Some Like It Hot

... and some sweat when the heat is on.

To say it's been hot lately would be a little bit of an understatement. It's pretty much just miserable. I have to say that I wouldn't mind the heat so much (that's not to say I actually like it, it just wouldn't be as bad) if I didn't sweat to much and so easily. Sweating is ok when your working out, in fact I love it. I don't feel like I have gotten a good workout unless I am dripping by the end. On all other occasions sweating is not ok!

This situation is made even worse by the fact that I do not have a/c in my car, or apartment. You are probably thinking, what kind of crazy person am I? Well first of all I spent the first 12 years of my life with out a/c, an in a weird way I almost kind of liked falling asleep with the breeze of a giant fan blowing in my face. I even remember summers at cheerleading camp packing into UMass dorm rooms sleeping with box fan parked at the head of my bed. It was amazing. I am not a crazy person. I just keep forgetting to get an a/c unit for my apartment. I have lived there for three years. Ok maybe that does make me a crazy person. And my car? well that's the same story. The a/c hasn't worked in my trusty '97 Volvo for at least two years, but I always seem to make it at least halfway through the summer with out much suffering and once August hits I feel like it would just be better to wait until next year.

At any rate I am staying cool by mooching of of other people's a/c such as Boyfriend and work. This is not to say that I am visiting Boyfriend or going into the office purely because of the amazingly refreshing arctic air, but it is a nice perk. Any tips on how to beat the heat during/after workouts or just how to stay cool in general? I would love, love, love to hear them.

xx Sara

July

"Can we sleep in tomorrow?", Boyfriend asks me. We are driving up the New Jersey Turnpike on our way to New England to spend the holiday weekend with my family.
"Of course," I answer, a confused look across my face. "Why on earth would we be getting up early?" By now it is after 8pm and we still have about four hours of driving before we can sleep.
"I didn't know if you wanted to run."
"Ha ha ha" I laugh. I can't help it. It's Wednesday, only three days have passed since Boston and my half marathon.
"Honey," I say, turning to him for a brief second and then my eyes go back to the road. "The next few weeks may be my last chance to sleep in for the rest of year! I am NOT waking up early tomorrow."

When I tell my mom this the next morning she says "But you're still going to run right?" Well of course. I can't go more than three days with out working out. Of course I will run. I just won't be getting up early, I won't be running for time, with my watch, or any of the other things required when training for a race. I will run on my terms and on my time.

It was nearly 3:30 in the afternoon before we headed out for a run. There were four of us, Mom, Boyfriend, Littlest sister, and me. We are all in a line, like a family of ducks, I am at the front and Mom at the back. It was almost like we made our own little running club. It must have been quite the sight to see if you were driving by.

I coulnd't help but be amazed at the fact that I felt great. Didn't I just run a half marathon on Sunday? I did. It was amazing. And I am not even skipping a beat getting back into it. The hills I used to look at with fear, not laid out in from of me as gental rolling terrain. The more days that pass since the race, the better I feel about it. The better I feel about the shape I am in. For the next few weeks I plan on enjoying not being tied to a schedual. When I want to run I will run, if I don't want to run I won't.

The best part? It's summer. And what I realy want to do is go to the beach. So I think today, I'll do that instead.

xx Sara

Reflections

If not burning out is my goal, I am definitely suceeding

Somewhere past Rhode Island but a long way from Philadelphia, my thoughts drift from my book and to the scenery passing by my window outside the train. "Once A Runner" falls open in my lap, and as I skim over the words I can't help but think back to the half marathon I had run days earlier. It was a smart race, a challenging course, my asthma acted up on that last hill. Are those excuses? Facts? What am I trying to convince myself of? Who am I trying to prove myself to?

I think back to the race. In the end it all comes down to numbers. Time. Non-runners have no concept of what it takes to maintin a pace for any number of miles. But time, to them, is something they can comprehend although they don't understand.
"How did you do?" They will ask me at work tomorrow.
"I had fun, the course was challenging but I enjoyed it, it was great"
"But what was your time?" They will want to know
"2:10:39" I will say even though I know it means nothing to them, I know they don't get it. All they hear is "not as fast as last time"

They don't know all the factors that go into your final time. Training, weather, elevation, preperation, and even if you do everything perfectly you never know what curve balls could be thrown to you during the race. Anyone could have a bad race. And I wouldn't even classify this race as bad. I thought it was great! Despite all that I still feel as though I let people down. I can't help that think because I have such a passion for running, that people expect a lot of me. They don't understand how some beginer can be faster than someone who's been at it for years. Fast and Slow are useless terms. I know this. But race results are not given in "smart" or "reckless". They are not sorted by "time taken to recover" and they don't list out "ran even splits every mile" or "went out of the gate too fast and paid for it in the second half"

I am aware, at this point, that I am simply starting off into space with an open book on my lap. I get lost in the words, "the trial of miles", the motions of running. My thoughts drift back to hot summer nights running intercals on the river. I will never stop loving running. And I have to remind myself that running, like life, is a journey not a destination. It's about every hour, week and month you get to run. Sometimes we get so caught up in the end goal we forget about everything else. I forget that I have managed to run for eight striaght months now with out an injury *knock on wood*. I forget that I have run myself into the best shape I have been in in almost two years. I forget that I have run some kick butt hills, and those hills in turn have kicked my butt into shape. I forget that this is just a stepping stone on the path to the main event. The Philadelphia Marathon.

So I will take this 2:10:39. I will take the fast recovery. I will be back at the gym by Tuesday, and back to running by Thursday. And when it comes time to start marathon training I will be ready, just as full of passion and energy for running as always.

xx Sara

Boston 13.1 - Race Report

3:50 am. A time when the craziest of party animals are finally calling it a night and little children are tucked safely asleep in their beds. Certainly not a time to be waking up for the day. Unless you are me (or one of the hundreds of other Team Challenge participants) rising to get ready for 13.1 miles of pure running joy. Warning - this is a long post.

Team Challenge Team Philly. Most amazing group of people I had the privilege of training with

Part One: My reflections on the course and the organization (or lack thereof)

13.1 Boston, one of eight half marathons in the 13.1 series put on by US Road Sports, was in my mind not a beginner or first timer race. I have participated and volunteered for some great races in the past few years, so I know what it takes from behind the scenes and I know what runners expect when they show up. Then again, if this was my first race perhaps I would not know any better and would have been happy just for the great day.

We boarded buses as a team for the 25 minute drive to Canton Mass where the race was actually held. Boston? oh well I guess technically if you have a race in the suburbs you can attach it to that city by association. In all honesty I didn't have a real problem with the location. A friend of mine from the Boston area was also running the race and he drove up to the start on his own and said he had no problem parking although he was smart and planned to arrive nice and early. The start area was a decent sized field, with space to house several large tents for sponsors, vendors and runner services. My first confused moment happened while looking for the gear check, as there were many large white tents and not a single one of them said anything about gear or checking it. Finally I stumbled upon one that was labeled "runner services" that was collecting tagged bags from runners. Odd, but they took my things and I was too full of nerves to really be bothered.

The race started simple enough, your basic national anthem and then ready set go or something like that. Many people started running way before the finish line, but I stayed stubborn and waked until the very moment we crossed the timing mats. The course started off pretty flat. If it was going uphill at all I barely noticed. It wasn't until right before mile three that we made a right turn uphill that I started to realize this course was going to be a little bit of a challenge. At the top of the hill was the second water stop of the course, I grabbed a cup and kept going. The course rolled downwards, then up, down and leveled out for the turn around as we headed back up down and up again. We doubled back to the same water stop as earlier, and to my honest surprise, the volunteers had run out of cups. They were pouring water into our cupped hands, or people were just drinking out of jugs before handing them to the next thirsty runner. I know this was a first time race, but to run out of something so crucial as cups this early on in a race? How do you let this happen?

The rest of the race was no better. Right before mile 5 we turned right again and headed for another hill only bigger and badder than the last. At the top, another water stop of chaos. I kept expecting the usual "water in front Gatorade in the back" but no one ever made a mention of Gatorade. Not once. I can't imagine I would have wanted to scoop it up in the palms of my hand anyways even if they did have it. Water dries, but I don't think I would have run well with sticky hands for half the race. The downhill around mile eight was a godsend. and as we made our way through yet another right hand turn the road leveled off, and then continued plunging down. Down, down down, and all I kept thinking was please god just bring me an uphill because I know it's going to smack us all in the face when it gets here. And it did; at mile 11. The road went up, and up, and up for what felt like forever. It had to be at least a half mile. Thankfully that was the worst of it and I survived to see it through to the other end. After mile 12 I started to see spectators and they began to cheer. This seems like such a normal concept but so much of the race was run in the woods and through residential areas. The encouraging words kept me going and before I knew it I could hear cheering and loud music and could see the finish line.

It was the most anticlimactic finish I have had to date. There was no one there at the end tossing you a cold water bottle and words of congratulations. There was at best a table full of cases of warm water bottles that you pretty much had to fetch for yourself. There was no one putting a medal around your neck and saying "good job". Instead you had to cross an open field and get it from one of the race volunteers. At many other previous races there was a large tent for post race food where volunteers would hand you a perfectly rationed bag with one of everything inside. A piece of fruit, an energy bar, some kind of bagel or bread product. Not here. Everything was a complete free for all. And there was nothing to carry it in so even though the Costco sized muffins looked mouth watering I had no hands to carry it around in. I did grab an orange (my favorite post race treat) although my hands were left sticky with juice which I washed off in an iced filled kiddie pool behind one of the tents. Don't Judge.

I heard later on from some teammates that not only did they run out of cups, but eventually they ran out of water all together. Maybe it was because several race participants, faced with the prospect of no cups for their beverages, just grabbed a whole jug and raced on with it in hand taking sips the whole way. Race organizers also had the nerve to tear down the finish line before all participants had finished so they could open the roads back up. I can't even imagine how I would feel if I had worked for so long to train for this event and as I was on my way to the finish I could see it being disassembled. Talk about heart breaking.

Was the race seemingly disorganized and poorly planned? Yes. Do they have lots of room for improvement thanks to the fact that they set the bar pretty low? Yes. Will I be coming back next year to find out if it gets any better from here? Oh no.

Part Two: The experience of it all; Team Challenge

As I wrote before, this race to me was about much more than a finish time. At the pre-race pasta dinner, I was nearly brought to tears multiple times listening to patients who had the strength to share their story with the world in order to raise money to find a cure and endure weeks of training in the process. Being there with my team who I had trained with for months made this weekend more than a race.

When my alarm went off in the pre-dawn hours of the morning I happily sprung (ok ok I did not spring it was more like a roll, but I was happy) from my bed to get dressed to the nines. As a well seasoned runner I felt like I owed it to all the first timer to be as upbeat and positive as I could possibly be. I was also really excited for my bow, my temporary tattoo, wristbands, and bright orange singlet. I bounded into the lobby, gear check bag slung over my shoulder (also tied with a bright blue bow) bagel in hand ready to get the day started. We gathered in a gaggle of excitement and nerves, attaching D-tags and sipping on water bottles, all too amped up on adrenaline to yet be tired.

The buses were something reminiscent of a high school sports team away game road trip. All dressed in our race singlets, carb loaded, rested and ready to go. We chattered about the whole ride, talking about past races, expectations, etc. Before I knew it we had arrived, although it sure didn't look like a race start line because we were in the middle of the woods. The beats of blasting music drew us away from the parking area and into the open field where I cheerfully danced my way to drop off my gear, met up with a friend from the Boston area also running the race and spent the remainder of the time in line for the glorious porta-potties before lining up on the tiny two lane road for the start.

I'm not going to lie, the race course was challenging. But I like a challenge and I didn't mind. The out and back portions of the course provided a great opportunity to cheer for my teammates as they passed. Despite the hills, the up and downs kept my mind off the distance left to cover and the miles flew by faster than they have in any half marathon that I could remember. While running downhill around mile 8, Coach Jack caught up with me and gave me some wise (as always) words of advice. "If nothing else, run the rest of the hills smart". So when mile 11 rose out in front of me I took his advise and picked a steady manageable pace. When my breaths started getting short I made sure not to push it. Although inside I was screaming at myself for not being able to push harder, I knew If I went too fast at this point I would be forced to slow to a ridiculously slow almost walk. I have never been happier than when that hill ended and a slow decent to the finish began. Spectators began popping up along the side of the road, cheering us one, assuring us that we were almost there. This seems like the norm but so much of the race was run in the woods that I was used to running within the confines of my own mind. Concentrating on the bigger picture, the fight against Crohn's and all the people battling something much more difficult than 13.1 miles every day of their lives.

The crowd on both sides grew thicker and all of a sudden the finish line was visible. The cheering, and support of spectators, of Team Challenge endurance managers, coaches, and participants alike was incredible. "Go Team Challenge" and "Go Sara" rang out all around me (my name was on my bib). My time was disappointing, but it was quickly pushed to the back of my mind as one of my teammates crossed the finish line shortly after I did. It was her first half marathon ever, and she ran the whole time. We went out in search of water bottles medals and food. Incredibly we both still had energy left to dance to loudly playing music, the soreness of our efforts had not yet set in.

Walking around the finish area with this woman, who was absolutely glowing with pride, that was an amazing moment. The first time you cross that finish line and feel like you can (and it's true, you really can) accomplish anything, that is a one time feeling and it was great to see it in someone else. For the next few hours I wandered around the field, running into my teammates and offering them all sweaty congratulations hugs. It felt so amazing to be part of something so big, and something so good. Not only within my own team, but all the teams that came together from across the country to participate this this one event. The after race party was a celebration of not just the race but of the money and awareness raised for the cause. It was, to me, what made the day as incredible as it was.

Do you want to make a difference? Do you want to help change the lives of millions? It's not too late to donate! GO HERE

xx Sara

Getting Race Ready

With three days left until I leave for Boston for the Team Challenge half marathon, I'm once again starting my list of what to pack for the weekend. This time I will be gone for three days, no Boyfriend to accompany me and I want to make sure I don't forget a single thing (although I know I will). Now I am not completely high maintenance. I don't need to bring my own pillows, or sheets, I can make due with hotel coffee and such, but there are a few necessities

- Gatorade Powder. Lightweight and can be mixed into any water bottle anywhere.

- Once A Runner. Last year Boyfriend was so sweet as to buy me a copy of my fave running novel. The night before the race it helps me ease pre-race day nerves

- Hair Accessories. Since my first ever marathon I have worn a bow in bow in my hair for (almost) every race. It started as a way to work some pink into my outfit, and continued as a superstition. For this race, because the Team Challenge colors are navy and orange I plan on being a little over the top and wearing something a little like this. I'll be channeling my inner cheerleader.

What are you packing for your next race?

xx Sara

Baking like Betty

This weekend I had a get together with my college girlfriends for one of our, what we like to call "wine days". It started about a year and a half ago as a time to get together just girls, cook good food, have a few drinks and just have a good time. Now with two of us married (and pregnant) one engaged and the rest of us finally having found good men worthy of being boyfriends, we decided to nix the wine for once and just have a fun filled BBQ get together and bring all the boys along too. I had my heart set on making a dessert, because who doesn't like dessert? And at first I was content with making cupcakes (even though, knowing me, they would be made-from-scratch-over-the-top-perfect cupcakes) until I came across these babies. Of course Annie makes them look so much more delicious than my photos probably do, and I don't have a magical kitchen torch (or regular torch for that matter...) but I found that the broiler worked great!

Look at me all prepared, food network style, laying out all my crust ingredients.

True story: I love making things from scratch. Yes it is often harder than pre packages or pre-mixed but it is so much more fun to see the product develop in front of your eyes. Well worth all the effort, much like running.

Layer one, the crust, is a combo of graham cracker crumbs, butter, and sugar mixed together and pressed into a foil lined pan (sprayed with cooking spray). At first this seemed like overkill - and being one to rebel against direction I almost skipped the foil. Thank goodness I didn't it made extracting the bars from the pan SO easy!

Crust all mixed up and ready to spread into my pan. Smelled like Golden Grahams. Yum.

Bake crust for 10 minutes - Check

Recipe says "chocolate - finely chopped" I opted for "broken into pieces by hand" and it worked just fine.

My double boiler (for melting the chocolate) looks a tad disproportional and awkward

Time to make the cheesecake! Cream cheese, eggs, marshmallow creme, vanilla, and greek yogurt (I got adventurous and subbed sour cream with yogurt)

Here is where I get to brag about my Kitchen Aid mixer as if it was my first born child. I will gloat about the cookies, cakes and batters it has turned out as if they were academic achievements instead of a result of my hard work and ability to follow a recipe. I love my Kitchen Aid mixer, and I love any excuse to bring it out and whip a few ingredients together. It is to me, what Boyfriend's sports car is to him. It must always be cared for, cleaned shinned and polished. Now that you all think I am certifiably insane you can read about the rest of the my baking...

Go Speed Mixer!

Mixing in eggs, cocoa,

Last step is mix in that yummy melted chocolate and watch the creamy mixture turn into sweet chocolate cheesecake heaven.

My favorite part of all time was watching the mini marshmallows brown under the broiler.

As delicious as they looked I had to put them in the fridge for the night and wait until the next day to dig in. Although the boys couldn't keep straight exactly what they were, calling them time and time again "those brownies with stuff on top", I knew by the fact that I went home with an empty dish that they were a hit. Of course like my running I am never satisfied, thinking maybe I should tweak the cheesecake part to make it taste a little more chocolaty. But like any good run, I have to remind myself what's done is done and it was my best effort. Everyone was happy. Tomorrow is a new day. Who knew that running and baking had so much in common?

Actual Recipe

xx Sara

Daddy's Girl

If Dad had a choice, I would be a golfer.

Not for lack of trying, Daddy trying to get me into golf at an early age

So would my sisters. We would love the sport just as much as he does, we would love watching televised tournaments instead of just tolerating them, and just maybe we'd know enough to be able to pick out golf related gifts instead of relying on him to tell us what to get. He didn't get that lucky, we all love different things, but the best thing about Dad is he doesn't really care. What matters the most is that we are happy at whatever we do (and for me that I am successful enough in life to be financially independent because man, girls are expensive!).

He teases me about my choice of sport on weekends that I come home to visit. We are both up early on Saturday mornings and while he is chipper with the excitement of heading off to the golf course and enjoying his complete balanced breakfast, I lay on the kitchen floor eating a power bar and mentally prepping myself for my long run. Neither of us understand what the other sees in our sport. I don't have the hand/eye coordination to enjoy hitting a little white ball with a club and then chase it through the grass. And for whatever reason he doesn't enjoy the mental and physical torment of running for hours at a time. He always has some joke to make about him enjoying his golf and me looking so miserable heading out for a run. We both head for the door saying our "goodbyes" and "have funs" as I head off on foot and him by car. We may be into different activities, but at the end of the day we get the same thing out of each one. Time alone to think, clear our minds, enjoy a beautiful Saturday morning, each in our own way.

Thanks Dad for always letting me follow my heart even if it leads me to crazy places, and for always being there to cheer me on.

Happy Father's Day!

xx Sara