Brooks Inspire Daily Program

A few weeks ago, I applied for the Brooks Inspire Daily Program - a grassroots community aimed to promote the Brooks line of running shoes and apparel by the people who know and love the products - the runners themselves. I myself run in Brooks Adrenalines on a daily basis, switching out only for my Infinitis. The only time I dare to not run in Brooks is on the trail, where my Vasque Blurs are my shoe of choice. I have not had the opportunity to try the Brooks trail shoe as of yet.

Now for me, shoe shopping is a bit traumatic. I have a somewhat narrow foot; it is nearly impossible to find a pair of Adidas or Nikes that will even come close to fitting. I have worn a Mizuno (though I had a disastrous 1/2 marathon in a pair on a canted road that ended up as tendonitis for 3 weeks), but all the others get tossed aside as I try on shoe after shoe just to make sure that I have the one that works best.

But I always come back to the Brooks Adrenaline. I guess it was eight or nine pairs of shoes ago that I was first introduced to this fantastic shoe. I remember clearly the salesperson recommending I try them on because 85% of the women who tried them could wear them. Now that's a high percentage of people choosing those shoes at a running store!! Have you seen how many options there are? But sure enough, I slipped it on and I could feel that it was built correctly for my foot. I can also attest to the wide variety of friends that love these shoes as well - from the walkers to the high mileage runners.

Happily, Brooks has stayed true to that shoe in the 2 or 3 versions they have released since that first time I found them. Nothing makes me crazier than a shoe company that tweaks the build of their shoes (I used to love running in a pair of Adidas that they completely changed one year. No more!)

I am looking forward to trying out their trail shoe, the Cascadia, to see if it will fit as well as the Adrenaline. I may also try their lightweight trainer now that I am running track workouts on Tuesday nights. And I am definitely excited to see their gear - oh, how I love new running gear.

I don't think that I will have any problem sharing my love of the Brooks shoe line with my running friends and new people that I meet. But I have realized that I am going to have to start blogging about my running again, in addition to all of the work I am doing with the runningrelays.com blog! Whew. That's a lot of writing and running! But still, I am doing what I love, and as long as it keeps me from having to get a "real" job, I'm good.

On Falling

I discovered this post from August of last year, and I couldn't believe that I had written it then. This idea about switching to trails has been brewing longer than I even remember.

I could feel the rock on my toe before I saw it. The collision reverberated through my shoe, and as I fell, I could see the fine detail in the dirt, the excruciating awareness that this fall was going to hurt. Stinging pains shooting through my knee - it's not enough to fall, but I have to fall on the rocks...

It had been such a beautiful trail run. 900 feet of elevation gain in a mile or two, beautiful canyon vistas, a babbling creek and deep green forest cover. And now it was going to be a painful trail run, blood streaming down my leg and my knees swelling with deep bruises.

This is how I run on trails.

I don't know why I feel called to run through the forest, but I do. I am not particularly good at it. My gait is what one what call "shuffling" - I do not expend a lot of extra energy picking up my feet. Consequently, I frequently stumble on low rocks, especially when I am daydreaming. But I feel such peace when I am out on the trail that I cannot help but hear its siren call. I want to run long on trails.

I feel an interior shift happening. I have been thinking so much about speed lately - going faster and faster - that I am getting burnt out. I want to run for fun - to have no idea about how far I've gone, only that I've gone for an hour. I want to relax and let go of the competition, which for those who know me probably sounds pretty ridiculous. But it is true. I do not like that competitive side of myself. It never lets me relax and go for the ride.

Enough of that. It is time to let go of the old ways and to find some new, more joyful ones. I am done with accurate mileage counts, with pace, with precise workouts that focus on results.

Sluggish, sluggish days

So I heard last night that the reason why we Oregonians are suffering terrible allergies this year can be traced back to our nutty thunderstorms earlier this month. Apparently the force of the wind and the rain pulverized our poor little pollen spores so that they have become a fine dust, settling into our systems to turn us in to miserable, sneezing creatures. I can surely attest to the severity of this year's allergy season. I think it is ruining my running.

Okay, probably not for real, but I've got to blame something for my recent lack of energy. Pushing out a run at a 9:20 pace is not easy these days. I'm finding it harder to wake up in the morning. (Why is the word 'overtraining' flashing in my brain????) But what is surprising is that before I got sick this spring, 40 mile weeks were feeling fantastic. I was speeding up, I was feeling great - I was in the flow. But now, I can't get my weight back down, I can't pick up the pace, and I'm falling apart on this plateau.

I have a million theories about why this might be happening. Some involve planetary alignment, some on the obliterated pollen, some on what must have been swine flu that I caught this spring (oh sure, my daughter's flu swab said Influenza B, but I mean, come on. It must have been something terrible.) But none of that really matters, does it? Because whatever the cause, it is happening, and I just have to keep on trudging through it.

At least experience has shown me that these lulls do eventually end for whatever reason. Relay season is upon us, and nothing gets me recharged for running like spending 30 hours in a van with my best running friends. I can only hope that the turn around will begin before that time, and I'll be ready to meet the road with a big smile on my face!

Doh.

Well, my heart was in the right place, but my legs decided to take a vacation. My 10k was not what I had hoped it would be, but I survived and had a fantastic beer at the finish. What else do I need?

Definitely need to start doing some speedwork and working on leg turnover. Or I need to chill out.

One of the two.

Midnight. Race in 8 Hours.

Am I the only one that is hit with nerves the night before the big race?  I try to lay down and get some sleep, but no.  I can't.  I'm too busy running a few more miles in my mind to be able to rest.  It's crazy, and it's delicious, and it's a big part of why I love running so much.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to race in the 10 Cane 10k, mostly because I am curious about finding where my speed is at right now.  I spent so much time focusing on distance for the marathon and recovering from the never-ending crud that I have put little effort into speeding things up.  But it's the possibility of a pleasant surprise that keeps me from sleep.

This inability to calm my nerves enough to rest would probably make me a terrible adventure racer.  I was watching some Primal Quest videos the other day, and I have to admit, I'm interested in those too.  What is it with me?  I have so many things on my to-do list; not one of them includes cleaning up the house, which could really use it.  But I'd so much rather hit the road or the trail, come home muddy, and plan the next adventure.  I guess I just need to learn to live with it.

I don't have much more to say.  I guess I'll go lay down and mentally run the race a few times so that I'm ready to go in the morning!

A Long Time Away

I've been very busy with my runningrelays.com blog - too busy, in fact, to update my personal blog once since last March.  Not one mention of my marathon, my ever lasting flu/bronchitis/diseased lung (ha ha), my cross country journey which has reached the halfway point for the year.  Nothing.

But today's topic of TiART is Relays, Ultras and Tri's, oh my!  and I just can't resist.  Because I guess I'm, at heart, a non-traditionalist, if that's what relays and ultras are all about.  It's no secret that I'm crazy about relays - how could I not be if I spend most of my free time researching and blogging about relays and team names? - but I'm a little crazy about ultras too.  I just haven't done one yet.

I first learned about ultras after reading Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man.  I was fascinated by a race called the Badwater Ultra - a 135 mile race through Death Valley at the height of summer.  Now I've driven through Death Valley in June - it was miserable.  But to learn that there are people who run across it?  I was fascinated!  So I picked up a copy of Running on the Sun, a documentary from the race.  A new world was opened to me.

Now, let me just give a disclaimer; I really don't want to do the Badwater.  But I am inspired by running long, by the idea that a race can be about going the distance, rather than going the distance the quickest.  A race where it's me against the terrain, the elements.  The type of race where you find what you are made of. That I like.

So I signed up for my first trail run - a 25k out at Hagg Lake in February - a place known for its mud.  Although I wasn't running the ultra distance, I was running in the ultra environment (there is a 50k that day too), and what I saw, I loved.  The atmosphere is much more relaxed than a traditional road race.  Aid stations are stocked with things like gummi bears and pretzels and soda.  After the race, we enjoyed hot dogs and soup.  Everyone seemed to support each other, to share the trail and encourage each other.  It was one of the hardest races I've done - I was walking at the end, with muddy shoes and legs (and apparently, it wasn't even a muddy year!).  And I thought it was so cool.

It's the shared spirit that I respond to, I think.  In relays, you are sharing an experience and challenging yourself in a way that I find lacking in a regular road race.  It is very common for ultrarunners to run together for long stretches, helping and encouraging each other through the painful miles. I can't put my finger on why this would be true of ultras and relays, and not regular races, but it is there.  I can feel it.  So I'm looking at trying an ultra distance next; maybe tackling the 50k version of Hagg Lake.  It's a lot to contemplate, but I find it exciting. 

My Cross-Country Running Journey

March 8, 2009 Update (1,609 miles):

I've been making some serious progress in the miles department, logging two record mileage months, with over 160 in January, and over 180 in February.  Just this week, I logged my first 50+ week, and I still feel good.  That's the shocking part.  At least my fears that I was not built to take more than 30 miles are proving to be unfounded.  It just took time to build to that point.

So I've been a little remiss on updating my waypoints on this journey.  I've passed through Tucson:

I've taken a side trip to Mt Lemmon, AZ to dip my feet in the waterfalls:

And I've passed by these cool boulders near Wilcox:

I'm almost through Arizona, and I'm looking forward to New Mexico.

February 10, 2009 Update (1,428 miles):

I'm beginning to think I was a little carried away when I planned out these early stops.  I was worried that the winter would be slow-going, what with the weather and illness and the hundred other things that tend to crop up during a training interval.  But I've been pretty darn lucky so far, and the miles are quickly piling up.  In fact, I've made it to another tour stop - Red Rock, Arizona.
 

At 4,500 feet, the Red Rock / Sedona area is actually cool this time of year.  Today, the weather is 29º, but unlike here, they are enjoying blue skies with the chill.  This looks like it would be an absolutely fantastic area to run.  Sedona does in fact have a February marathon which looks to be beautiful and challenging.  There are some serious hills in the elevation profile.  Still, a February marathon in Arizona sounds intriguing.  

 

February 1, 2009 Update (1,388 miles):

January was a record-setting month for me.  I logged 163.17 miles for a new PR, and I put in 3 40+ mile weeks and am still moving.  Amazing.  I wasn't sure if my body could take it, but I guess building up slowly rather than trying to jump right to that point makes a big difference.

I've made it a new point on my journey - the Sonoran Desert National Monument.  I'm actually about 40 miles past it, but it has been a busy week.  Here's what it would look like if I were

 actually there:

It's a bit different than what I ran in this morning, but it is fun to dream:

January 20, 2009 Update (1,306 miles):

What a fantastic day.  Not only do we have a new President (Obama - you rock!), but I made it in to Arizona and my first stop in this fabulous state.  I've only been to Arizona once, back when I was a sophomore in high school.  Our team was there for a regional tournament, and it was June in Phoenix.  We spent most of our team being freaked out about the heat, but it is one of the highlights of my high school memories.  The high is supposed to be 78º today; I think I could go for that weather about right now.  But while it was cold this morning (30º), the wind has finally stopped, so things are bearable.

An abandoned house near Aztec, AZ.

January 4, 2009 Update (1,231.63 miles):
The miles are finally getting back up to pace after weather related layoffs. I just hope the rain holds for awhile. My mileage takes me past Dunes National Monument in California, which reminds me of the dunes near Florence. I had fun mapping out my route for the next year; I hope to up my yearly mileage to just under 1,350 miles so that I can make it to Austin, TX - a place I really want to run in some day. I finished out 2008 with 1,159 miles - well over the 1,000 mile goal I set for myself. I think the 1,350 is realistic as long as I stay injury-free; I would have reached those miles without the October injuries and December snow, I think. Oh well.






December 14, 2008 Update (1,167.67 miles):
I just ran past Ocotillo, CA. The weather is a balmy 59° - sounds great right now as the 22° weather has descended on Portland. I only know of this town from the interesting photo posted on Google Maps - it looked like the kind of town you might want to run through quickly (though apparently it was once an oasis . . .) :



My next stop on the map is Dunes, CA, home of the Dunes National Monument. But with the heavy snow on the ground and the icy cold air, it may be some time before I log any miles. I am considering begging the neighbor for use of their treadmill, but maybe that's just a little type A! The things us nutty runners will do for our fix . . .

November 23, 2008 Update (1,080.52 miles):

San Diego. 65º and sunny. A nice contrast to the 36º morning we had this morning on the Wildwood Trail, but Oregon is being nice and giving us lots of sun. I'll be heading east now to Yuma, Arizona. From the looks of things, it's going to be a long, boring haul through some desert:



But I've mapped out some cool spots to "stop" at, so it will keep things interesting!



September 30, 2008 Update (964.27 miles):
Phew. Made it through the long stretch to Los Angeles. I decided that I will keep heading south and check in on San Diego (perfect for those winter runs here in Oregon, when sun will be only a happy dream) and then I'll cut across on I-10 to check out Yuma, AZ and the Sonoran Desert.





September 2, 2008:
I've been logging my running miles since November 2007. As of today (Sept 2, 2008), I have run 845.9 miles. If were running from Portland down I-5, I would be about 111 miles from Los Angeles by now. To honor these imaginary travels, I've decided to start a photo album of what I might have seen if I were truly on the road...

Passing by San Francisco (635.6 mi - mid July, 2008):
The cool ocean breezes would have been a wonderful relief from the summer heat. If I was actually there . . .



In the shadow of Mt Shasta (361 mi - April, 2008):



Leaving Oregon (Ashland, 286 mi, mid March, 2008):


Where it all began (and where it all continues, really):

My Latest Project

It's no secret to anyone who knows me - I love relays. I've been raving about the Hood to Coast since I ran my first (and only) one in 1997. But I've been walked the Portland to Coast 8 times, captained twice, and been a van captain three years running. Last year I had the chance to run in the inaugural Cascade Lakes Relay, and I've been counting the days to my return ever since. The idea of the relay is one that I gravitate to, and there is nothing that gets me more giddy than race weekend.

So I decided that I would pour some of that enthusiastic energy into some articles for the Runners Lounge, a great website that shares running knowledge among the participants. But as I thought about the best way to put together the information, I realized what was really missing was a good website on running relays. I could find articles here and there, but nothing comprehensive.

So on a whim, I registered runningrelays.com and installed blogging software. And now, I am happy to say, I have a work in progress - www.runningrelays.com. I've been searching high and low for the relays, and I have been shocked by how many I've found! There are so many cool sounding events - I will be 110 before I get to them all. I've been madly writing articles and researching races, much to the detriment of the care of my family, home and other work obligations, but what I am putting together I hope will be helpful for those thinking about running relays.

At the very least, it has me dreaming about new events.

Common Mistakes & Cardinal Sins - TiART

There have been some great posts so far about running when injured, not listening to the body, all of that good stuff that we seem to learn the hard way.  My favorite piece of advice about deciding to run if things are in pain is from a marathon trainer friend - "Six days, six weeks, or six months. You decide."  It helps keep it all in perspective.

But that's not the cardinal sin that I want to talk about today.  No, I'd rather discuss the sin of (drumroll, please) - not learning from my mistakes!!!   Some examples:

I've known for a long time that spicy, fatty foods and I do not mix before running.  And yet, just last Sunday, I ate two big pieces of greasy fried chicken and went running 1/2 hour later.  Oh, it was bad.  And I know better.  But apparently, I haven't learned from my mistakes.

Another case in point:  I sweat a lot.  I know that I sweat a lot.  Last summer, I had gone out on a run with some light colored shorts and noticed after I had ran a few miles that it looked like I had peed my pants.  So what do I do?  I wear medium gray shorts to a 1/2 marathon on the 4th of July.  Ran almost half the race looking like I had failed to find a porty potty - great photos!  Will I ever learn?

And then there's the BodyGlide.  Awesome product.  Eliminates chafing wonderfully.  Of course, it doesn't work when you leave it in the drawer before heading out the door.  Huge chafe burns from my waterbelt and bra . . . and yes, I know better.

So that's my cardinal sin.  I learn all of this wonderful advice, find great solutions to problems, and then promptly forget to implement what I've learned.  I don't know if this is a big mistake for other people, but I sure know that it is for me.

Winning the Mental Game: How???

This week's TiART allows us to the questions, and with any kind of luck, generous readers will share their knowhow to make us better runners. For me, I have one recurring issue; how to play the mental running game and win.

I'm the kind of person who lives in her head. I think through everything from every possible angle, to the point that I sometimes make myself crazy. And instead of going with the positive thoughts, I have the tendency to think of every possible reason I might fail at anything I try. Lately I've given myself over to believing that a BQ is a pipedream for any number of reasons. And while I know, again intellectually, that I have as good a chance as anyone to achieve said goal, I'm having a hard time keeping it positive. I'm floundering.

What does a runner do to keep the mental game positive? I need ideas about how to keep my attitude on the upswing during training as well as the hard miles in the long run. How do I silence the critic that reminds me just how hard this running fast thing can be? What do other runners think about when they are trying to go fast? Am I the only person who counts "1,2,3,4" over and over in an attempt to pick up the pace? (And is there a more interesting variation to this tactic, because it truly sucks!!)

So there you have it - my burning question. I hope someone takes pity on me; I need the help. And something to think about : )

Running Injuries Explained

Not by me, though. If I could explain them, I'd be making a heck of a lot more money than I am right now. But as I'm not making any, I guess that wouldn't be too hard. But I digress.

So here's the scoop. This month's issue of Trail Runner has one of the best articles I've ever seen on running injuries, and I've read a lot of on the subject. I've both purchased and checked out books from the library, but this one comprehensive article could have saved me a lot of time and money. All of the major regions are covered, with excellent diagrams, strengthening exercises and real life case studies. I'm already a big fan of the magazine, but this one article has made the year's subscription worth it.

You can find the magazine at many running retailers: here's a list; but I think I've seen it at regular bookstores as well.

Hagg Lake 25k Race Report

I guess I'm an official trail runner.

Yesterday was the Hagg Lake Mud Run, and like its name would imply, it was a slog. And while I knew going in to the run to expect mud, I had no idea just how much mud the course entailed. I had the optimistic hope that the relatively dry February we've been enjoying would have dried the course out, but even with the relatively "good" conditions, it was tough. If you are considering this run, know that there is going to be a lot of mud no matter how dry it has been. Still, it was a lot of fun, and I had the biggest grins when I let myself go to splash through the really mucky parts.

The race starts off from the Sain Creek Picnic shelter, and it was fantastic to wait for the race to begin under the large heating lamps. Some of the 50kers were on their way through for their second lap as we waited for the start; it was cool to see how strong they were at that point. We could all only hope we'd be looking that good as we finished. The start is low-key; no big countdowns or anything like that, just a simple whistle and we were off for a quick out and back to make sure we got our mileage for the 25k. It's a short, steep hill for the out and back, which is great to warm up and work out some of the nervous energy - you can drop off clothing on the way back past the shelter. My gloves may still be sitting underneath the trees there . . .

And then you are off around the lake. Up and down and up and down and up and down and ... well, you get the picture. Slip, slide, jump from solid ground to solid ground. Climb up to the road, back down to the lake, and up again. Running across the dam was a welcome rest for the legs - solid, flat ground, but you see the hills coming. The first aid station is actually about 6 miles into the course for the 25k; you have to remember where you're at because there is are only two mile markers on the course.

It was interesting running on a trail like this; people will line up and you'll run in rhythm, but I worried a lot about being in the way. People seem friendlier on the trails - lots of "good jobs" from the people who pass you, slower pauses at the aid stations. It was a great vibe.

After the first aid station it seemed like ages until I made it to the second. Lots of exposed running, which was actually getting warm in the mid 50's weather we had yesterday afternoon. The signs along the way were entertaining, especially the reminder sign - "And you paid for this!" which brought a big grin to my face. At one point I remember looking across the lake and seeing the picnic shelter we started at, only to crest the hill moments later and see how much of the lake was hidden to the right.

More up and down and up and down, jump, slide, spin in place, slog, slog, through the mud. This is the point when the cool mud started to feel good on my feet. I started to slow on the hills, sometimes not being able to get good footing and having to go in to the bushes on the sides to get traction.

In the middle of this section, you see a sign that says "7.1 mile around the lake." This doesn't count the out and back, so if you see the sign and you aren't thinking clearly, you can get pretty discouraged that you aren't getting anywhere and you've been out running a long time. It's actually about 8.6 miles in total distance.

At the second aid station at Tanner Creek, I was suddenly energized to see my little brother getting some water. I had caught him! I burst in to the station and shouted, "I'm coming for you!" but then he let me know that his calf was pulled, and he was really struggling. That's not the way I wanted it to be. (I'm sure that I will never, ever be able to truly compete with him in a race if he is healthy.) We talked for a bit and I offered to run him in, but like the competitor he is, he told me to go on. At this point, there is about 4.2 miles left, and they are probably the longest ones of the race.

Somehow I thought the trail would get easier as we got closer to the finish - that somehow it would be drier and flatter, possibly even downhill. No. It's not. It's more hills, more mud, more everything, and it was a long, lonely haul back in. I had lost the people I had been tailing after the stop at the aid station, and I didn't catch anyone until the last half mile.

The sign that tells you to "PUSH!" because you have one mile left is so welcome, but the last little bit through the open fields with the thigh high divots is a mental battle. When you finally hit the parking lot and the trail you walked to get to the start, you are flying again, and all too soon, you've finished.

The finish was fantastic. The smell of roasting hotdogs greets you, and there are space blankets to warm you. They were well stocked with soup, soda, chips and cookies, as well as energy drinks from the sponsors. Because the race has some great sponsors, they have lots of raffle prizes. The shirts were terrific - the women's was a true women's long sleeve technical shirt - one that I know I will be wearing. Overall, a great, well organized race that was well worth the slightly higher entry fee.

If I have any advice for those who are running Hagg Lake for the first time, I would say make sure you've got good trail shoes. The better suited your shoes are to the mud, the better off you'll be. Also, make sure you've got socks that can get wet. Even on this dry year, my feet were soaked. I can only imagine what the course like if it is wet. Don't worry about trying to run the course for speed - it's going to be slower than the roads. The hills and mud are a one-two sucker punch combo. You'll get a great workout just by completing the distance.

This trail running is a different experience than a road run, and I loved it. I'm ready to try another one, but I think I would like to try one on a dry trail...

My results:
2:29:58 (9:41 pace)
Overall place: 60

Hagg Lake Tomorrow

The beautiful blue skies this morning have me singing a happy tune. I should probably take a rest day today since I'll be heading out to Hagg Lake tomorrow morning, but I just can't resist the sunny skies. I have to hit the road.

We've been incredibly lucky to have a dry week, so the Mud Run may be a little less muddy than normal. This is a good thing. Apparently the trail can be quite a mess. I'm still expecting to get dirty.

Now is the time when I start getting spring fever, dreaming of the warmer days and my permanent watch tan. It's time to start thinking about relays and early morning runs, the joy of running through sprinklers and late into the evening. It's enough to make a girl a little giddy.

But I know that I live in Oregon, and I am sure this is just that teaser week that will lead to the steady March rains that have to be endured. There are a lot more wet, cold miles to go, but today, I'm dreaming of spring.

One Stretch: TiART Thursday

Picking just one stretch is more difficult than it would seem.  Immediately after a run, I stretch my hamstrings with a simple forward bend.  If I don't, I notice all kinds of strangeness in my back later in the day, so if I were to pick one essential stretch, this would be it. 

But the question is not which stretch is essential, but rather which stretch has helped me to improve my running.  (See, I can pay attention to the theme every once in awhile!)  And that's where the lotus comes in.

I have issues with my hips.  As a soccer player, my hips get a lot of action during games. They are called on to switch directions, pivot to send long balls, and sprint down the field on a regular basis.  Then throw in the abuse they get when I use them as a secret weapon to knock opponents off the ball (as well as the abuse they take when the other soccer players dish it right back), and they are usually feeling pretty sorry for themselves.  

In fact, I've finally realized that I have to take the day after a soccer game off for my running, because they just aren't up to the task.   I tried treating my soccer games as part of my rest day, and I ended up with hip and psoas muscles so tight that I had to take time off.

To combat the effects of the second sport I love almost as much as running, I turned to yoga and discovered the lotus.  Lotus has been called the ultimate hip opener.  It is the pose we used to do easily as children, but with tight hips, is the pose that may be a super challenge.  There is a great online video at yogajournal.com that builds to the lotus; it is definitely worth checking out.  I start with half lotus, which is merely one foot on top of the hip, with the other one tucked under, and then I lean forward so that my head touches the ground.  Holding this pose for 10 - 15 seconds and then switching sides is usually enough to release my hips.  I will usually do the half on each side, and then go to full lotus, which I do for the same amount of time on each side.

Since I've started to do the lotus on a regular basis, I've noticed that my hips are not tightening up nearly as much, and the deep hamstring pain I've had off and on for the past two years is much, much less than it was.  I'm only really feeling it when I'm out over 12 miles or so.  I can't say with all certainty that this stretch is the reason - I've also been working my core - but I know that it has been part of the solution.

Funky Smells & Drinking Well

While it's true that runners and stink go hand in hand, I've recently learned that not all stinks are created equal.  If you smell like ammonia after a long run, you might need to adjust your fueling plan.

Apparently, when our bodies start to burn protein (i.e. the stuff that makes up our muscles), the process creates ammonia, which then seeps out of our body in our sweat.  We begin to burn protein when our body runs out of carbohydrates for energy, so if we are getting that ammonia smell, we need to be ingesting more carbs.

I know that last summer I experienced this phenomenom during a few longer runs in the heat.  I also wasn't very good with fueling - I hadn't yet tried Espresso Love GU to know that it was actually quite tasty and easy to get down.  Had I known that this ammonia smell was not just part of being a runner, I would have adjusted everything sooner.

But now I know.  So I guess I better stock up on some GU soon.

While I'm thinking about fueling, I thought I would mention that I recently ordered some Nuun electrolyte tabs.  I had heard great things about these tablets, and I loved the fact that they only were 5 calories for 16 oz of drink.  (Leaves more calories for drinking beer . . .)  The short review - they are great!  The flavors are light - not very sweet, so they are very easy to drink during running.  But they are tasty enough that I will mix up a bottle to drink during the day to make sure I'm staying hydrated.  I have found my go-to drink.

My favorite flavor is tri-berry, but citrus fruit and kona cola is good too.  I have a lemon-lime I haven't tried yet.  If you are interested in trying Nuun, Feed the Machine has a great sale going on right now - 1/2 off the regular price.  

Happy fueling.

To Boston or Not To Boston . . .

That is a good question.

Boston was a goal I never really had in my sights before.  Boston was for the really good runners, those speedsters who would lap me on their cooldown runs.  Thin, sleek gazelle like runners who ran track in college or former Ironmen triathletes who decided to get this notch on their belt.  Not me.  Not a full-time mom who was lucky to get in 20 miles a week.

But as my running has improved, my dreams have gotten bigger.  The mileage increased, my physique started to look more runner like, and then . . . a 1:51 half marathon.  An 8:35 pace.  My magic number.  At my age, I need to run a 3:45 marathon to qualify, which is, yes, an 8:35 pace.  What before had never seemed possible now just slipped in to view.

I kept training.  Kept pushing.  Then a 1:46 marathon.  Cushion time.  Hmm.  This Boston thing just might be possible.

So I'm training for the Eugene Marathon May 3rd.  It's a nice flat course, and temperatures should be just about perfect (barring any crazy Oregon heatwaves which occasionally come up in May).  Can I do it?  My VO2 max calculations say yes.  My recent races say yes.  My training pace says yes.  Even my running buddies say yes.

But I'm not so sure about me.  I keep remembering how hard the last one was.  I keep remembering how well trained my running buddies were who were on pace to qualify until mile 20, and then ran in to injury.  I keep thinking that somehow, magically, those long runs will not be painful if I'm properly trained - but they still hurt - so maybe I'm not training right.  I worry that I will end up injured afterwards, like my 1/2 marathon I ran so fast.  Mentally, I'm all over the place.  Mentally, I'm not sure that I'm ready.

So where does that leave me?  I don't have the answer.  I'm just going to keep on training and see if I can start to build the confidence to give it a real shot.  Or I'll keep on training and come to the conclusion that Eugene is a nice training run for an ultra.   I'm hoping to see some advice on TiART today that will address this mental issue - advice how to keep going when you are afraid.  If anyone has ideas, I'm listening!

Oh Nooooo! Or How I Missed the Boat on This Post

For some reason, I thought this week's post was all about marathon training.  So I diligently wrote up my ideas for how I'm going to train for my next marathon and posted them this morning.  But I just realized that training isn't the topic of this TiART at all.  I think I've logged a few too many miles this week . . .

So what is it that draws me to the marathon?  It started as one of those big goals on my life list.  Doing a marathon sounded really cool.  You're tough if you can do one, I reasoned, and I wanted to prove that I was tough.  I had done a few longer runs, though no actual 1/2 marathons, but I thought I could pull one off.  About that time my husband and I decided we wanted to start a family, and as I switched gears, the marathon goal started to fade a bit.  But as the months went by without getting pregnant, I started to get a little crazy.  I gave myself an ultimatum - I would do the Portland Marathon in October if I wasn't pregnant.  Nevermind that I wasn't training.  If I couldn't get my body to work the way it was supposed to, then I could at least do a marathon.  I even went so far as to sign up for the race; I still have my confirmation card.  But I was lucky and found out I was pregnant just a few weeks before the race.

And so that goal kept floating around in the back of my mind.  I started running after my first daughter was born and worked up to a 1/2.  Daughter #2 came along and the running continued.  I started getting stronger and running farther, and finally, at one summer barbecue, my little brother and I declared that we were going to do Portland that fall.  My lack of training is chronicled in the post below, as is the excruciating pain that went along with my first experience.

Still, here I am training again.  I have unfinished business with the marathon.  I want to run the whole thing.  I want to see how fast I can go.  I'd love to qualify for Boston some day.  There are so many beautiful marathons to run, and for some reason, a marathon seems like a good enough reason to travel to a new locale.  A 10k just doesn't seem worthy of a vacation.

The marathon pushes me beyond my comfort level.  I can't coast when I'm training for one (properly, anyway) - I've got to concentrate and give it my full attention.  And in a world where it seems like everything is clamoring to be heard, having myself fully in the moment as I am when I'm running long is a gift.  I guess that's why I'm drawn to the marathon.

Marathon Training: The Speculative Edition

I wish that I could say I had all the answers for marathon training.  I wish I could say that I had any answers for marathon training. But the truth of the matter is that I have not had much luck with the marathon distance to date.  I have only survived one.  I won't say that I ran it, because a lot of it was a painful shuffle that surprised me with its intensity.  This photo says it best:

Me near mile 20 in the Portland Marathon, 2007

I've finally mustered enough courage to try another one.  And because I had such a tough first experience, I have a few ideas about what I'm going to differently that I hope will help.  

For my first try, I knew the marathon was going to be tough.  Duh.  But I had no idea that the training would be tough as well.  The first 16 miler I did was my last.  I just couldn't get it together to go out and run any further.   I hit the training wall.  I did one more 13 miler, and that was it.  No more running.  I had a 3 week taper of no running.  Not once.  Probably not the best plan for maximum performance.

And now I know that if I don't keep running, the walking is going to hurt just as bad as the running.  That was another big surprise for me.  Once your legs are cooked, they're cooked.  For any type of movement.  So you might as well train and suffer for less time just because you are moving faster.  Now that I know that training will be tough, I've got a few ideas about how to keep me going:

1.  I've enlisted friends.

Having company for the long run is key.  This was made all too clear to me last Saturday when I had to do a 14 miler by myself, since my friends were all running a 1/2 marathon the next day.  I had so much anxiety about that run; I could hardly sleep.  But if I'm getting up to meet my friends for an 18 miler, I don't even think about what I'm going to be doing.  I'm just excited to catch up with them and drink coffee afterwards.  I feel the run, but it isn't the same.

2. I've given myself enough time.

Part of my problem with Portland, is that I decided to go for it in July.  The marathon is in October, and between that time was a relay race that I couldn't give up.  I only had time to do maybe one 20 miler if I stuck to my plan, and really, the more of those you can do, the better off you're going to be.  Many plans recommend 4 prior to the race week.  When you factor in the ramping up you need to do to get there (no more than a 10% increase on your long run mileage if you're going to be really cautious), it takes a long time.  I will have about 24 weeks of training with the marathon in mind by the time I get there. 

3. I've got longer runs in mind.

I've got this crazy idea that I should try an ultra - a race longer than the marathon.  Because I'm thinking that way, I'm rethinking my goals for the marathon.  An ultra is about going the distance more than the speed with which you cover it, and when I start thinking that way, spending a couple of hours running changes in my mind.  I have a real issue with wanting to go too fast, which leads to injury in my case, and so with this subtle shift, I may have found the key to being able to go long.  I went out pretty fast in my first marathon, and I know I burnt myself out by not pacing well.  If I can find my rhythm - my long pace - I can run a better race for the entire distance.  I hope.

4. I'm finding inspiration from long runners.

There's nothing like reading about ultramarathoners to give you a quick shot of humility.  As I whined my way through my 14 miler the other day, I was thinking about the H.U.R.T. 100 in Hawaii - 14 miles is just a warm up in that race.  And not only is it 100 miles long, it's on hilly, bumpy, root covered terrain in the warm rainforest of Oahu.  I was only chugging up a mild incline on a smooth sidewalk in 40º weather.  What did I have to whine about?

There are some really interesting books out there by these runners.  When I'm recovering from a long run, it's a nice way to recharge my engine and give me the boost I need to face the next week in running.

And so there you have it.  The things I'm going to try this time around to see if I can have more success in the marathon distance.  You can bet I'll be reading all the great advice on TiART this week!

Community

Having a group to run with has been the biggest boon to my running.  Hands down, the friendly faces I meet up with on Sunday mornings have been the singlemost effective training aid I have ever had.  More than properly fitting shoes, well timed energy gel, or the looming spectre of a race I've entered and now need to run, those guys and gals have taken my running to a new level.

This was made all too painfully clear last weekend when I chose to run 14 miles on my own rather than kill myself at a 1/2 marathon the rest of them were attending.  I tried to talk myself out of the run, I worried about it, I even questioned why I really wanted to run in the first place.  This never happens when I meet them on Sunday morning.  "Sure," I'll say, "I can do 18 miles.  Just don't want to run by myself."  

So I was thrilled to learn that the little town of Fossil, Oregon, is creating a community of their own around the Biggest Loser show on NBC.  When one local office decided to start a Biggest Loser challenge, they put a notice in the local paper.  To their surprise, 66 people, or 15% of the town's population, showed up for the first weigh in.  Early in the evening, 20 to 30 people gather together to work out.  They've even started a pool for the top losers.  And local businesses are getting in on the act by donating gift certificates for the winners.   

For people to change their lives, they have to come together in community.  Knowing that others are going through the same struggles and challenges will make them stronger.  I have no doubt that the people in Fossil will have more success with this journey than they would have if they tried it alone.  We talk a lot about the obesity epidemic in America, but maybe it's an epidemic of loneliness.  We try too hard to do things on our own.  When we come together, we can achieve even more.

This blogging community that I am just coming to know is the same way.  I've been a long time lurker, but I've finally decided to share what I write and think about.  It's scary, but at the same time, it is exciting.  I love reading about what other runners are doing in their training and in their lives.  Knowing that I'm not the only person who goes a little bit crazy when I can't hit the roads, or that hitting the point that I can't run another long run before the marathon is actually sort of normal, helps me to keep on challenging myself.   Helps me to get over the roadbumps that come with anything that is difficult.

So to all of the bloggers who have been generous enough to share their stories and their inspiration, thank you.  You have built an incredible community.  To the inspirational folks in Fossil, good luck.  Keep on supporting each other; you can do it.  And finally, to my fellow running buddies, thank you , thank you, thank you for letting me join you.  You guys are awesome.

Speed Signs

I am a big fan of The Office. For runners, the Fun Run episode is classic.  But last week's episode featured something close to my heart - racing the speed sign (it's in the opening scene). There's something about the challenge of those giant numbers staring me down that I can't resist.  I have to pick up the pace and see how high I can get.  The best sign for me is on Boones Ferry Rd, heading down the hill.  Traffic is usually light, and the incline is perfect for going fast.  I haven't done an all-out sprint yet, but it's coming.  So yeah, that probably makes me a dork.  Oh well.

Half Marathon Training

When I first began running, I felt I was a superstar for doing 10ks.  I rocked the Hood to Coast with . . . gasp . . . 15 miles of running spread out over three legs!  And when I went out for my one, and only, long run of 12 miles, I was stoked.  I was a runner.  I was amazing.  And then I had my first kid.

Sixty pounds later, I realized that I needed to start running again.  And sticking to the occasional 10k probably wasn't going to do it.  I needed to go long.  I started by setting my sights on a 15k - Portland's Shamrock Run.  Wow.  That wasn't easy.  But still, if I could pull off 9 miles up the big Terwilliger hill, I could do a 1/2 marathon.  Really.  Right?  And so I kept on running (which, thankfully, helped with the 60 pound problem), and I signed up for my first half marathon.

Making that kind of a commitment is a big deal.  Once you get out to the 1/2 marathon distance, you really can't fake the training.  Some of the things you read about runners talking really start to matter when you're going long.  Here are the most important ones I've found:

1.  You need to do the long run.

Running 3, 4 or 5 miles is just not enough to get your body ready to go 13.1.  You need to have one run a week that you stretch out, to a bare minimum of 9 miles.  Ideally, you will hit the 12 mile mark at least once before the race, and that's just to cover the distance successfully.  If you want to go fast, you've got to go that distance several times in the lead-up to your race.   The more you go long, the more your body adapts to the stress of the pounding of that many miles.  Everything becomes more efficient, and that's a good thing.  So even if the training plans you find just seem too intimidating, do the long run part of them.

2. You need proper gear.

If you're going to do a 1/2 marathon, you need to get fitted for shoes.  Period.  You can fake it over 5 or 6 miles, but once you start adding distance, every little ache and pain that your shoes cause will become magnified.  I was shocked to learn that I had been wearing shoes that were 1 whole size too small for over 8 years.  Improper shoes can cause all kinds of issues with your feet, calves, hips and knees.  It's worth it to go to a store that videotapes your gait and determines the best kind of shoe for how you run.  Another good investment is in BodyGlide - it looks like deodorant, but it is a greaseless version of Vaseline.  What doesn't chafe at 5 miles mostly likely will at 10!

3. Learn to fuel yourself.

I hated GU for a long time.  I would avoid the stuff like the plague.  I started to come around and drink water with added electrolytes after battling dehydration, but it wasn't until I found a GU flavor that I loved that I learned how much a shot of carbohydrates can help.  Now when I run for over an hour and half, I make sure to take some GU at the halfway point so that I don't bonk.  But you definitely want to experiment before race day.  I have had friends who have ruined their races because they tried something new race morning.  Head down to the local running store or REI and pick up a couple of flavors/brands and figure out what works best for your stomach.

4. Find a good sports chiropractor/physical therapist/massage therapist.

The thing with going longer is that as you increase your mileage, you are bound to have some new aches and pains.  You definitely want to follow the 10% rule (don't increase your mileage/long run more than 10% per week), but if you are like most of us who are willing to admit it, you'll probably end up breaking that rule in your new found enthusiasm!  Finding a provider that you trust and that can help you find strengthening exercises, stretches and so forth will help you tremendously.  I have had friends give up on their training programs because injuries and soreness have started to crop up as they pushed out the miles.  Most likely, they could have managed most of those injuries with the help of a good professional.  You'd be amazed to learn how weaknesses in different muscle groups can end up meaning IT band problems, sore knees and a host of other problems.  

These are only starting points.  There are many more things to think about as you begin to train, but as I've ramped up my miles, these four things seem to be key in keeping me healthy and moving.  But the best thing about doing a 1/2 marathon is that you really start taking yourself seriously as a runner, and that can be an incredible feeling.  Good luck!

2009 Eugene Marathon

I'm getting closer to signing up and committing for real. I've printed out the form, reserved a hotel room, and now I just need to write a check and send it in. Previewing the course made it all the more real. It's just getting through that darn training that has me freaked out . . .


Eugene Marathon Course 2009 Flyover Version 2 from Brian Flindt on Vimeo.

Understanding Sweat

I sweat when I run.  A lot.  Often as much, or more, than the men I sometimes run with.  I've learned not to wear gray shorts on a warm day, and I struggle to drink enough to keep me hydrated when I run during the summer.  But what does all this sweat mean?  Am I healthy?  Freakish? Efficient at cooling?  I was tired of not knowing the answers to these questions, so I decided to do a little digging and get to the bottom of this sweaty situation.

First of all, sweating is good.  The evaporation of sweat from our bodies is our defense against heat stress, which will lead to cardiovascular issues and all kinds of other nasty problems if not controlled by a good sweat response.  But it is the evaporation, and not the act of sweating itself, that is important.  This is why people struggle on a humid day - the humidity reduces the evaporation level, which makes our mechanism for cooling less efficient.  We might sweat like crazy on a humid day, but still suffer from heat illness if the sweat can't do its job. 

Our fitness levels do affect our sweating.  As our fitness levels (as measured by VO2 max) increase, the onset of our sweat response occurs earlier.  Fit people have lower resting core temperatures, so our bodies will respond to an increase in temperature earlier than a person who is less fit.  Other factors in our sweat reponse include our hydration status (less water in the body = less sweat), our exercise intensity, environmental factors (like heat) and acclimatization.  Research has shown that people who live in warm climates have delayed sweat responses; their bodies will not begin producing sweat until their core temperatures are higher than what a person who does not live in a warm climate.

We can acclimate to warmer temperatures.  This typically takes about 5 days, and it is recommended that we spend time exercising in the heat and making sure that we sweat profusely.  For more information on acclimatizing, check out this article. 

So we know that sweating is good, and that the earlier we sweat, the more we fit we really are.  But what about sweat volume?  Is more better?  Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case.  Sweat rates look to be fairly individual, and what you sweat out is the same way.  Some people are "salty runners", leaving a crusty, white residue on their skin as the sweat evaporates (that's me).  And because a heavy volume ends up costing you valuable hydration, big sweaters have more issues with keeping fluid and electrolyte levels in balance.   It would seem to be to your advantage to sweat efficiently - just enough to keep you cooled, but not enough to wipe out your reserves.  And it's something we don't really seem to be able to control.

So what is a big sweater to do?  Awareness appears to be the key.  A good way to find out how much you sweat is to perform the following test:  Weigh yourself before heading out on a 1 hour run.  Do not take in any fluids after the weigh-in or during the run.  When you get back, weigh yourself again, and find the difference in weight.  Divide that number by 2.1 - this is the number of quarts you need to drink to replace the lost fluid.   Once you know that you sweat a lot, you can do all you can to keep hydrated and to replace lost electrolytes with drinks like Nuun or GU2O.  For more information on hydration, Runners World has some great articles.

And so now I know.  I'm healthy, but I also sweat alot without any extra benefit.  Now if I can just remember to wear the dark shorts . . .

Facing Down the Distance

In my more optimistic moments, I imagine myself running a 50k. When I'm on the verge of madness, I see myself running it effortlessly, quickly, not unlike the incredible athletes that grace the covers of Trailrunner magazine. Poring over books and articles, I am enthralled by what it takes to go the distance. And while I imagine myself in the 50k, it is the 50 miler or the 100 miler that really captures my attention. Could I pull something like that off? What does it take to go that distance?

When I mention casually to friends that I am thinking of doing a marathon, I am met with approval and enthusiasm. Throw out the word "ultra" though, and it's a whole new story. "You're crazy!" is the most common response. "Really?" comes in a close second. And it leads me to wondering what I'm really drawn to in this sport that I have yet to try.

Is it the trails? I've always been drawn to the trails. When I first discovered that there was a trail leading from Canada to Mexico through the Cascades, I dreamed of covering the miles someday (on horseback during my horse phase). I've always loved hiking. One of my favorite trips came during the summer after my senior year in high school when I hiked partway around Mt Hood, lunching in Paradise Park and camping at Dollar Lake. So yes, the allure of trails certainly has something to do with it. I love the idea of covering long miles through the wilderness, but my success in falling on relatively clear trails leaves me a little concerned at the idea.

But I think more than the call of nature, what appeals to me in the ultra is the idea of challenging myself to see just how far I can go. I have done a marathon now - not very well trained and not very quickly - but could I go farther? How far can I go if I train hard and long? Is it more important to me to qualify for Boston or to push my limits? I suppose either one pushes my limits, but I find that the appeal of the ultra is probably more. There is a question in me as to what I'm made of. Will I bend or break? My hope is that I would bend, would find inner strength to get me through the physical challenge, but perhaps no. If I were to break, to fail, it would be far more profound than if I am unable to qualify for Boston. So many reasons that a 3:45 might not happen on race day. Not life-changing. Not really.

Still, it is scary as hell to contemplate such a thing. It might be easier to keep running within these easy limits. For now, I'll just keep staring down those miles, daring them to answer.

Training Plan Dos (for TIaRT)

Training plans. Two words that can strike fear into the carefree, fun-loving runner who wants nothing more than to hit the road on her own schedule, at her own pace, on her own terms. Two words that can mean the difference between achieving a PR and being grossly unprepared. I've never been very good at following a training plan, but I've learned some things along the way from these plans that have helped me improve my running. Here they are:

Do allow extra time to train.
I think it is useful to add at least a week to your training plan. Life has a habit of happening despite your best plans to stay on target. You get sick. You get hurt. You have an opportunity to sneak out of town and drink with your friends. When you give yourself the minimal time to prepare for a race, it is super easy to run off course and get behind. Once you are behind, it is really tempting to scratch your plans all together. But with some cushion weeks, you give yourself the opportunity to catch up. I tried my first marathon with only 12 weeks to train. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I needed at least 16 - but probably more like 20 to really get in the runs I needed to if I wanted to do well.

Do run the long runs for the marathon.
It might seem obvious, but once you get in to the thick of the training plans with 3 - 20 milers staring at you in the face, you start to bargain with yourself. I was sure that my one 16 miler was enough. I threw in another 13 miler, figuring that if I could get through the first half easily, I would be fine. Wrong. There is a reason that training plans have so many long runs in them. Your body needs to learn how to be on its feet for so long. Your muscles and tendons begin to adapt to the stress, and your metabolism learns how to use fat for energy. For a great review of what the long run will do for you, check out this article. If you don't do the long runs, you might finish the marathon, but it won't be pretty. What surprised me most was how much walking hurt.

Do listen to your body.
It can be so tough to take a rest day on a day you are scheduled for a run, but if you feel a pain that feels like the beginning of an injury - rest. The way a marathon trainer friend of mine puts it is, "6 days, 6 weeks or 6 months." If you catch an injury early, you might only have to take 6 days off. Keep pushing through the pain, the injury has a good chance of getting worse. What might have healed up quickly can become chronic. Most of us don't plan on running only for a short time. So we have to take the long view of our training.

Do forgive yourself if you don't follow the plan exactly.
Give yourself permission to move runs around. I like to combine training plans and create my own, factoring in vacations, races I want to do, and other scheduling conflicts. There seems to be a few basic elements in any training plan - a long run, a run with some speed or hills, and rest or easy days between hard workouts. There is much variety in the way that you can put the plan together, but I find that working with my own personal schedule allows me to be much more successful in following a plan. It wasn't until I gave myself permission to stray from the program that I began to actually stick with one.

That being said, I've already strayed from my marathon training program this year. I am using it as a guideline, but I am letting my body lead the way in determining what the day should bring. I will make sure that I hit the number of long runs in the schedule, even if they don't happen on the exact day they are planned for. I will also try to hit the weekly mileage targets, and I will do my best to follow the 3 weeks hard, 1 week easy guideline. We'll see how the rest of the plan works out . . .

Wet. Wet. Wet.

One of my favorite artists for listening to when I really need to crank up the pace is Andrew W.K. Yeah, his album cover is ugly, his songs all sound the same, but you can't beat the bpm he cranks out. And the tunes are catchy - it works.

So today, as I slogged through the rain, I couldn't help but think of his song "I Get Wet." Sure, that's probably not what he meant, but man, the rain was pouring. I watched sheets of water blow sideways across the field, and then I ran through that same wind myself, wondering when I would achieve liftoff. Still, there was a part of me grinning from ear to ear. There's nothing like a good battle with the elements to lift your spirits, especially if you win.

I've seen people asking for advice as to how to keep running through the winter. I suppose it all comes down to attitude. If you can think about your run as a battle, or as a really good story you can tell later that evening, it's much easier to face. When your mind just keeps whining over and over about the cold, the wet, or the ice, you're gonna lose. That's why I did so poorly during the snow, I think. My mind couldn't get past the whining. And so I didn't head out.

I'm much more comfortable in the rain. Getting used to conditions certainly helps. Growing up in Oregon, I had no other choice. Soccer games were never cancelled for rain, snow, or wind. Lightning maybe. Sliding around in the mud was half the fun. So I bring that attitude with me in the rain, and it makes it easier. I like a good soaking. I feel tough. But I've run in the rain hundreds of times, so it isn't anything new. Now. It wasn't always that way. It gets easier with time.

So I guess the key to running through the winter is to just do it. You've got to push yourself past your internal objections and then look for the joy in the new type of workout. Out of difficulty comes growth, right? After my first snow run, I was eager for more. But I wanted the snow to be just like the snow I ran in the first time. No slush, no ice. Next time, I'll just make myself go so I get used to those conditions. Eventually, I should be able to run in anything. Right?

Fascinating Reading

I'm a reader. I think I might have been born with a book in my hand. At the tender age of 8, I decided I would try and read every single book in my school library, and while I did not accomplish that ambitious goal, I did manage to make a good dent in the collection. In college, I loved reading so much that I chose English as my major, imagining that I could pass on my love of literature to high school students. So inspired by my teaching, they would read widely and well, and wander off in to their glorious futures with the fond memory of their English teacher. Yeah, right. Two weeks in the classroom before even entering the formal education program, and I was convinced that teaching high school wasn't for me. I went in to marketing instead.

That doesn't mean that I lost my love of reading though. Lately I have taken to nonfiction adventure, living vicariously through writers who have swum in the Antarctic, run past limits I can only dream of, and climbed big mountains. I am inspired and awed by the feats that individuals choose to undertake. Their stories keep me moving and dreaming.

My latest read was an impulse pick from the local library. Last Breath: Cautionary Tales from the Limits of Human Endurance, by Peter Stark, a writer for Outside magazine, is a fascinating look at the science behind common ways one can die while pursuing extreme sports. Combining stories of people meeting fates including hypothermia, heat exhaustion, dehydration and even scurvy with explanations of the way the body operates in these circumstances, Stark weaves a deft and fascinating portrait of untimely death. I wasn't sure if I was going to enjoy such a bleak book, but I found myself unable to put it down.

I feel like I've just been through a crash course on survival and first aid, though I am sure that faced with any of those situations, what seems so stark in my mind right now would become a blur. But I do know that if I'm heading out on an adventure, I need to make darn sure I bring a good source of vitamin C. I need to watch out for the C. Fleckeri jellyfish when I'm in Australia, and I better be sure I take my antimalaria pills when I'm in malaria country. But I also learned that I will actually stay cooler if I keep my body covered in the sun (which explains the long-sleeved UV protection running shirts), and if I am running out of water, it really isn't going to help me that much to horde my water.

Highly recommended for adventure and science junkies who want to learn more about the physiological responses to these deadly situations -