The Green Eyed Medal Envy Monster

Hello readers! Thank you for joining me here for the latest collection of stuff that came out of my brain. Let's get on with it now. For those of you who read anything I write, you have seen that  many if not most of the posts I write have to do with running. In fact, I post frequently about the experiences I have that involve running using different media outlets, and while I do use this blog for that purpose, it's been less and less because I have a tendency to get caught up in writing and make it way too long. Those who have seen my multi-paragraph Facebook and Instagram posts know what I'm talking about. That's why I don't tweet. 160 character posts are not in my capability. It's hard for me to put things in just a few words when I have so many words in my brain. But I'm thankful for those who put up with my verbosity and actually read all the stuff I write, it's just nice to know someone is paying attention. Thank you for your support.

Today's post has to do with my racing hobby. By now everyone knows I run in races from time to time. though I don't consider them to be a serious pursuit for myself because I'm not in any way, shape or form ever going to win one of those things. I doubt I'll even ever place in a race unless I run in really really small race and I'm only one of three in my age group. But I do enjoy the experience of running races very much, as I have touched on in some of my previous posts. There's the fun of being in a group of people with similar interests and goals, and then the goodies, giveaways, and of course, the medals, or rather, "race bling". There's nothing like having a shiny new medal on a colorful ribbon placed around your neck, wearing it the whole day and going to out eat at some restaurant where the calorie counts are higher than the mileage on you car, and laughing, "hey, here's the proof I earned this lunch!", then at the end of the day adding it to your collection, figuring out where to place it so that the arrangement is just perfect. So if I love it so much, why is it that lately I don't run in more races? Those of you who know me know that I'm getting in the miles. If I'm gonna run and I love the bling, I might as well run for bling, right? And therein lies the dig.

For those who have done at least one race, you know the reality of it is that those things are freaking expensive. It doesn't matter if you have a discount code, each one is going to set you back anywhere from 30 to beyond 200 bucks a pop, depending on the race. And that doesn't figure in the cost of gas, lodging (if it's a destination race), parking fees for both the race and packet pickup, and other various things that pop up. Not many runners can get through a race expo without shelling out money in addition to all the other costs for at least one new piece of fancy new or trendy gear, or a t-shirt with a snarky saying, or a box of Gu or Shot Bloks. There's a saying that running is cheaper than therapy, and despite the cost of running shoes and truly necessary gear, that may be true of just running itself. But once you add racing to the equation, it's by far a long way from the truth.

The first year or so that I ran, I signed up for the races that my running friends had signed up for as well. It was fun to be part of a crowd, and I enjoyed the get-togethers and post race photos, and general camaraderie of the activity. As I got further along in this pursuit and I began to accumulate a few race finisher medals, gradually I found myself signing up for races not because my friends were doing it, but because I wanted to get more of that bling. I didn't run races unless there was bling, and I signed up for races that had interesting bling, or extra bling, such as challenges. A challenge is when race organizers offer an extra medal to those who finish a specific combination of races. The first three half marathons I ever ran were part of a challenge, and I specifically ran those races so I could get that fourth piece of bling in addition to the one medal earned for each individual race. It developed into a bit of an obsession as time went on, and I didn't really think about the cost, I just got out my wallet every time I saw a race I wanted and went for it. To me, it was worth it because I had found something that I told myself was improving my life and fitness, and that it balanced out the cost of what I was paying.

Now, if I were a person with few financial obligations and a greater income base, this logic would make sense. Why not pay money for an activity and pursuit you enjoy if there is a positive result and there are no repercussions? There's nothing wrong with that. But the issue for me is that I had many years of bad financial choices that already stacked up mountains of debt by the time I began racing, and it was yet another money-sucking hobby adding to the pile. My piles of medals stacked up, and so did the credit card debt. This is pure honesty, guys. For most of my life I've been terrible with money, and my income has never matched the level of intensity of my addictive personality. I've gone from one expensive "hobby" or obsession to the next, and racing is only one of many expensive interests I've gotten into through the years. I get an interest, then collect this or that or the other thing, paying with plastic and putting the burden of debt out of my mind with mental blinders each time. It's only been in the past couple of years that my eyes have been opened to the weight of this character flaw of mine, how it has affected me and my family especially.

So now I am at the point where I have decided I have to let racing and other personal interests take a back seat to my financial obligations. It's been good for me since the beginning of this year, I am making a lot of headway with my financial maturity and for the first time in a long time our debts are actually shrinking overall rather than growing or staying on a plateau for extended periods of time. In my relationship with my husband, who is of course also our family's co-provider, I have been given a bit of a leash with allowance for personal spending, and I know it's for my own good even when I find myself at the end of it, and find myself just out of reach of where I think I want to be. So where does that leave me in regards to running? In a good place, though with boundaries that perhaps are taking a bit of getting used to for me. Gone are the days of the first two years that I ran, with me signing up for this or that race at a moment's notice. I have to delete lots of emails I'd love to open, knowing that each one will be a torment for me when I see how much fun I'm missing out on. Even my Facebook wall is annoying with the ads. They know me. Costume Party Run! 80's Run! Color Run! I scroll as fast as I can, but they catch up with me no matter how fast I go. It's painful sometimes, but cutting back on racing has helped our financial situation for sure, and I enjoy getting my bills and seeing the numbers slowly, slowly shrinking down one month at a time.

As good as it feels to make progress in this arena of my life, there is one unfortunate side effect, that has been the creation in me of what I think of as a great big green-eyed race day medal envy monster. In the most common usage, the green eyed monster refers to envy over money. But being as how I have green eyes, I find the description to be apt for this alter ego of mine. This is the person that I have started to see appear nearly every weekend as I scroll through the walls of my various social media outlets and see the happy race day photos that many of my FB and IG running friends from all over the country and even the world are posting. They smile as they wave their shiny new bling and hug each other in victorious group photos, and I scroll past, gnashing my teeth and wishing I was there with them. I look up at my medal collection on the wall of my bedroom, for a time unable to see that I have so many medals already and have accomplished amazing things to get them, instead seeing empty spaces that would be a perfect fit for this or that race medal that my friends have gotten. But that's insane. I have run many more races and have a lot more race medals than most people I know, and I seriously doubt any of them get all bent out of shape when I post race day photos of my new bling. In fact, they generally encourage me and tell me they are inspired by my accomplishments.

My entire medal collection, from the 2011 Bubba Gump 5k
to this year's Hollywood Half and Best of LA Challenge last April.
Not too shabby!

So, this envoius attitude is a part of me that I have to nip in the bud. It sucks. I have keep reminding myself that it's not as though I will never race again. In fact, I am currently registered for two races in the upcoming months. One of them I was given free of charge in a wonderful turn of events, the other I registered for many months ago at a very steep discount. I have them to look forward to and think about and train for. But I get stuck thinking about this or that race that I won't be able to do instead of the ones that I will get to do. And part of me subconsciously actually feels inferior to other people when they run a race the same day I run a training run, as though my run down the beach bike path didn't count because it wasn't organized by some company and I didn't get a t-shirt for doing it. Sometimes when I'm doing training runs and I end up running along with some race that's using the same route where I run, I'm temped to find the registration tent and pay the fee so I can collect the shirt and bling since I ran the miles. But that would be crazy. Or would it? The truth is, if I had the money to pay, and same day registration was allowed, I would do it. I have no shame in admitting that. It's in my blood, I tell ya.

So at this point, I'm working on vanquishing the big ugly medal envy monster. The cure for it is simple, really. I need to remember that my life choices got me to where I am now, and perhaps if I had made better financial choices in the past, then I could afford to run races every weekend and have a pile of medals so big that I could swim through them like Scrooge McDuck in his vat of money. Don't think I'm kidding. I'd totally do it. But since I can't I can only do this. When I see those race posts in my feed, I'm gonna hit the like button and mean it. I'm gonna cheer my awesome running friends on because they are tough, determined and strong, and if they have cute outfits and their bling is awesome and they get PR's I'll annoy them with cheerful comments. In doing this, I vow that I will no longer allow someone else's joyful moment to be a catalyst for my own personal pity party.

It's gonna be long road for me to get out of my financial situation, but I can already see that there is light at the end of that tunnel. And who knows if by the time I get there I will still be obsessed with accumulating shiny bling, or if a new interest will have taken hold. I tend to go from personal fad to personal fad, and though I don't see myself stopping running or racing altogether, knowing my history, I can easily see myself finding new activities to enjoy in addition to it, and I may eventually reduce training for and running races as I spend more time pursuing the next interest that I find. But no matter what I end up doing, the most important thing to remember is that my legacy is going to be measured in neither mementos or miles. It will be only measured in the impact I have in the lives of those I am associated with, who know me personally or virtually, who read my posts and see my pictures and hear my voice and see my face. Did I lift people up or bring them down? I love my medals and enjoy seeing them on my wall, but in the end they won't matter, neither will my PR's or total miles run or how many pairs of Brooks and Adidas I wore out. I've gotta focus on the best that has come out in my running these past years, and that is hearing people say they are inspired by me and that they are trying to improve their own lives because they saw the positive things that I was able to in mine.

So to all my running friends, keep racing! To all those who want to get into racing, go for it! Post your awesome race status updates and pics, and I'll be your personal cheering squad from my smart phone. Unless you are running the same race as me. In that case, when the starting line comes up, you will have to watch my backside disappear into the crowd. Because there will be bling waiting for me at the finish line, and I won't be waiting around to cheer for anyone until it's in my hot little hand. What can I say, I gotta be me. Happy running to all!

Congratulations on making it to the end of one of my posts! You should get a medal for that alone. I've got an ugly Bubba Gump Shrimp 5k medal that's at the back of my pile. Send me your address and I'll put it in the mail, stat. First come, first serve. On second thought, never mind that. A medal is a medal, and if I give them away, I'll never have enough to swim through! But if you are interested in starting a collection of your own, let me know. I've got lots of race emails I can forward to you.
Until next time,
-MaryAnne

Over The Mountain, Not Over The Hill

So this is my first blog post after my 40th birthday. Woo hoo! A year ago at this time, I posted about celebrating my 39th birthday by climbing Mt. San Antonio, aka "Mt. Baldy", and wrote about how amazing it felt to be doing things at that age that I couldn't even do in my younger years. This year my birthday celebration took a completely different course. Instead of putting on boots and stomping through the woods, I celebrated on my birthday by putting on a ball gown and sharing the night with a lot of people near and dear to my heart. I loved stepping out of my usual routine, and enjoyed being "queen for a night", it was really more than I could have dreamed for a birthday celebration. But that night couldn't last forever, so after my moment in the spotlight, as it were, I have resumed being a "plain jane", a persona that suits me for the most part, and is indeed more suitable for most of the activities that I devote my time and energy pursuing in general, especially for the aforementioned stomping through the woods.

As much as I enjoyed a change of pace for my birthday night, all things considered, it stands to reason that I'd spend at least one day of my birthday week hiking somewhere, as that is one of my first loves. So 4 days after my 40th, I laced up my boots and headed out on a hike via the Sturtevant Trail to the summit of Mt. Wilson. This hike was not a particularly special or exciting or even a new route, but it was a personal one, beginning when I hiked the same trail to the top of Mt. Wilson in November of 2012. That experience had started out well but ended on a bad note when a bank of fog settled on the mountain top and cut off all visability, and I literally had to hitch a ride from the summit back to my car. After that experience, I was determined to complete the full hike I had originally set out to do, and I did that last year in April, returning to the mountain and finally completing the entire 13 mile loop.

But the experience was still lacking. I still hadn't gotten the full experience out of it that I should have. The result from the April 2013 Mt. Wilson hike and also my Mt. Baldy birthday hike last June was a great deal of pain and a lot of recovery time afterward. It didn't seem to me that it should be like that. So, since then, I had been determined to get back and have another go at Mt. Wilson. However, the reality of life is that it is difficult for a person with family responsibility, a full time job, involvement in ministry activities, and oh, yeah, that marathon training thing, to find and set aside an entire day for a personal activity like a 13 mile hike. 13 miles of running on a flat route is about a 2 1/2 hour chunk of time for me, leaving plenty of time for other stuff the same day I do it. But 13 miles on narrow, rocky trails with about 4,000 feet of elevation gain and loss is an entire day's commitment of time for me. So I had to bide my time, and it just happened that my birthday week this year was the opportunity that finally opened for me to have a day to go and take one more crack at Mt. Wilson.

Having been at this hiking thing for a few years now, I've pretty much already got all the gear and stuff I figure I need to take with me any time I decide to go for a day out on the trails. For the most part, other than food and water, that is just items to prevent or aid in the the instance of injury or getting lost. If you go to the "outdoor section" of your local sports store or WalMart, you'll find these products. I tend to stick to the basic items, and avoid "creature comforts", but I did decide to add one new tool to my arsenal: trekking poles. I have never really thought it necessary to have them, but after seeing a lot of other hikers using them on my recent trips out on the trails, I figured "what the hey", I'll give 'em a shot. So the day before my trip I picked up a pair at WalMart as I stocked up on beef jerky and granola bars. I also picked up some bug repellent wipes. The package proclaimed in big letters "30% Deet!", so I dubbed them Deet Sheets, and into the pack they went. Now fully equipped, I was ready to go.

The day of my hike was the kids last day of school. I took the day off from work and after they were off to school, I headed across the valley to begin my hike. I got into Chantry Flats at about 10AM, and pulled in right as someone else was just leaving. That's a mini miracle in and of itself, because it's a popular spot, and finding a parking space out there is a little like winning the lottery. I've had to park down the road a couple times, which is risky because in some places it's posted "no parking". Despite this, people always park there and ignore the signs, but I always try to get a "real" parking space because I'd hate to return from a day on the trails to find that was the day that the Forest Service decided to go all official and tow everyone in the "no parking" zone.

Tiger Lily Flower

I headed down the paved road from the parking lot, getting to the trail at the bottom of the valley around 10:30AM. As I reached the bottom, the trees closed in overhead and a nice cool settled in. I started using the trekking poles where the trail begins in the canyon. At first, I felt dorky and couldn't figure out what I supposed to be doing with them. But after a short while I figured out they are very helpful for navigating rocky trails. I tend to stumble from time to time while hiking, tripping over my own feet as often as I trip on rocks in the trail. I don't really admit to that, but I've fallen a few times out on the trails. That's the main reason I don't trail run. Because I'm a klutz. So, in regular fashion, I did trip on rocks a couple times that day, but each time the poles saved me from biting the dirt. I made a mental note. Trekking poles for hiking: good. Dorky, but good.

Monkey Flowers

I made the four mile mark by 12:30PM. There is a backpacker's campground there called Spruce Grove. It has tables, fire cook stoves and the worst pit toilets on the planet. I think they are cleaned and emptied like once a year, if that, which means, most of the time they are unusable. I always stop at the campground on my hikes, eat lunch at one of the tables and attempt to use the, ahem, so called "facilities" before continuing on my way. On occasion, the necessity to find an alternative arises, but after so many years in Girl Scouts I am familiar with which types of bushes are friendly and which are not. I've found it's a good skill to have, as you never know when it will come in handy.


Continuing on the trail past Spruce Grove, there is a trail junction. The Gabrielino trail that you came up on goes to the right, and the Sturtevant Trail begins, going left toward the summit of Mt. Wilson. This is the beginning of a 3 mile stretch that is the steepest, most difficult section of the trail in the entire round trip hike. First, the trail goes straight for about a mile. You can look back during this section and see a long stretch of trail behind you, and you find yourself seeing how steep it is and thinking, "holy smokes, I did THAT?" Thankfully, the trail looks a lot steeper looking back down it than up at it. Otherwise I think a lot fewer would make it up there than do now! So, about halfway up, mosquitos and deer flies and gnats decided that I was a snacky treat and began closing in. Apparently June is prime deer fly season. Yay nature. I wiped myself with the Deet Sheets and that took care of that. They still buzzed around, but kept their distance from my Deet-ey odor. I don't even know what Deet is, but if it stinks bad enough to keep the blood sucking bugs away, it's fine in my book.

After the long stretch, the trail begins up the steepest slope of the mountain, and goes into switchbacks that zig-zag back and forth across the side of the mountain, as is typical for hiking trails where it is too steep to go straight up. This was where I started to lose it a bit. I had hoped to make the summit by 2PM, but when I reached the 1.5 mile marker to the summit, it was 1:56PM, and I calculated that it would take me at least an hour or more at the pace I was going to get to the top. I wasn't trying to beat any particular time, I save my PR goals for my runs. But what was on my mind was that the road out of Chantry Flats closes at 8PM, and I wanted to make sure I could be off the mountain early enough that I wouldn't have to spend the night in my car in the parking lot there. So as I started up that last 1.5 mile stretch, with a clock ticking in the back of my mind, I started to get irritated. I noticed every little annoying thing. There was no shade. The sun was too hot. The trail was narrow in spots. Logs had fallen across the trail in a couple places. Stupid people had cut the trail in places, making it difficult to navigate. Why I am doing this? It's not fun any more. I pity partied my way along for a mile or so, until I came around the corner just a short distance from the summit, looked out and saw...the view.

about 1/2 mile to the summit

Two miles of switchbacks can be a lot for any sane person, but at this point on the trail you are up higher than the peaks of the surrounding mountains, and you can see the entire stretch of the valley to the horizon. Even on a day with smog and bright sunshine, the view is really something. From some parts of the trail, you can see the cities below, and try to make out the shapes on the ground to figure out what is what. From other parts, you can see the surrounding mountains, the rise and fall of their ridges, the multiple layers extending for miles in the distance. Realizing I was near the top, I checked my watch at the point and was happy to see it was 10 minutes to 3PM. I was comfortable that I still had enough time to rest a little at the top before heading back, and not risk having to bunk overnight in the back of my Honda Pilot.





On the lower sections of trails I had seen many fellow hikers, but as I got higher, there were fewer brave souls. Most of the trip my companions were wildlife. There were a lot of birds and California gray squirrels, a whole lot of stink bugs for some reason, and many, many lizards. Close to the summit I saw a small rattlesnake making his way up the hillside. I took pictures, with my zoom lens, of course. None of my companions out there bothered me, except maybe some of the squirrels. They are kind of particular about their territory and tend to watch you closely as you pass. It's almost a bit disconcerting, but after many hikes on the upper and lower trails out there, I've learned that the squirrels may be a bit peculiar, but for the most part they will leave you alone, so long as you keep your hands off their nuts.

TV transmission towers

It was just after 3PM when I finally reached the top. The unique characteristic of this hike is that unlike most mountain hikes, this one has actual civilization as part of it. At the top of Mt. Wilson there is a large Observatory complex, with several telescopes and a little museum, which attracts visitors who arrive by driving up on a paved road. The folks who drive up look forward to exploring the observatory complex and seeing the view from the top of the mountain. While hikers such as myself also have the option to enjoy these things, the most meaningful thing to us is that there

Mt. Wilson Observatory
 60 inch telescope

is a bathroom up there on the summit with actual running water and flush toilets, and a place to refill water bottles with clean water. For most visitors to the Observatory, that's no big deal. But to hikers coming out of woods having spent much of the day with nothing to use in regard of restrooms but overflowing pit toilets and friendly bushes, these bathrooms are like coming into the lobby of a Ritz-Carlton. Every trip up there, I find myself in that bathroom washing my hands and thinking to myself, omigosh...water...and soap!

the best shot from several attempts
using cell phone self timer

After using the restroom, I snapped the obligatory photos: view from the summit, a couple of the telescopes, the Mt. Wilson marker, selfie in the parking lot, and so on. Then I headed to the Mt. Wilson trail, and began to descend back to Chantry Flats.

















One of the reasons I like this hike is because there is the option of doing a loop. That means, one way to get there, and a different way to get back. It means more scenery and different perspectives of the terrain. But I have always done this loop the same way, ascending via the Gabrielino Trail and the Sturtevant Trail and descending via the Mt. Wilson trail, and the Winter Creek trail. Maybe one of these days I'll switch it up and do the loop in reverse. But this time I followed the pattern I'd previously done twice, because I wanted to have the same conditions as previously, while trying for a different result.

Happy Trails...

The descent went well overall. I actually hike better going up than down because my toes bang against the inside of the boots on the way down, but this trip went well, so I enjoyed the hike down. Except maybe for the part where I sat on an ant hill. What I actually sat on was a tree root by the side of the trail. I had to stop several times during the hike to empty little bitty rocks out of my boots, so I figured the root would be a good enough place to take care of that piece of business. Apparently my resting spot was close enough to a nest of ants that my presence either alarmed or excited them, and they swarmed out and began to climb all over me. They weren't the scary red ants, just black ants, but that wasn't of much consolation when they began biting me. I was in the middle of emptying one shoe when I realized what was happening, they were all over my back so I pulled off my shirt in the middle of the trail, hopping up and down on one leg, shrieking and doing a frenzied arm waving jig out in front of God and everybody. It took about 10 minutes of slapping and flicking, but I got them off me and put my shirt back on. Stupid nature.

I reached the bottom of the steepest section, and came into another backpacker's campground along the bank of the creek. There was someone there in a hammock playing a harmonica off in the distance. It sounded almost a little haunting, but I figured I would be ok so long as I didn't hear any banjos. I sat down, had another lunch and wiped on some more Deet Sheets to get the mosquitos out of my ears again. At this point in the trip, I had two miles to go to get back to the parking lot. I checked my phone, it was 6PM. I still had two hours before the road closed, but I was starting to feel pressure again as the sun had long disappeared from the deep section of canyon I was in, and it was as dark as dusk. The last two miles of any hike pretty much suck anyway, just like the last two miles of any run. It's simply state of mind. You know you are ALMOST there, and you want to be there NOW. You are tired, you are getting cranky, and if it's dark, there's not much scenery to enjoy. And now, with that clock in my head ticking louder and louder, those last 2 miles were particularly irritating. After hiking for what seemed like forever, I started to psych myself out at every turn by thinking "the end of the trail MUST be around the next bend!". And then, it wasn't, I got all irritated, and so on. I kept up this fun routine until I finally reached the end of the Winter Creek Trail at 7PM.

The last section of this hike is the same paved road I came down at the beginning of the day. It's an incredibly steep 6/10 of a mile section of road, probably the last thing anyone wants to see after nearly 13 miles of hiking. But up I went, and got to the parking lot at 7:18PM, a full 42 minutes before the gate slammed shut. On my way to the car I passed several gleeful teenagers goofing around in the parking lot. As I got to the car, one young fellow climbed on the top of a building and began to belt out Beyonce's "Single Ladies" at the top of his lungs. I wondered if he knew he was standing on the roof of a pit toilet and what he was risking falling into should the roof of said pit toilet give way. I thought of taking a video, but that's pretty much when my phone battery died, so that little moment of history will only be able to live on in my memory, and not the internet for all to share. Lucky for him.

So what is the moral of this long detailed story? I have several, but they will need to wait for another post because I think this one is long enough. The one thing I will say is, being 40 is awesome, as least so far! I don't feel old and crotchety, which is what I had assumed would happen all throughout my younger years. Every time someone in my life would turn 40, everyone would make jokes about them being "over the hill", as though the best part of their lives had passed and it was all downhill from there. It wasn't until I began literally reversing my aging process by improving my health and fitness that I dared entertain the thought that 40 didn't have to be the end of "the good years", and that just the opposite, it was really at the beginning of the best years of my life. So my theme of my first days of being 40 is to counteract that old joke that's not really funny: being "over the hill". I have made sure that the personal activities in my life involve literal hills. My first run after my 40th birthday was up to the top of Signal Hill. My first hike after turning 40 was to the top of Mt. Wilson. And I'll continue doing this, not only for its own sake of being just plain awesome, but also as a statement that the hill is only in our minds. You see, if we go with the joke and give in and give up on the later years of our lives, then we lose out. But if we accept that we still have the possibility in us to climb mountains and do other amazing things no matter what the calendar says, then we are truly living the life we were intended to live. And that gives me so much to look forward to for the years ahead to come!

As usual, I would like to thank you for reading this far. I hope you enjoyed my post, please repost to your FB and share with your friends if you think I'm cool.
Thanks again! Until next time,
-MaryAnne

What Have I Gotten Myself Into...Again?

Today's blog post is another of my usual musings about my fitness journey, specifically running and racing. I suppose they might all start to sound the same to everyone, but I always have a lot of stuff in my brain, so I write it down and hope the people that read it get something out of it, even if they aren't runners. I love writing this and so here's the latest entry into my online journal of my life adventures.

A year and a half ago, I wrote about anticipating my first marathon. In that post I went over the fears and hopes I had, and my anticipation of that moment in my life. Not long after, I went on and met that goal. Those of you who know me in real life or who have followed me/friended me on my various social media outlets in the last year or so know that for the past year I have been gearing up to do another one. I suppose I have been pretty open about why it's important to me, but I want to revisit that in case any of my 12 faithful readers of this blog missed it the first time around.

I have been at this running thing for about 3 years now. It all started, of course, with my desire to lose weight and improve my fitness. During the first year of that journey, I made so much progress that my eyes were opened to the possibility of seeing that things that once seemed impossible to be possible for me. During that first year I set and achieved many personal fitness goals, and have continued doing so since then. Along the way of losing a third of my body weight, I went from walking 5k's and 10k's to eventually running those same distances, and beyond. I finished my first half marathon two years ago, and progressed from that to the full marathon a year later.

For the first few days after I finished that race, I was on such a high. I had finished a marathon! I had the medal, the shirt, the pictures, and the sore muscles to prove it! It was one of the most amazing feelings of my life. To be honest, that feeling has not faded since that day, even up until now, more than a year later.  But in the weeks that followed that finish, I mentally evaluated everything I'd gone through, from my training and my race day prep, to the race itself. I had known as soon as I crossed that finish line that I wanted to do it again, so as I recovered and got back in my routine, I began putting together a new training plan and setting my sights on the next marathon goal.

That was a year ago. Over the past year I have made a lot of progress in my training, and set and acheived a lot of goals. I gave myself a year to train for a marathon on purpose, in order to have time to get as many good quality training runs in while regular life went on. There were times when I missed or had to modify a planned training run or two, even a couple months went by when from week to week I wasn't meeting all my goals because real life has a funny way of interfering with training plans. I have a lot of things I'm committed to, and as much as I love running, it falls somewhere down around number 4 or 5 in life priorities, behind things like my family, my job, my ministry commitments, and such. But if I have learned anything from doing long runs that take three or four hours to complete, it is patience. Lots and lots of patience. So while the "one year marathon training plan" is not one you'd find on any of the big name running websites if you Googled the term "marathon training", it worked like a charm for me. I met every single one of my training goals. If I missed a run one day, I retooled the next week's schedule until I met the goal I'd set. Then I moved to the next goal. I did long, slow endurance runs. I did short speedy runs. I ran up and down hills. I met distance goals, and pace goals. I did everything that you would see in one of those 17 week training plans, but it took me a year to do it. It may have taken longer than most, but I'm completely satisfied that the training I've completed will accomplish the purpose I had for it.

So as of right now, I am 9 days out from marathon #2. I'm super excited this time around. The first marathon I did kind of terrified me. Before that race, the furthest distance I'd ever covered was a 20 miler, and I'd only done it once. Now, that is of course nothing to sneeze at. But to add 6.2 miles to that is asking a lot of a body. I had a lot of fears that I wouldn't finish, or that I would finish so late that they would have already reopened the streets, run out of medals, and such. I was satisfied when I finished my race in 6 hours and 27 minutes, three whole minutes faster than my goal of 6 hours 30 min. I got a medal, and the right to put a sticker on the back of my car that says "26.2". I didn't care that I came in nearly dead last, only that I had come in.

So this time around, I have a similar goal. Of course the main priority will be to cross that finish line in Santa Monica. But I would sure love to see some major improvements over my previous marathon race. Now, I am running a different course than the first time around. There are some hills on this one that were not on the first one I ran. But I feel that the training I've completed has set me up to improve my time drastically, even with the addition of hills. I will be happy to finish with a time under 6 hours, but I'm shooting for an average pace of 13 minutes per mile, so my "official" goal will be a finish time around 5 hours, 40 minutes. This will probably be pushing it, as my last long run was a 22 miler on flats and I finished with a pace of 13:05 per mile. But if I prepare for the race correctly (nutrition, carb loading, tapering), I think I can meet that goal, or at least come close. And again, no matter what, finishing a marathon is an awesome accomplishment, no matter what time I end up with.

I am so blessed to have the support of a lot of people in my life who keep encouraging me to do what I do. I know that running doesn't really serve any practical purpose in life, on the contrary it just makes my leg muscles look funny and give me awesome tan lines on my arms where I wear my armband and GPS watch. I no longer do it to lose weight, and if I stopped running I wouldn't gain weight again, because the bad eating habits I've conquered are what prevent me from packing on the pounds. In fact if anything, running has made it more difficult to keep weight off, because the mileage I cover makes me hungry. REALLY hungry. But the people in my life understand that running has helped me in other areas of my life, that are perhaps not visible to the eye, but perceived on an emotional and spiritual level. I know that when I get to the starting line in 9 days, I may not have a cheering squad on the sidelines holding posters with silly sayings for me, but I have a huge contingent of folks cheering me on through various connections, whether it's my FB and IG friends, my family and friends in the flesh, or a combination of both. I'm so thankful for all that love and support, and it means a lot to me to have so many wonderful people at my back. The next 9 days are going to fly by, so keep the well wishes coming, because come March 9, I'm gonna need all that I can get!

Thank you again for reading! Until Next time...
-MaryAnne

Braggedy Brag, Brag, Brag.

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

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

Viva La "Pushing 40"

So last Saturday I turned 39. Which means that, as of right now, I'm less than one year from turning the BIG 4-0. I suppose I should be all bummed and stuff about it, that I'm going over the hill and all, but somehow I just can't. Because right now I feel better than I ever have in my entire life. I keep thinking about all the things I am capable of doing right now, at this ripe old age, and rather than being down about the onward march of time, I am excited every day to see what is going to happen next. You see, going back through the years, I can see that there is not a single time in my life when I was ever capable of doing the things I am doing now. Ever. Not in my 20's. Not in my teens. Not even in childhood. And at any point in my life up until about 2 1/2 years ago, if you had told me what I would be capable of doing at the age of 39, I would have told you that you were nuts. Because I could never have imagined it would be possible.

I was a skinny kid until I was about 11. I was somewhat active, but kept most of my activities to kids stuff, not physically challenging activities. I was not athletic-minded and didn't much like PE class. I never matched up to my classmates in skills, speed and athletic ability. I sucked at jumping rope, I wasn't flexible, and couldn't climb that stupid rope in the middle of the gym. And I failed ski school, which is basically a badge of shame for a kid growing up in the land of future Winter Olympic hopefuls. By the time I was in my pre-teens, my eating habits caught up with my lack of physical activity, and I started to pack on the pounds. In Jr. High and High School, PE class was even more challenging than elementary school, but despite my being less than athletic, it wasn't so bad. I enjoyed many sports and games, played on the school's softball team for 3 seasons, and even went for a few rounds of Powder Puff football. Though that was more stupid than sport.

In fact, there was only one athletic activity that I really hated: running. In the other activities in PE class I could almost match up to some of the kids in the class in ability, but running pretty much showed me where I really stood in the scheme of things. Dead last. We would go out in the woods to run, and at first I could keep up with the pack, but soon they all left me behind. By the time I would drag my butt to the end of the course, the other kids had already gone back to the locker room. I hated being tired and feeling worn out, but even more than that I hated going back to that locker room and facing the other kids. I can't recall anyone ever picking on me about my slow running, but just that they knew how sucky I was was humiliating enough for me.

Then I got bronchitis. It was my junior year of high school. After I recovered, I discovered that I was having trouble breathing on occasion. My doctor diagnosed me with asthma, specifically asthma triggered by strenuous physical activity. I should have been bummed, but it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. Because the doctor told me I didn't have to run in PE class any more. I took a note to my PE teacher and every time the class went running, I would either walk the short course, or just sit on my butt on the bleachers while they all trotted through the woods. And that suited me just fine.

There was one challenging physical activitiy I really did enjoy in my younger years, which was hiking. My dad would take us out in the woods and we'd explore beautiful forests, with streams and lakes and treasures hidden from the world that only the brave and persistent could find. I loved those hiking trips as a kid, but as I got older and heavier, they got more and more difficult. I'll never forget the day we climbed Mt. Rose. I was about 11 or 12 when we did that hike. It was the whole family out there that day. I don't remember where the trailhead was in those days, but I think it was about the same distance round trip as it is now from the highway summit trailhead, about 10 miles, with 2000 feet of elevation gain.  Up until then I'd been ok on hikes, but this one kicked my butt. I had to rest a lot, and the last climb to the summit nearly got to me. I was sitting on a rock resting, and a stranger on his way down remarked, "Hey there! You should get going, your family is waiting up there for you! Your dad made it. Your mom made it. Your brother made it. Heck, even the dog made it!"  So I got off my butt and made it to the summit. I don't remember much about what happened after that, just that it was hard and I was glad it when was over.

I did a few more hikes after that, but eventually it just got too hard. The last one I remember was hiking to Velma Lakes with my brother Mike and cousin Eric just after I graduated high school. I think it was only 3 or 4 miles to the lake, but I barely made it there. It was uphill most of the way and despite how beautiful it was, I hated that hike because I had to keep stopping to rest. The two guys were polite and waited for me for most of the trip, but at one point they ditched me in the woods all alone with the bears and mountain lions and wombats and rabid squirrels so they could go enjoy chilling by the lake while I tried to avoid being eaten. I survived somehow, but after that I didn't do much hiking, other than occasional walks along the trails in the woods near my house.  By the time I moved to Long Beach I forgot all about hiking, putting it away in my mind with other rites of my childhood, the things that I'd loved, but let go of because I figured they were lost due to aging and my physical condition.

Fast forward about 15 years, to the day I looked at my 300+ lb lard butt in a hotel bathroom mirror, and decided to do something about it. You guys know the rest. I went for walks, stopped eating so much junk, lost a bunch of weight, and started to feel good.  And then I became a runner. So now you kind of get the idea how much this running thing means to me. Because it's not like I was ever a good runner at any point in my life and lost the ability. No, up until recently, it was always difficult, horrible and humiliating. Which is why it's so darn liberating to do it now. Every time I run I'm stomping on my old habits and ways of thinking, and showing them who's boss. I'm reveling in freedom from the bonds I put on myself in my younger years, when I compared myself to the other kids, told myself I was a failure because I wasn't as good as them, and accepted being out of shape as a fact of life. And the best thing about being a runner is what it has done for my overall physical well-being, in strength, persistence and endurance. As much as I enjoy running, more than that I enjoy being able to do other things that for so many years I had assumed were lost to me, but are now once again within reach because of my improved physical ability.

So in an attempt to wrap things up, I'll go back to why I'm so stoked about turning 39. About a year ago, I visited my dad for his 80th birthday. There was only one thing that the man of the mountains wanted to do to mark that momentous occasion: hike to Mt. Rose. Yep. The one and only. So I took my dad and the poor unsuspecting Filipino guy that I'm married to, and we got on the trail. My dad was a real trooper, he made it 4/5 of the way in before he decided it would be best to call it a day. But he told us to go up to the summit and meet up with him later. So we did. And this time it was a different story. I didn't drag up that hill. I charged up it. The wind was blowing, the sun was glaring, and there was little air to speak of up there close to 11,000 feet elevation. But I conquered that peak, and came down wanting to crow like a whole flock of roosters. When I got home to Southern California, I found myself researching places to hike, hoping to rediscover the joy I'd had exploring the back country when I was a kid. I found lots of descriptions of hiking adventures, and remembering how I loved the mountaintop hikes the most, I sought those out the most fervently.

Last fall, I took the plunge and went on my first serious SoCal hike. I took on Mt. Wilson. It seemed like it should be a moderate hike for someone in my physical condition, but I overestimated my ability and didn't plan properly, so of course, it didn't go well. For more on that, read my "Just Keep Climbing" post. Like my misadventures in the woods to Velma Lakes, it was grueling and difficult and got me down because I didn't finish it the way I'd dreamed. But instead of giving up and throwing in the towel like my old self would have done, I was determined to show old Mt. Wilson who's boss. And so in April this year, I went back and did just that. It was an awesome experience, exactly everything I'd hoped the first one would be. And the confidence I gained from that hike set the stage for planning my 39th birthday adventure.

The mountain hike I've read the most about on various hiking websites and such is the hike to Mt. San Antonio, know colloquially in Southern California as "Old Mt. Baldy". At 10,068 feet, it is the tallest peak in the San Gabriel Mountains. It is accessible by two trails: the "Devil's Backbone" trail, which is nearly 7 miles from the trailhead to the summit, and the "Ski Hut" trail, which is 4.5 miles. Both routes challenge hikers with nearly 4,000 feet of elevation gain from the parking lot to the summit. Most hikers do a loop, taking one trail to the summit and taking the other one down, in order to enjoy all the views that the hike has to offer. Now, I'd done the two Mt. Wilson hikes solo, but had been advised not to take on Baldy the first time alone. So as my birthday approached, I begged the poor unsuspecting Filipino guy to come with me so I could hike Mt. Baldy to commemorate the day. He was a little leery, so I told him it would be the same as Mt. Rose. I think I bald-faced lied. Poor guy. It's a good thing that he's a really good sport. Or I'd probably still be there on Mt. Baldy, alone with the bears and wombats, because he would have abandoned me there halfway up the crazy-steep Ski Hut trail that I made him hike if he wasn't.

So, in the end it was a great day. Despite a little grumbling from my other half on the ascent and some difficulty with the descent on my part, we really enjoyed the hike. We came, we saw, we conquered, we bought the T-shirt. And I came home with yet another awesome experience for my collection. And that's what my life really boils down to right now. I might be getting older, but the way I see it, in my situation, I'm actually getting younger. As I continue to work on improving my fitness level, I can do more and more things I never imagined possible, and the best part is that I know I'm not nearly close to being at my peak. I'm already setting goals and making preparations for the next level that I'd like to reach, with confidence that with patience and determination, I can achieve those goals just the same as I've reached all the others that I made. Less than a year from now I will turn 40. And I'm confident that rather than going "over the hill", instead, to commemorate it, sometime next summer I'll be going "up a hill". A big one. Not sure which one yet, though Mt. Whitney is first on my list. It's an awesome feeling to me that despite our culture's emphasis on basing our abilities on age, the approaching age of 40 does not scare me, that instead it inspires me to prove that age is just a number, and we are only as old as we let ourselves be. It might seem like a cliché, but the very life I'm living is proof of it!

So, my friends, I hope you enjoyed my longer-than-usual stream of consciousness. I promise to do a post with more pictures and less blah blah blah soon, but until then, keep reading and reposting if you think your friends can stand me. Thanks so much, and see you next time!
-MaryAnne

Back To Basics

Here I am again at my computer, hammering out some thoughts and hoping against hope that I can get them all put in order and published for my adoring public of approximately 12 faithful readers before my brain goes to mush and I forget what I wanted to say. As I write this I have approximately 3 or 4 posts that I started and never finished, simply because I have a tendency to write way too much. I always need to go through and edit, cut and polish before I feel ready to post, and while the writing part is not too hard, the editing part is where I get all bogged down. The good news is, if I ever hit a dry spell where I go for awhile without thinking of anything to write, I've got those posts already started and I can just go cannibalize them for ideas.  However, that day is not today, so off we go with the latest stuff swimming around in my brain.

I have written post after post about running, especially about my love for doing races, how much it all means to me and how it's helped me accomplish a lot towards my health. So it may come as a surprise to many that I've decided to take a break from racing for awhile, and to just focus on my training runs. I have several reasons for this, thus the ever wordy blog post.

A few weeks back, I ran another half marathon. It was my third half marathon this year. In addition to that, so far this year I've also run a full marathon and done a 5k walk thrown in for good measure. That's a whole lot crammed together in just over 5 months time. I have a whole wall covered with shiny, sparkly medals now, they hang by my bed to remind me of my accomplishments and how far I've come. So why the pause now? Because while I was able to complete each race in reasonable time, I know that I could have done better. Last year I ran a total of three half marathons, one 10k and two 5ks over the course of the entire year. Each time I raced a half, I had a nice fat PR to crow about over the previous one, for the simple reason that I had several months time in between each one to train.  This time around, I've still gotten a couple of PR's, but each only a minute or better than the previous best. While any runner would tell you that any PR is a good PR, in my case I am still a new runner and still moving up in my ability. I know that my progress should be more significant because I'm not anywhere near my peak yet.

So why did I run so many races the past few months? Simply put, I got excited. After all my personal victories last year, I started to feel just a teeny bit invincible. I wanted to keep feeling that wonderful feeling, so I signed up for every race I could that fit my personal criteria of challenging, but still fun and exciting. A race through the streets of Los Angeles at night. A race "with the stars" along Hollywood Blvd. A race where all the participants were women and we got to wear the most awesome pink outfits, where we all got tiaras and feather boas at the finish line, along with a giant medal handed to us by a handsome shirtless man who wore the pants of a Fireman, that we were all pretty sure wasn't really a Fireman but we didn't really care .  And then there was that marathon. I'd decided to do a marathon last summer, and I set my sights on the race that I'd run as my first half marathon the previous year as the same race I'd do for my first full. For sentimental reasons and all.

The marathon was in February, and I finished it in 6 hours and 27 minutes. I told myself I was happy because I had finished, but something about my time nagged at me. And it was simply the knowledge that I could have done better.  I had started training for the Surf City Marathon in October, after running the Long Beach Half Marathon. Up until that time I had never run more than 13.1 miles. I was scared, but with a pep talk from my other half, I got out there and ran 14 miles. The next week I did 16 miles, then 18. I was ready to get up to 20, but something happened and I had to miss a week or so of training. I can't remember what happened, could have been illness or injury or any number of things. For the next couple months I kept doing that 14, 16 and 18 miles, but couldn't get up to 20. Something always came up. Then winter and the holidays came along. I tried to run but it was cold, rainy, and there were lots of activities and trips that prevented me from sticking to my training plan. I still ran somewhat regularly, but was nowhere near the level I wanted to be.  When January rolled around, I still hadn't done a 20 miler, and there was just one month to the marathon. I ran a half marathon the first weekend in January, then set my sights on cramming in as much training as possible before the marathon. Two weeks before the race, I finally made it up to 20 miles. And after that, I didn't do another long run until the day of the race.

The marathon was tough. Well, duh. I don't think a marathon is easy for anyone. But it thoroughly kicked my butt. I came in like 2020th out of like 2090. I say "like" because I don't have the exact stats in front of me, but that's pretty darn close. Out of more than 2,000 people, I only beat about 70. Of course I was ecstatic to finish the darn thing and have a marathon medal to add to my collection and a new sticker to put on my car, but I just couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it was not what it could have been. So what went wrong? Too many distractions during training. I had tried to cram in a lot of training during the wrong time of year, and threw off my training by running another race too close to the big one. So after that, I figured I would get back into the swing of things with the next two races I had lined up, and that all that marathon training would translate into huge half marathon PRs. But that didn't happen either. Like the marathon, I did acceptably well, but not nearly as well as I'd hoped.  The races were so close together that I spent more time in tapering (before the race) and recovery (after the race) than I did in actual training. I did short maintenance runs, but couldn't get in those long training runs that I needed to build back up my endurance for the races.

So what's my plan now? I'm getting back to basics. For one thing, I still need to lose some weight. I've been chasing a sub 200 number on the scale since last July when I finally saw the exact number 200, and ever since then I've been see-sawing between 200 and 205, never dipping lower. I've gotta go back to how I started losing weight in the first place, evaluating what I'm eating and working on eliminating and replacing the problem foods until I reach my weight loss goal of Shall Not Be Named Until A Later Time.  Second, I need to go back to running for the sake of running, for the purpose of fitness and not just for adding shiny things to my wall.  I know that a regular, uninterrupted running routine will do wonders for my fitness goal because that's what worked before.  Finally, I have set a goal of running another full marathon next year, and to reach that goal I need to be training now, not waiting until just a few months before. This isn't the same case for all runners, but I have a lot of work to do so I'm determined to take the time to work my way up to the level where I will be comfortable to not only finish, but run the whole thing and take a nice, big chunk off my previous time.

I am not going to give up completely on running my beloved half marathons and other smaller races. But I've set some new standards for them. First of all, I will give myself adequate time between them. That means looking ahead and knowing I'm going to have to make some tough choices. There are some races that I've run that I have wonderful sentimental value for and will have a hard time giving up.  But I'd rather be able to show up prepared for the challenge, have a good time and feel satisfied with the result, than simply show up to finish and have another medal for my wall. When I look at my medals, I want to remember having a victorious experience for each one, and a celebration of the accomplishment of each race each time I see them. Some runners can run races on a regular basis and have that experience with each one, but at this point in my journey I'm not at that level yet.

So for now, it's back to basics for me. I'm already at a good place to start, I know that it's just a matter of taking time, and having focus, determination and faith to get me where I want to be. I'm ready to get started, and looking forward to seeing what the next few months will bring.

Thanks again for reading, and as usual, if you like what you read, please feel free to share! See you all next time!
-MaryAnne