Feet Move Forward

( source ) There is a 5K this weekend near my hometown and my parents'  ministry is sponsoring it, meaning I'm obligated to run. Originally I had planned on running it with my mom at a nice, easy pace. Now I'm thinking of racing it.  I use the term racing loosely because: I'm nowhere near race shape.  I have no intention of winning/placing in my age group/running a PR.  My only achievement will likely be vomiting at the finish line for the first time after a race.  This race will merely give me an idea of where I'm at fitness-wise and will provide a baseline for summer training paces. Does anyone want to trek down with me? I need someone to hold back my hair at the finish line. Plus, it's for a good cause.

I've run twice a day the last two days, not on purpose, really, but it's making me feel like a serious runner again.  I was a terribly behaved runner last week though, just running three short runs. Instead of logging quality miles this weekend, I used it to drink beer and wine, eat tacos and pizza and my mom's amazing rhubarb cake with extra whipped cream. So after seven weeks of maintaining a relatively consistent running schedule and being cognizant of what I'm eating, I haven't dropped one of the pounds I packed on during my break with running.  ( source ) With today's processed, packaged food, it's so incredibly easy to consume a thousand calories within minutes. Do you know how long it takes to burn that? A lot longer than minutes. So my solution? Less sugar, fewer carbs, less eating out and, as much as it pains me to say it, less wine. As I wrote to Ann earlier today, wine turns me into a hunger terrorist. I will binge eat turkey after tw

  ( source ) I gave two weeks notice at my job today.  There are many, many things influencing my decision to leave (like having gypsy blood) but in short, everything that's happened in the last few months has brought me to this tipping point. I'm not leaving TCM for another desk job or even a traditional job, for that matter. (No, I'm not becoming a professional runner.) I will, however, be predominately working for myself. And I'm terrified in the holycrapholycrapholycrap kind of way when you know you're taking a big leap . And I'm excited. At the risk of sounding trite, I know I'm being called to do something bigger than what I have been doing. To him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine... Want the full scoop? Let's go for a run. Or froyo.  PS- If you just glossed over the picture at the beginning of this post, go back and read it. Twice. 

On the surface, I am kind. Minnesota Nice . I smile at strangers, hold open doors, say please and thank you , make a conscious attempt to put myself in others shoes and try to let my life reflect what God has given me.  Except I fail all the time. I am rude to my family. I am impatient with my coworkers. I speak when I should remain silent (and vice versa). I'm stubborn and selfish. I take a longer way home to avoid a stop light where I know a homeless man is asking for money. Even after India, I still hate being uncomfortable and within a few short months of being home, I've found myself settled in my old life. Except I haven't. The steadiness of my job, the familiarity of friends, the ease of a Sunday morning service now leaves me with a quiet nagging of Is that it? Except I already know the answer. O f course not. The question becomes What am I going to do about it?  Here is something I think about nearly every day: Right across the high

Last week was race week at work as we executed the Medtronic TC 1 Mile on Thursday night. It's incredible what goes into planning a one-mile race, not to mention event day execution. Here's a high-level look at what happened race day: The day begins with truck load-in. Anybody who is willing and able helps out. Signs, water, kitty litter (to throw on peoples' barf at the finish- no lie), clocks... everything goes in. hooray, interns! After the manual labor portion is complete, I head back to my office to check our social media accounts, which includes checking to see what our athletes are tweeting about, hoping to find some fodder for the media luncheon that afternoon. Because I'm going to be out of the office for the rest of the day, I plan out some tweets and updates that I'll do from my phone later, since I likely won't see a computer until after the luncheon.  The media luncheon (a press conference with food) is scheduled to begin at noon

( source ) This website is now bookmarked. TGIF, right?

This week marked my fifth week of regular running. I won't call it training yet because I'm not following planned workouts or trying to hit certain paces. I'm just getting out there. Something clicked this week, though. I've been running before work to fit everything in, meaning really early mornings- and I am not a morning person. Or at least I wasn't. This week I found myself waking up before my alarm and being excited to run. I didn't want to hit snooze, I didn't want to fall back asleep, I wanted to be out on the road to see the sunrise.  My body is starting to respond, too. My balance is improving, my core is getting stronger and I'm feeling the familiar fatigue that comes when you ask your body to extend beyond its normal limits. I love it. Here's a peek at last week:  Mon: the accidental progression run , 4.5 miles, 7:59 pace Tue: 7.4 miles, 8:17 pace (with Shawn ) Thu: 4.8 miles, 7:54 pace Fri: 5.15 miles, 8:03 pace Sat

( source ) I must have repeated this phrase to myself a dozen times on my run this morning. It's true in running and true in trials. All we can do is keep moving forward.

Since my Grandma's fall , subsequent hospital and rehab stay, I've been spending a lot of time with my grandparents. My Grandma moved back home last week and it's been a pretty rough transition. To recap, she has dementia and virtually no- and I mean no- short-term memory (though some days are slightly better than others). Meanwhile, her long-term memory remains thoroughly intact. She can recall the most minor details of vacations, what she cooked for holiday dinners, and pet's names that were dead and buried before I was born.   Given her current state, you never really know which direction the conversation will turn or what she'll say next. I say this next sentence with the utmost respect and love for her but she's like a two year old with an adult vocabulary, a quality that  embarrasses my Grandpa to no end but one that I find infinitely endearing. Some of her recent gems: If you ask my Grandma how she's doing, nine times out of ten her answer wi

When I go out for a run these days, I am intentional about not going out too fast. I'll glance down at Garm a time or two to make sure it's not creeping under 8:30. I always want my first mile to be the slowest.  Tonight was no different. I had errands to run and was time crunched so I parked near Lake Calhoun. I got started later than I had planned so I scrapped my long run plans in favor of one lap around the lake. No agenda, I just wanted to run. After a few minutes, I glanced down at Garm and he told me I was set to run an 8:23 mile. Not too bad. When I heard him beep the mile split, I didn't look. In fact, I didn't look at all until he beeped the fourth time, 7:57 for the mile. I was just coming to a hill to get back up to my car and told myself that I at least needed to make it to 4.5 miles and that this last half mile couldn't be any slower, even with a hill to climb. As I was running up that hill, I thought about how Joel would say "Up. Up!

I found this video earlier this week, made by Oiselle , a company that evidently makes the world's best women's running apparel. I've never heard of them before but after watching some of their vlogs, they may make the world's funniest (and truest) running videos. See for yourself. If you don't have nearly eight minutes to waste, here's a high-level recap: the 5 faces of marathon pain  I left my mind in the porta-potty and forgot my race pace Pain Solution: Get back on pace. But I don't want to be in any more pain Pain Solution: Love your pain. Weirdo. My toe hurts. My heel hurts. My knee hurts. My left earlobe hurts.. . Pain  Solution: There's no crying in marathoning. The Fear of Quitting Pain Solution: Use this pain, you won't quit. Equipment Failure Pain Solution: oiselle.com  Some of my favorite one-liners: You have so much adrenaline going through your blood you could be used as a human EpiPen.  You're a