OMG another blog post! There were like six months between the last two posts, and now here's another one within a month. I'm trying to rev this up again, I really love to write but often have trouble finding time. But I have lots of stuff I want to get out of my brain and unload onto all of you so thank you for being my somewhat willing audience. I hope my brain droppings continue to amuse and inform you.
So, as you guys know, I've been at this crazy running thing for awhile now. I enjoy doing it, I do a lot of it, and I track what I do. That creates a lot of data. For example, I track my distance. How far I run each time out, plus how much cumulatively in a week, month, year, and so on. I track my time and pace, and other little bits and pieces that probably don't seem like much on a daily scale, but look pretty impressive when combined in graphs and charts and stuff over a long period of time. Originally, I used a cool phone app to track my running stats, but unfortunately, cell phone GPS is still pretty much in the dark ages, despite the prevalence of so many of us hopefully relying on the things to tell us where we are and where we should go and so on. So as most of you have seen, I got myself a Garmin.
Now, for most, that is a meaningless term, I suppose. So, just to clarify, Garmin is a company that specializes in manufacturing GPS enabled technology. For distance sport enthusiasts like runners and bicyclists and the like, they make an assortment of dohickeys that track distance using GPS. Most of these devices are really ugly watches. Now, I might not be the most girly of girls, but I don't particularly like having a big boxy thing squatting on my wrist. So for the most part, though it is very functional as just a plain ol' watch with time and date and stuff like that, it stays in the corner of my room most of the time that I am not running. But when I get ready to run, the Garmin watch takes its place on me along with my ugly cell phone armband holder, my ugly running supply belt and the generally ugly spandex contraptions I squeeze myself into. I'm pretty much one big ball of ugly with all my gear on, but I don't care because when I head out, I know I'll be out running alongside a whole bunch of other people dressed in pretty much the same ugly outfit. It's almost like there's a uniform we all wear, minus the name tags. But that's a blog post for another day.
So since I've got all these devices that have been tracking my stats, all that info has got to go somewhere. Both the phone app I used, as well as the watch, have websites that collect, store and sort all the info. This storing and sorting of info is nothing new for runners. Just the format has changed. In the old days, runners had to map out their runs beforehand with actual paper maps, or by using their car odometers, though that option was kind of dicey if they wanted to run on trails or bike paths. I suppose there were ways they connected with each other to share and trade info about routes, but I'm too lazy to Google any of that. Running clubs come to mind. After plotting out a running course, they would track their times and write the results in log books or journals. I've seen some people that still do this post pictures of them on various social media, and I think to myself, how quaint. Because the internet does all that now. I suppose I might come off as a snob by preferring electronic tracking than paper journaling, but it all comes down to one thing I've already touched on. I'm lazy. I figure, if somebody went to all the trouble to write a bunch of code that would make my running stats look cool and official, I should enjoy the fruit of their labor and put it to good use.
That being said, now what? I've got this info all collected and organized and it looks real nifty, but I'm the only one looking at it. What am I supposed to do with it? Now, I suppose that runners who journal on paper and don't use the internet bring those journals and share them with fellow runners that they know. "Hey, check out this PR I got for my run last week! I did awesome!" And the fellow runner would be like "Hey, that's really great, good job, keep up the good work!" Please note this is not the transcript of an actual conversation, it's only conjecture of what I imagine non internet-using runners to be doing with their info. Again, I'm too lazy to Google if it's actually true. My point is, we no longer share information that way. As we all know by now, the internet has created a completely new platform that we humans can use to share our information. Of course, that is social media.
I'm sure that previous statement elicited more than a couple eye rolls from my approximately 12 faithful readers. "Well, duh". But think about it. Most of us now have joined at least one or more social media platforms. We have access to them via our computers and now handheld devices that we drag around with us everywhere we go. We connect with people we know in real life (like on Facebook), or make new friends and find ways to connect with people who have similar interests (Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, etc.). We learn about our friends and connections through their posts, and they in turn learn about us the same way.
So, most social media users both consume and supply info in the continuously moving stream that is our news feed. We like to read what other people are doing, and we like to share what we are doing. But as we add more followers/friends, we discover that there are people out there that maybe don't share the same interests we have. *Gasp* Each of us has particular interests, those things that are interesting, fascinating, engaging, and exciting to us. We enjoy them so much that want to share with our ever-growing circle of friends, thinking that they are going to jump up and down and clap with joy since that's what we think they should do. So we post our posts, and are surprised when the reaction seems like the sound of crickets chirping. Wait, what? That sandwich I had for lunch was so delicious! How come nobody is liking my picture! And my 20th post this week about my adorable kids? Only 10 likes? What gives? They are ADORABLE! (BTW I'm totally guilty about the adorable kids posts, so don't think I'm calling anyone else out). And not to mention the Gloomy Gus posts. I'm also guilty of this, you guys. OMG, how come nobody is commiserating with me on my 2nd week of allergies and runny nose! Only three people commented to cheer me up, and one of them was my mom, who is required by law to comment positively on every one of my posts! (Love you Mom, keep commenting or I'll come to your house and start eating all your food again). And so it goes.
My dilemma is that my social media affiliations have given me the perfect platform to share all this running info that I regularly generate and want everyone to see because it's Just. So. Exciting. So I share and share and share, and share some more. At first it went really well. When I first started walking, I had a cell phone with a decent camera and FB access. So I created an album on FB called "going for a walk", and every time I went for a walk, I took a picture and posted it with comments about how my walk went. At first everyone commented how great it was and encouraged me to keep going, and it really helped me get through the first part of this journey, which was the hardest. Without my phone dinging at me on a regular basis to tell me I had another comment, I probably would have given up like I had always done before. But hearing all those nice comments made me feel good and want to keep going, so I wouldn't let my "fan base" down.
It was like that for a while, then the comments and likes dwindled. There have been some who were faithful at the beginning and still are to like my posts and chime in with encouraging words. (Love you, Mom! I could totally go for some Bodie fries right now.) And I've reconnected with more folks since then and made new friends along the way who pop up on a regular basis when I post. But mostly, the interest in my activity has waned. That hasn't discouraged me from posting. When I transitioned from only posting photos from my runs to adding stats, there was noticeable drop in interest in my running. I began to think, am I really that boring? Or am I just pissing people off by bragging too much about my accomplishments? Because "fat girl goes for a walk on the beach and loses weight in an effort to better her life" is a lot more interesting and inspiring than "girl who is fit enough to already finish a marathon is training for another marathon and ran 20 miles today." I totally get that. And yet, I still share.
The bottom line of this post (and thank you to everyone who read all of the paragraphs above to get to this point, you deserve a medal for that alone) is that I hope I'm not offending anyone by my multiple posts about my running. My maps, my stats, my PR's, my distances, my pace, my splits and all that stuff. I suppose I should do a post to explain what all that means. I've been buried in the world of running so long that I realize I might use terms that maybe are meaningless to everyone else. But the point is that I share because, like I said earlier, this is something that excites and engages me. My posts are not intended to make people think "Oh look how great MaryAnne is, running all those miles." They are intended to remind everyone of who I used to be and how far I've come. It's been three years now since I got up off the couch and started taking steps to change my life, and what an amazing three years it has been! Every mile I run puts another nail in the coffin of my old lazy, defeated life. Last year alone I put over 1,000 nails in that coffin, and I'm on my way to doing that again this year, and more.
So, if you are connected with me via any of my favorite social media, don't be looking for those posts to disappear any time soon. I have goals I've set for the coming weeks, months, and year, and each victory along the way will elicit some kind of post, whether it's "OMG, I finished another freaking marathon today!" (look for that one in about 6 weeks, you guys), or "I ran six miles and enjoyed the sunshine today." They are coming, I cannot stop and will not stop them. It's no longer about likes and comments (though those are ALWAYS welcome. And Mom, now I want some pie). It's about me wanting to share the joy of the experience of reaching new goals both big and small, and hoping to influence even one person to try and go for their dreams too, not only specifically with running, but with anything that they have in their heart that they want to accomplish. And if you want to take up running, I say go for it! Just make sure you send me a message beforehand and let me know, so I can tell you where to buy the ugly uniform. Because it's required.
Thanks again for reading, all!
Until Next Time
-MaryAnne
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Confessions Of A Race Bling Addict
So here I am looking at the past three years of my life, still with a sense of awe at all that has happened. I can't believe it's already been three years, I still feel like it all began yesterday!
As usual, what I have on my mind right now is running. I suppose this topic might be worn out by now, but I hope my 12 faithful readers can bear with me as I throw out more musings regarding this crazy activity that I love. So here goes.
As I enter this year I am looking back at the progression of the last three years of my life. The first year of what I often refer to as my fitness journey was the beginner year. I made the most significant progress in that first year, I went from a couch potato to an active person. I did participate in a few small road races, each time as part of a group from work, but mostly I just got out there and walked, hour after hour, 3-4 days a week. I didn't track mileage at that time because I was just doing it to lose weight. Then a funny thing happened. I got an Android smart phone, and was futzing with it one day and discovered a GPS app that was designed to track mileage. I was completely unaware that such a thing existed, let alone that I should use one. But being curious, I entered my info, went out for a walk, pushed the start button on the thing, and from that day on I never looked back.
For the first time, other than the races I had done, I had an idea of how far I was actually going each time I got out there. Those numbers really excited me, seeing that little glowing screen with a real number on it lit a fire under me. Soon I was tracking every walk, and as I progressed from walking to running, I set goals to increase mileage and began to really feel amazed at the numbers I saw. It pushed me forward to keep going, to see how much farther I could go and how fast I could do it. At that point I began to think that more difficult race distances were within my reach. I kept at it, getting in the miles and continuing to re-evaluate the idea of what was possible for me to accomplish.
As I entered year two of my journey, I was preparing for the longest distance I'd ever done: a half marathon. I had finished my first 10k race in November, walking most of the way, and I'd been so proud that I could run the entire last mile of the race. Now I began to run more and walk less, and as I added miles to my runs, my faithful GPS friend cheered me on every mile, telling me how fast I'd gone and how far. By the end of January I completed my first 12 miler, then a few short weeks later I finished the half marathon. I ran a lot of it, walked about 1/3 of the total distance of the race, and I finished more than 20 minutes faster than I thought I could. It was an amazing feeling, I felt like I had joined some exclusive club that I had always thought only belonged to the super fit and super crazy. As I crossed the finish line, a complete stranger handed me a ribbon with a little piece of metal on it. It had the race logo, the distance and the date on it. And it was mine. My first half marathon race medal.
Though I had previously done several short races, I'd only gotten one medal up until then. It was in the shape of the Bubba Gump shrimp because they had sponsored the race. Pure product placement. I hadn't thought much of it, but now as I hung medal number two on my bulletin board I could see a pattern forming. I thought that they looked kind of lonely, just the two of them there. And that's when it happened. I started to become addicted to racing and collecting race bling. I immediately signed up for two more half marathons at that point, because I was fired up from the first one, but specifically because the combination of those particular races netted the finisher an extra medal for finishing the "challenge" of completing all three races. I ran the second half marathon a few months after the first, running the entire thing without walking. I ran the third half marathon 5 months after that, with a time half an hour faster than the first one I had done. That was an awesome achievement for me, but I remember the most exciting part for me was going to the tent to pick up my challenge medal after receiving my race medal at the finish line. I walked around that day with not one, but two big hunks of metal around my neck. They were heavy and clanked together obnoxiously, but I loved it. I went home and added them to my bulletin board, photographed them from every angle and plastered the photos all over Facebook. Then I sat back, and thought, "what's next?" There were many races coming up in my region and I wanted to do them all! Pretty soon I was registered for 4 more races all taking place within 4 months of each other. Sounds like a tall order, but I felt invincible and felt confident I could take them all on.
And then it was year three. A year ago at this time I had already completed the first race of the year, with three to go. I still looked at the medals I had on my wall but kept thinking about the ones I didn't have yet. I trained and trained and racked up miles, but my mind was on all the races coming up. By this time last year I was fully entrenched in training for my first full marathon. I was stressed from the requirement of the training, but I kept thinking how my "collection" would finally be complete with a medal that had "Marathon" on it. I went to the starting line that day, and finished a distance of 26.2 miles. And just like the year before, I received a pretty ribbon with a pretty piece of metal on it. Over the next few months I ran all the races I'd signed up for, collected my bling, and had to find a new way to display the medals because they were too heavy for the cork board I'd been using. It was a wonderful feeling to see the "evidence" of all the hard work I'd done. And yet the funny thing was, that no matter how great an achievement it was, I was totally burned out.
I started to think about the races I'd run. I had achieved a PR at nearly all of them, but I was still falling short of my ultimate goals. How could that be with all the running I was doing? I realized that I had been focused so much on racing that I hadn't had time for proper training. That is, a set routine of different routes and speeds, over a long period of time. Each race required a lot of effort and time in and of itself, as well as weeks of resting during tapering before and recovery after each race. I wasn't giving myself enough time in between to regroup and spend time focusing on just getting in the miles. I had a wall full of bling but was still short of the rewards I really wanted. So I took some time off from races and went back to running just for the sake of running.
5 months and a vacation in Hawaii passed before my next race. I spent that time running a regular routine which included runs of distances between 4 and 10 miles 2-4 times during the week, with long runs on Saturdays of 14-18 miles. I racked up miles and without upcoming races on my mind I found myself focusing on each run, to seeing what I could pull off on my own, without official timers and bling at the end. In October I ran my seventh half marathon race and finally pulled off a significant time goal that I'd been reaching for since the first race of the year: to run that distance in less than 2 1/2 hours. I did that, and 4 minutes under my goal, I was super excited with those results. As I added my new medal to the collection, I didn't really think about it, I was more excited about my time. I didn't run another race after that in 2013, though there were many that I would have loved to have run, timing and finances weren't right for it, so I just enjoyed being out there and getting in the miles.
That's not to say I'm giving up on the thrill of racing. I love racing, even though there's not a chance I'll ever win one of the silly things. It's basically the environment involved. Sure, I can go run for free any day of the week in lots of scenic places and share smiles with people in similar silly outfits like mine. But race day is like prom for runners. You go get your outfit (packet), you dress up, prepare yourself, and show up whether you have a date or not because you know it's going to be an event to remember. Everyone at a race has the same goal, whether they are in the first corral or the last corral. To finish the distance in the best possible time, and to share the same experience with hundreds or even thousands of others as crazy as them. There are smiles and high fives and bonding between complete strangers because we all know what it took to get to that starting line, and what it will take to finish. I've received compliments and encouragement countless times in races from people I've never met, and even made a new running BFF at one race, after striking up a conversation in the most random of circumstances.
As year 4 of my journey begins, I am back in race prep mode. I just ran my first half marathon of the year, and next up will be full marathon #2 in March. Another half marathon will be in April. After that, who knows? I already have "must have" races planned for the next year and a half, but I no longer have the desire to register for every single race I see advertised. I have specific goals to meet for each race, and specific training routines I set to meet those goals. As I go through my training, I can laugh at myself that I get so excited about getting a medal for running 13.1 miles, when I reasonably easily complete distances much further than that on a regular basis, with no medals or t-shirts to show for it. I still have my trusty GPS app, and have just upgraded to my first GPS tracking watch, which supposedly will provide even more accurate results to guide me in tracking my training progress.
As I look back on the last three years, as I previously mentioned, I am in awe of the progress I've made. I laugh at myself because regardless of the changes I've made on the outside, my addictive personality is still firmly intact. It's just that the addictions have changed. Whereas I once previously was addicted to collecting things that kept me sitting around in the house (I don't want to think how much I spent on DVD's in those days), now I'm addicted to things that contribute to my personal well being and health. Yeah, maybe collecting all those race medals might seem silly to non-runners, but for me they will always represent the difference between the old me and the new me. My goal now is simply to scale the addiction back enough that I can enjoy the rewards without wearing myself and my bank account out getting them. Those registration fees ain't cheap...
Anyway, I'm still learning balance, it's taking time for sure, but I'm closer to reaching it than ever before.
And now here's a photo of my race bling so far. You didn't think I'd write all this nonsense and not show you the bling! This is every piece of race bling I've collected since I've begun running races. These medals include 3 5k's, a virtual half marathon, 8 half marathon races, the Beach Cities Challenge medal, and 1 full marathon. And counting...
As usual, thank you for reading my brain droppings. I appreciate any comments (nice ones anyway, LOL), and feel free to share if you think your friends could stand me.
Until next time....
-MaryAnne
As usual, what I have on my mind right now is running. I suppose this topic might be worn out by now, but I hope my 12 faithful readers can bear with me as I throw out more musings regarding this crazy activity that I love. So here goes.
As I enter this year I am looking back at the progression of the last three years of my life. The first year of what I often refer to as my fitness journey was the beginner year. I made the most significant progress in that first year, I went from a couch potato to an active person. I did participate in a few small road races, each time as part of a group from work, but mostly I just got out there and walked, hour after hour, 3-4 days a week. I didn't track mileage at that time because I was just doing it to lose weight. Then a funny thing happened. I got an Android smart phone, and was futzing with it one day and discovered a GPS app that was designed to track mileage. I was completely unaware that such a thing existed, let alone that I should use one. But being curious, I entered my info, went out for a walk, pushed the start button on the thing, and from that day on I never looked back.
For the first time, other than the races I had done, I had an idea of how far I was actually going each time I got out there. Those numbers really excited me, seeing that little glowing screen with a real number on it lit a fire under me. Soon I was tracking every walk, and as I progressed from walking to running, I set goals to increase mileage and began to really feel amazed at the numbers I saw. It pushed me forward to keep going, to see how much farther I could go and how fast I could do it. At that point I began to think that more difficult race distances were within my reach. I kept at it, getting in the miles and continuing to re-evaluate the idea of what was possible for me to accomplish.
As I entered year two of my journey, I was preparing for the longest distance I'd ever done: a half marathon. I had finished my first 10k race in November, walking most of the way, and I'd been so proud that I could run the entire last mile of the race. Now I began to run more and walk less, and as I added miles to my runs, my faithful GPS friend cheered me on every mile, telling me how fast I'd gone and how far. By the end of January I completed my first 12 miler, then a few short weeks later I finished the half marathon. I ran a lot of it, walked about 1/3 of the total distance of the race, and I finished more than 20 minutes faster than I thought I could. It was an amazing feeling, I felt like I had joined some exclusive club that I had always thought only belonged to the super fit and super crazy. As I crossed the finish line, a complete stranger handed me a ribbon with a little piece of metal on it. It had the race logo, the distance and the date on it. And it was mine. My first half marathon race medal.
Though I had previously done several short races, I'd only gotten one medal up until then. It was in the shape of the Bubba Gump shrimp because they had sponsored the race. Pure product placement. I hadn't thought much of it, but now as I hung medal number two on my bulletin board I could see a pattern forming. I thought that they looked kind of lonely, just the two of them there. And that's when it happened. I started to become addicted to racing and collecting race bling. I immediately signed up for two more half marathons at that point, because I was fired up from the first one, but specifically because the combination of those particular races netted the finisher an extra medal for finishing the "challenge" of completing all three races. I ran the second half marathon a few months after the first, running the entire thing without walking. I ran the third half marathon 5 months after that, with a time half an hour faster than the first one I had done. That was an awesome achievement for me, but I remember the most exciting part for me was going to the tent to pick up my challenge medal after receiving my race medal at the finish line. I walked around that day with not one, but two big hunks of metal around my neck. They were heavy and clanked together obnoxiously, but I loved it. I went home and added them to my bulletin board, photographed them from every angle and plastered the photos all over Facebook. Then I sat back, and thought, "what's next?" There were many races coming up in my region and I wanted to do them all! Pretty soon I was registered for 4 more races all taking place within 4 months of each other. Sounds like a tall order, but I felt invincible and felt confident I could take them all on.
And then it was year three. A year ago at this time I had already completed the first race of the year, with three to go. I still looked at the medals I had on my wall but kept thinking about the ones I didn't have yet. I trained and trained and racked up miles, but my mind was on all the races coming up. By this time last year I was fully entrenched in training for my first full marathon. I was stressed from the requirement of the training, but I kept thinking how my "collection" would finally be complete with a medal that had "Marathon" on it. I went to the starting line that day, and finished a distance of 26.2 miles. And just like the year before, I received a pretty ribbon with a pretty piece of metal on it. Over the next few months I ran all the races I'd signed up for, collected my bling, and had to find a new way to display the medals because they were too heavy for the cork board I'd been using. It was a wonderful feeling to see the "evidence" of all the hard work I'd done. And yet the funny thing was, that no matter how great an achievement it was, I was totally burned out.
I started to think about the races I'd run. I had achieved a PR at nearly all of them, but I was still falling short of my ultimate goals. How could that be with all the running I was doing? I realized that I had been focused so much on racing that I hadn't had time for proper training. That is, a set routine of different routes and speeds, over a long period of time. Each race required a lot of effort and time in and of itself, as well as weeks of resting during tapering before and recovery after each race. I wasn't giving myself enough time in between to regroup and spend time focusing on just getting in the miles. I had a wall full of bling but was still short of the rewards I really wanted. So I took some time off from races and went back to running just for the sake of running.
5 months and a vacation in Hawaii passed before my next race. I spent that time running a regular routine which included runs of distances between 4 and 10 miles 2-4 times during the week, with long runs on Saturdays of 14-18 miles. I racked up miles and without upcoming races on my mind I found myself focusing on each run, to seeing what I could pull off on my own, without official timers and bling at the end. In October I ran my seventh half marathon race and finally pulled off a significant time goal that I'd been reaching for since the first race of the year: to run that distance in less than 2 1/2 hours. I did that, and 4 minutes under my goal, I was super excited with those results. As I added my new medal to the collection, I didn't really think about it, I was more excited about my time. I didn't run another race after that in 2013, though there were many that I would have loved to have run, timing and finances weren't right for it, so I just enjoyed being out there and getting in the miles.
That's not to say I'm giving up on the thrill of racing. I love racing, even though there's not a chance I'll ever win one of the silly things. It's basically the environment involved. Sure, I can go run for free any day of the week in lots of scenic places and share smiles with people in similar silly outfits like mine. But race day is like prom for runners. You go get your outfit (packet), you dress up, prepare yourself, and show up whether you have a date or not because you know it's going to be an event to remember. Everyone at a race has the same goal, whether they are in the first corral or the last corral. To finish the distance in the best possible time, and to share the same experience with hundreds or even thousands of others as crazy as them. There are smiles and high fives and bonding between complete strangers because we all know what it took to get to that starting line, and what it will take to finish. I've received compliments and encouragement countless times in races from people I've never met, and even made a new running BFF at one race, after striking up a conversation in the most random of circumstances.
As year 4 of my journey begins, I am back in race prep mode. I just ran my first half marathon of the year, and next up will be full marathon #2 in March. Another half marathon will be in April. After that, who knows? I already have "must have" races planned for the next year and a half, but I no longer have the desire to register for every single race I see advertised. I have specific goals to meet for each race, and specific training routines I set to meet those goals. As I go through my training, I can laugh at myself that I get so excited about getting a medal for running 13.1 miles, when I reasonably easily complete distances much further than that on a regular basis, with no medals or t-shirts to show for it. I still have my trusty GPS app, and have just upgraded to my first GPS tracking watch, which supposedly will provide even more accurate results to guide me in tracking my training progress.
As I look back on the last three years, as I previously mentioned, I am in awe of the progress I've made. I laugh at myself because regardless of the changes I've made on the outside, my addictive personality is still firmly intact. It's just that the addictions have changed. Whereas I once previously was addicted to collecting things that kept me sitting around in the house (I don't want to think how much I spent on DVD's in those days), now I'm addicted to things that contribute to my personal well being and health. Yeah, maybe collecting all those race medals might seem silly to non-runners, but for me they will always represent the difference between the old me and the new me. My goal now is simply to scale the addiction back enough that I can enjoy the rewards without wearing myself and my bank account out getting them. Those registration fees ain't cheap...
Anyway, I'm still learning balance, it's taking time for sure, but I'm closer to reaching it than ever before.
And now here's a photo of my race bling so far. You didn't think I'd write all this nonsense and not show you the bling! This is every piece of race bling I've collected since I've begun running races. These medals include 3 5k's, a virtual half marathon, 8 half marathon races, the Beach Cities Challenge medal, and 1 full marathon. And counting...
As usual, thank you for reading my brain droppings. I appreciate any comments (nice ones anyway, LOL), and feel free to share if you think your friends could stand me.
Until next time....
-MaryAnne
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