairs to get to different floors - habitually getting more movement. Every time I choose to take the stairs, to do my workout, to eat the healthy option, I'm voting for fit, healthy me. Purging my larger clothes is right in line with that.

Training keeps on keeping on. I ran 12 miles Thursday, swam almost 2 miles Friday and biked 40 miles yesterday. I also feel GREAT! Yesterday was a spectacular spring day, and we were gifted beautiful views of the snowy mountains as we rode through Cherry Creek State Park. I want to paint that scene, following Patrick in his Zia race series jersey under that super blue sky... bike path curving around the distant snow-capped mountains... What a DAY. We had planned to ski up in those mountains today, but we're dog sitting for our neighbors, and I didn't realize they don't get back until Tuesday. I'm not sure their dog would be OK hanging out in the car while we ski, like ours are used to doing... So it looks like my day off will be spent giving them all a great walk, then taking the cruiser bikes down to a brewery. It's another spring day here in Denver so that totally works for me!

I hope you are setting yourself up for a great healthy week ahead. In the words of one of my members, when you make choices, don't forget to choose YOU, Y-O-with-a-heart-for-the-O-U. 💖

don't sacrifice the gift

Just over a week ago, the last of my dad's ski buddies (and a great friend to our family) went to join my dad on The Mountain of the Great Beyond. Two days later, me and Mr. Blueberry Pancakes went skiing, and as we were putting on our ski boots in the parking lot under the sunshine, my shoulders felt heavy, my chest caved in as my chin dropped, and I started sobbing with the realization that all of the men who taught me to ski as a kid and showed me how to have fun on the mountain - they are all gone now. They don't get any more days like this, and I don't get any more days of any kind with them. They're all gone. 

I shocked myself when I told Mr. Blueberry Pancakes that I was SO SAD. Equally shocked that I had vocalized an unpleasant emotion, his face crumpled with worry, and he wrapped his arms around me and said we didn't have to ski. I let my less-audible tears sop his shoulder for a bit and then I picked my head up. As I pulled away, I said no, we're alive, and we can, so I'd rather go be sad on skis and a chairlift than on the couch. So we finished buckling our boots, gathered our skis, poles and lunch, and headed for the base area. 

Mr. BP loves a challenge on the mountain. With my tri training, skiing is something I do on my recovery day, so lately I've been more inclined to easy-ski and cruise around the more mellow trails on the front side. As we were on the bus to the base, I asked DH what kind of day he wanted, and of course he said he wanted to head to the back. I said I need a warmup, and I'm not interested in doing the harder bowls, but I'll go over to the slightly less difficult area and if he wanted more of a challenge, I'm happy to meet him at the end of the day. He actually wanted to ski the same area, so after a couple fun cruiser runs down the front of the mountain, we turned our skis toward the backside and were greeted with mounds of great powder! 

Heaven on earth - Copper Mountain

We had such a good time playing around in that soft snow that for the first time in ages (maybe since we were married?) we never went inside - we even ate our packed lunches on the lift! Toward the end of the day, we were riding the chair back up and hoping for one more powder run, but we knew we were cutting it close. We reached the top and whooped as we saw the area was still open, so we quickly skied over to it and hopped in just ahead of the ski patrollers. They pulled the rope up behind us to close it for the day, meaning we now had the powder fields to ourselves for our last run on it! We took our time skiing down, enjoying the views, the snow and each other. As Mr. BP took this photo of me, I said I was still sad there would be no more days like this with The Gone, but I was happy that we could enjoy this day together. I told him I was certain that THEY put in the request for US to have THIS beautiful powder day, and I was so happy we had not sacrificed the gift. We were the last ones on the chairlift out, and then we blissfully cruised down the front side of the mountain as the sun dipped toward the horizon. 

The following day was the fifteen-year anniversary of when my dad went down, before he died almost two weeks later. This part of March is always a sad hard time for me, with varying degrees of difficulty every year. But this year I'm happy that Dad now has all his ski buddies with him, I'm happy I inherited his love for the mountains, I'm grateful for the foundation he built so I could enjoy this life, and so very thankful for my health and that I prioritize it to keep skiing. And I'm super thankful that all those ski guys in The Beyond made sure we had a powder day. I had an extra glass of wine and three unplanned thin mints cookies that night, which is OK as a blip. But I didn't want that nonsense to continue over the next two weeks, so I've been mindful to take a little extra care of me and get all my training workouts done here on The Road to Oregon. Like me, my dad loved to ride a bicycle, so it was very nice that he made sure I was gifted TWO outdoor riding days here in Colorado last week as well - that definitely helped my spirits. 

Today is a rest day, one I will take completely off from tri training, on the end of my recovery week. Yesterday I was telling my sister how glorious recovery weeks are, and how thrilled I was that I only had to do a one hour run and she says, "Oh that sounds like a nightmare to me, right now." We both burst out laughing as it really is a matter of perspective - six months ago this would have sounded like a scary nightmare to me, too! But here I am, and I'm just happy I can do it. I actually ran over six miles in that hour, which is a very big feat for me, and I felt (and still feel) GREAT! Today I'm about to walk the doggies around in the sunshine, Mr. BP is headed to the rec center for a swim workout, and we'll do something fun together afterward. It's almost warm enough to ride bikes to a brewery or something.... hmmmmmm... 

Happy Sunday, friends. Life is short, go play outside with the people you love. 

best run ever

Last Saturday I had a ten mile run on my training calendar, and all week leading up to it I was intimidated by the number. Double digits. Ten miles sounded very long and very difficult. When the weekend came, for a Saturday in February in Colorado, it was a super nice day for a run. Some of the others in the training group had their long run scheduled for Sunday, and my coach had said I could swap my weekend workouts to run with them if I'd like. I really didn't want one more day of mental anguish, so I decided to just go for it as planned on Saturday. 

I put off starting the run until late afternoon, having calculated the time I needed to have enough daylight to finish... if I finished. The workout instructions were to run the first seven miles very easy, then pick it up with descending splits for each of the last three miles. Well, three miles into the run at my very easy pace, I was still 'in my head' about how long and difficult this run was going to be by the time I got to TEN MILES. But somewhere in that third mile, I acknowledged to myself that I felt better than I had on the first mile. As I passed the halfway point, I thought 'Hey, this really is OK.' At mile six, I realized this run is totally doable, so I asked myself what was it that I wasn't trusting, earlier? My coach gave me the workout, she knows what I can do. I haven't had any pain during training so far. I've been running almost nine miles, why did adding a little more than one mile scare me so much? What didn't I trust? I had no answer. I kept running. 

During mile seven, I backed off my pace a bit to gear up for the faster final miles. A few minutes before starting that first faster mile, I knew that I was GOING to finish this run strong, with descending splits as directed. I picked up my pace a bit, ahead of the plan. Let's do this. 

Mile 8: HERE WE GO. Whoa, not that fast, you have to pick it up again for miles nine and ten! But holy moly, I feel great!

Mile 9: Ok, pick it up a little more now, GOOD - now hang on to this pace! Ugh, this mile is hard. But hey, I can do hard things, and I am DOING THIS.

Mile 10: GO!!! This is IT, strong finish! I picked up the pace again, I held on, and before I had time to process anything else that last mile was DONE, and I ran it at a faster pace than what I would run for a 5K.

I turned to start my cooldown. The sky over the mountains hovered in the faint yellows of early sunset. I couldn't help but yell to the heavens and everyone else in the park within earshot that "I DID IT!" I had run ten miles, getting faster each of the last three miles, NOTHING hurt, and I as I breathed deeply, I acknowledged that I actually felt fantastic. I started laughing and I burst into tears.

I'd love to tell you that I spent hours on full recovery and had perfect nutrition afterward. I did stretch, a lot, so that was good, and I had leftover rotisserie chicken, veggies and pretzels as my recovery meal - also good! But then we went to a birthday party for a friend, which turned out to be super fun, with great food and wine. I ate back all my calories and then some. Some days are like that. It doesn't mean I'm not a healthy person. It doesn't mean I'm not working toward my goals. I realize now that I probably should have eaten a little more post-run, because I was absolutely starving by the time we got to the restaurant. Noted. The day after that run, my legs felt good, I had a relaxing recovery swim, and just kept going with my training. 

Yesterday I ran eleven miles. I bested myself on the overall run, my pace descended for each of the last five miles and my final mile was twenty-four seconds faster this week over last. This is fairly common in early training, but even so, it's wonderful to see. I am very happy to tell you my post-workout eating improved immensely! Today I feel great, and I really am just so very grateful I can do this. It is truly a GIFT. 

I hope you are having a great healthy weekend. I'm coming up on my hard training week, so today will be spent relaxing and prepping to GO GET IT. You go get yours, too. ;)