Running Privacy Laws?

After almost 28 years on this green earth, I’m pretty secure with acceptable social standards of conduct – I say “God bless you” when someone sneezes and I don’t make a big deal if a coworker passes deadly gas in the same room. I silently die inside, but I don’t purchase a coffin.

However, there seems to be an entirely different code of social standards for runners – some are obvious and others must be dealt with on less secure footing. Whether you are a new runner or veteran, it is common sense to politely pass someone slower than you and not barrel past them. And if a runner is clearly struggling on the last leg of a marathon, you are supposed to shout out, “You’re doing good! Keep it up, only a few more miles to go, you can do it!” – when in reality you want to say, “In the name of everything holy, you look horrible man,, can I call you a taxi to take you to the hospital so I don’t feel guilty if you have a heart attack right in front of me? I don’t even know CPR.”

 But the runners’ etiquette that has always eluded me is if you can ask another runner their race times. I’m not referring to the runners who update their facebook status with “OH YEAH just did the half marathon in 1:30, its ice bath time baby!” (true status update of someone I know). Those are the beacon of light runners, who even in the fog of everyday conversation will somehow manage to tell you their race times – Oh, so you had a baby and PR-ed in the same week, wow……I’m going to just vomit over here now. I’m confused about the everyman runner who keeps their times to themselves, but made mention of a race earlier……so can I ask their time, or since they didn’t offer it – is that none of my business?

If I look at it from the runner’s standpoint, I feel that my times are open to discussion – they are listed on the race results page anyway. Clearly I can’t tell my friend that I ran the 5k in 23:32 when the website says 28:02. The jig is up.

 From the most logical view, it is a race after all; I participated in an athletic competition for a timed result. Whether I ran the race to beat my own previous time or the time of the 80 year old that I’m (fairly) certain I can pass – it is still timed for placing in a race. However I get the sense that some runners will openly share that they are racing, but never want to mention numbers afterwards. They will even remark about how their big toenail finally turned black and fell off (because that's what I want to hear about before I've had my Sheetz coffee in the morning) – yet they look completely taken aback when I ask about race times.

 It’s not that I want to know out of self indulgence in case I’m faster than you (that, um….hasn’t really happened) – I want to know because we talk about training, speed-work, hills, and everything else related to running – I am naturally curious how it all cumulated.

 I know we live in a very coddled society, where you aren’t really allowed to ask questions that might make someone feel anything less than great. But if I can put on my big girl pants and tell everyone about my 5:30 marathon time (I pathetically limped the last six miles, ah….the sweet memories….), then even if your time was not what you anticipated – you should feel that as part of the running community, we have all been in that boat before (with Jaws actively circling it). I rationalized that I couldn’t talk about my marathon for six months ahead of time, update those interested with training session chats, and take vacation time off work to run the race, then NOT give people the end of the “story”, even though it quite frankly sucked. Up until mile 20, I was on course for a 4:20 first marathon, so I had a hearty cry over my actual 5:30 finishing time. But that’s what happened and as a runner, I can openly share good and disappointing times with other runners without feeling judged.

 Am I wrong on this?

The snooze button won that battle

I take my morning routine preeeeetttttttyyyyy seriously - so much in fact that I'm in bed every night between 7 p.m. - 8 p.m. just so that I can wake up properly at 4 a.m. to workout/run the next day. I'm one of those individuals who requires a full eight hours of sleep or else small children scream when they see me the next day. Because I'm a beast when I don't get eight hours of sleep.......in case I didn't try hard enough to make that connection....yup.....(cough).

This routine isn't cool, hell - I'm not sure if it's even remotely normal - but it's my thang and I like it. I'm sorry I just typed "thang", I know better than that. Let's just get to the point of this post. It's sadly already past my self imposed bedtime.

My alarm went off every day this week at 4 a.m. and this is exactly what happened everyday at 4 a.m.

Nothing.

Unless you count my hand swatting my cell phone to snooze the alarm, not one thing happened. I DIDN'T put on my pink running shorts. I DIDN'T give my adrenline pumped-up pug a kong to shut up her while I ran. I DIDN'T slip on my Asics. And I DIDN'T run around my ridiciously hilly neighborhood.

Of course I regret being lazy and skipping my runs so I'm determined to run this weekend. Here's hoping it doesn't hit 90 degrees. I must live a mile from the sun.

I demand a race time, or just cash.

EDIT: I just saw the results and I actually placed third in my age division with my worst 5k time ever. I'm so happy I could kick puppies!!!  http://yorkgoldstarrun.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/ENTRIES.WINNERS.2011.pdf

I’m the first to admit that I have no idea how hard it is to put on a race of any size. I briefly considered starting a 5k in my area, but after realizing that it involves a lot more effort than I was wanted to put in (I was only willing to send out one email), I nixed that little plan. So I respect every race director and the tireless dedication that goes into planning a competitive event.

That being said (ahem)- when you state on the website to post race times up the next day, I would hope to see my world record breaking time up there the next day. I ran a local 5k on Memorial Day and despite the unexpected mountain I had to run up at mile 2 (I can’t reiterate how much I need to do race research before slapping down my registration fee), the race was wonderful and it felt good to complete another race without any pain. Although a 5k isn’t my favorite distance, seeing as speed is the key factor in that event, completing any race at this point colors my world in roses. (The Alabaster Runner, his brother, and myself have signed up the Myrtle Mini Marathon in October – I’m not ashamed to say it was a decision made solely because of the honking big finisher’s medal). 

I have a rough estimate of this race time, my PR for a 5k is 25:47 and I knew with having some lingering knee issues and just starting up running again, I wasn’t going to be breaking that PR time. I was shooting for sub 30 and considering that I was looking for a swift (and inconspicuous – those volunteers were eyeing me like a villian) exit at the bottom of the hill, I’ll take anything even close to 30 minutes. So cut to today and I’m refreshing the results page like I don’t have an actual job I should be doing, and still no results.  

Realizing that I was getting unnaturally agitated about the missing results (to be fair, they still have six hours to post to remain in compliance with their website statement); I’m going to give myself a 5k time until I see something otherwise.

Theresa S.                   Female                        Age-27                        21:18

Holy dukes! I PR-ed with a 21:18! (Maybe I can live without factual results).

I should read things correctly before conjuring up grandiose images.

I was forwarded a running link by a friend and before my over worked brain had a chance to process the article title correctly, I thought I was about to read about a “Golden Girls Half Marathon”.

Even in this millisecond mistake, my mind was already envisioning dressing up like Blanche and puttering out 13.1 miles along 500 Rose look-a-likes talking about St. Olaf. Cheesecake would be served at the finish and the water stations would be under some ...Shady Pines. This was obviously the most ingenious marathon idea. Ever. Screw you Boston.

Then I actually clicked the link and was treated to this.

Oh, Happy Girls Half Marathon.

Not Golden Girls Half Marathon.

Biggest let down of the week.

X-Training and Baby Biceps

In November 2009 the Alabaster Runner and I finally realized that muscles don’t just appear out of thin air and we signed up at L.A. Fitness. After 18 months of consistent weight training (at least four times a week for 45 minutes), I’m reporting that I’m drunk happy with the results. My arms are more tone and shapely – and if I look just right in the mirror, I can see a little two-pack. I could have had even better results by this point, but I tend to easily fall of the clean eating wagon and take my time getting back on the Oregon Trail. There are surprisingly a copious amount of vegan friendly snacks that aren’t good for you (and I do not endorse tofu – you keep that to yourself Alicia Silverstone). Isn’t there some horribly accurate statistic where diet is 80% of your overall fitness, and exercise is merely 20%?

But bragging about my baby biceps isn’t the point of this post, that’s just gravy on the mashed potatoes. For most of the duration that I’ve been a gym member, weight training is all I’ve ever done (besides the initial treadmill runs and occasional yoga class). I thought weights were quite enough of a cross training tool and consider me well done. It wasn’t until I was out of running commission that I discovered spin class and how beneficial it might just be to break up my cardio as well. While I still plan on running in the morning four days a week; at my discretion I can use other days to spin and hover my little heart out. Not only does spin class give me a sweaty balls workout, it always protects my legs from a constant beating and hopefully prevents re-injury. Here is my typical week:

Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday	Saturday	Sunday
5 a.m. weight training	4:15 a.m. run (3-4 miles)	5 a.m. weight training	4:15 a.m. run (3-4 miles)	5 a.m. weight training	7 a.m. run (3-4 miles)	7 a.m. run (3-4 miles)
5:45 a.m. Spin class	5:30 a.m. weight training	5:45 a.m. Spin class	5:30 a.m. weight training	5:45 a.m. Spin class	Rest	Rest

The runs will get longer as I feel my arches can handle the increased mileage – and sometimes a weight training session might move to another day, but this is the general consistency that I have grown to crave. Any way you cut the mustard, I’m done all my fitness related hoopla by early morning and feel genuinely energized the rest of the day. Additionally, while I’m always working out to some degree every day, the exertion level and difficulty of the workout is never back to back, so I can let certain sets of body muscles rest before they are heavily used again.

I firmly believe that cross training is essential for me in order to shift out of my old running logic (that thought going from my first 5k to a full marathon in less than 9 months was the of the same genius thinking level as Stephen Hawking) and begin to significantly train smarter.

But speed work can still s*** it.

I missed getting a beer mug by....

This past Saturday I participated in the Mills Adventure Run with my husband, Travis, and older brother, Mikey. Here are the key facts you need to know about this dastardly race:

• I was able to run the 5k without my arches or knees hurting in the slightest from PF.
• Unfortunately, I completely COMPLETELY COMPLETELY underestimated the rapid deterioration rate of fitness sans running. Apparently when I don’t run for two months, a three mile obstacle race is the equivalent of Badwater. (I don’t know if I’m allowed to ever compare the level of race difficulty between a ‘local fun run’ and something ultra marathoner Scott Jurek called “hell on earth”, but here we are).
• I greatly enjoyed the atmosphere of a small race, approximately 100 people signed up and 70 showed. And of those 70, about 64 of them looked really bada**. I just looked like someone who should have slathered on some tinted moisturizer.
• My brother smoked before and after the race. This fact isn’t pertinent knowledge, but it still blows my mind.
• Mikey also has the worst shoelaces ever, he had to stop and retie them six times in the span of thirty five minutes. Trust me when I say that other runners took notice and murmured in agreement about sailors’ knots.
• The obstacles were much tougher than the 10k Merrell Mud Run in Philly, which surprised me because this event was so low key. An eight foot wall hurdle is quite intimating when you’re only 5’4.
• I assumed someone would be manning a water station at the end of the race.
• Water station? That was adorably naïve.
• I didn’t properly do my race research (yet again) and wasn’t prepared for the water obstacle. I thought it was, at most, treading through ankle deep water – it was actually sloshing through waist high water on slippery rocks.
• I took an embarrassing fall in the water obstacle. Dukes!
• My dad caught the fall on camera. Double dukes!
• The first forty runners across the finish line got awesome beer mugs.
• Naturally, I was #41.

Even though I missed out on the beer mug by one person – some girl, who shamelessly flirted with both my brother and husband, passed me (skaaaaaaank) – I had a great time. My only complaint with the race organization was lack of water at the finish; otherwise it was a pleasantly intimate and well run race. Without hesitation I will run this event again.

I never expected to run the entire race without any hint of pain, much less get so close to being in the top forty (and I’m quite aware that being in the top forty out of seventy is not worthy of an Olive Garden celebration, but that’s a discussion between me and my future waiter). My dad, little sister and brother, were all in attendance as well. Swweeet!

And, for those interested, I did beat my arch nemesis, Mikey. But I’m pretty sure he let me.

Practical Tips to Beat Your Running Rival

My first race since being injured with PF is scheduled for May 14^th, the Lower Allen Park Adventure Run roughly 2.8 miles and littered with military style obstacles. It should make for a good comeback race considering it is not even a full 5K, and the running is interjected with pull-ups, mud crawling, and rope climbing. My concern does not rest so much in the fact that I could barely finish a mile run a few weeks ago (although I really should spend some time musing over what that might indicate); my primary goal is to snuff my older brother out of a win anyway I can.

The short version is not quite as epic as the Count of Monte Cristo (“I swear on my dead relatives - and even on the ones who are not feeling too good - I am your man forever!”) – yet it still haunts me to my core. The alabaster runner, my older brother Michael, and myself, all ran out first half marathon together last fall. It was the Amish Bird-in-Hand ½ Marathon and my brother had never run more than 8 miles before, he’s a daily smoker, and he didn’t have much experience running outside. In a logical world these facts would indicate that I would fare somewhat better. But in bizarro “screw the pooch” world, Michael managed to keep pace with us the entire time without seemingly much labored effort. Although taken for surprise, I enjoyed our family run and even envisioned a race photo of us all crossing at the same time and making a beeline for the Dominos pizza booth. For 12.5 miles we all agreed on this storybook ending UNTIL in the last half mile of the race Michael decided that our little Disney finish wouldn’t suffice and he pulled out in front and smoked me by one muthafu*** minute for the win. (It should be noted that the alabaster runner saw Michael speed away and in turn A.R. pulled ahead too and finished fifteen seconds ahead of me – so apparently all the men in my life athletically betray me).

I can handle being beaten – that happened about 10,000 times over in the Shamrock Marathon – you get oddly used to the cold air of someone passing you. But we were going to finish together as a family and Michael gloated and reviled in the win too deliciously for my taste. So when he suggested we join him on the Adventure Run, I knew this was redemption. Unfortunately, my current plantar fasciitis presents a problem that I didn’t forecast when I signed up for this race. With that in mind, I came up with some back up ammo to take Michael down – I present practical tips to beat your running rival.

1. Work on strength training – if I can’t run at my full 100%, I have to take him down on the obstacles. I will have to tap into my inner Jillian Michael's physique and shame his girly arms on the rope climbs. (Note: this only works in the typical 5K obstacle run – unless there are some crazy mud run marathons going on that I’m not privy to).
2. Pray to God that he becomes injured as well. I don’t wish him ill necessarily, but a bout of cholera wouldn’t kill him. (Second note: research if cholera kills someone).....(Third note: it does).
3. Play it off like I’m not looking for sweet revenge, give him a false sense of a “family fun run” and then pass him at the end (while simultaneously screaming “SUCKA” at the top of my lungs). Keep it classy. However, since I have been emailing Michael at least once a week for months and throwing around phrases like, “Mud is thicker than blood” and “Ready for the can of whoop a** yet?”, I think the innocent act would be moot.
4. Cheat – obviously the most heinous and deplorable option at my disposal. Not. seeing. downside.