I’m engaged! Wooo! (My mom already asked me if we’ve set a date and we’ve been engaged for literally 8 minutes).
Onto the stuff! Aside from your sports bra, I feel like your GPS watch can be one of the most important tools you have. It tracks pace, distance, and all that good stuff that become paramount during marathon training. I actually cried when I got mine as a gift last birthday because I was so overjoyed to, one, be in possession of such a tool, and 2, have gotten it for free (that ish’s spensive, y’all!)
So I think I told you guys, the wristband on my Garmin 610 had fouled up back before I ran the marathon in March, and Garmin sent me a little replacement kit, no problem, just in time for my marathon. So imagine my surprise when I looked down at my wrist before Zumba last week, and the wristband was starting to pull away from the watch again?! I called Garmin, sat on hold for 10 years, and explained to them what was going on. I love the watch, but this just won’t work.
“Maybe you have a thin wrist.”
Dude. I love my Garmin, but the techies over there should have figured out by now that runners, a lot of us, are thin-wristed little birdies. But, all of that aside, they agreed to send me a refurbed watch sometime soon. So over the next week or so, I’ll be “running naked,” training by mapping out my distances ahead of time, and running without any true indication of pace. That’s okay, I think it’s dangerous to get totally locked in to staring at your watch, but I miss it dearly. I’ll be on the lookout for the mailman every day til that watch shows up!
So, I started training for the Greensboro Marathon this week. I’m about 17 weeks out, so the mileage is totally manageable, but the “training” has been fraught with tragedy.
Got it, Kim.
But I caught some sort of stomach bug and have been queasy since last weekend, a little dehydrated, and it’s made these short, humid, hilly little runs a little challenging. I’ve done them. But it’s been hard. So that little bit of doubt starts to creep in. If I can’t even get through 5 miles without vomiting, how will I do 26.2?!
Chill, Cherisse. You’ve done one of these before. You have the stomach flu. And you’ll be better when you replace your fluids and electrolytes.
This week, my first week back at home in Raleigh, has been a whirlwind of working, teaching Zumba classes, adding new songs to my lineup, job things, and trying to reset my life here in Raleigh. Honestly, it was hard to leave my mom last Saturday morning, and I wish I didn’t have to. But she’s improving, and I can’t hang around my parents’ house forever, right? So my week in a few pitchurs.
The Greensboro Marathon. Oh guess who’s doing their second marathon in October? If you guessed Sydney Poitier, you guessed wrong. ME! I am doing the Greensboro Marathon October 26th, after I searched both high and low for a race I could do (within financial reason) this fall! The race starts in Elon (which obviously, I’m obsessed with because I went there, duh,), and ends in downtown Greensboro. I’m hoping for a little bit prettier weather than the marathon I did last spring, and I’m better prepped for how boring life will get around mile 17. I can do this! Hang in there for marathon posts, I’m sure there will be a TON.
Zucchini Fire. It’s zucchini season in good ol’ NC, and I’ve come into possession of several humongous zucchini weanies. I had to find a way to cook them. And what other way than grating them into some zucchini bread? Well, me being the domestic goddess that I am, I overfilled my bread pans, and they leaked into the oven, where they started a fire in my kitchen. Not kidding. I was literally using my lungs to put it out in a desperate effort to save my bread. The bread was saved, and I only had to spend like 89 hours scrubbing the oven out with a piece of steel wool. #Winning.
Headstand victory. My yoga teacher, the young little Emily Wallace down at Indigo Hot Yoga, let us play around with a few headstands today, and instructed us, step-by-step, on how to get up into one. I got up, and was able to stay up for a few seconds. Do I need more work? Yes. Do I need to get a little more consistent in my practice to continue to see progress, and to continue being a Bendy Wendy, even when I train for this marathon? Absolutely. But it felt good, and it took my mind off of serious stuff to be able to work out my core and stay up in a headstand for a while.
So we know that exercise is important for everyone, right? But how to we get everyone addicted to it (in a healthy way, not a scary way), like, how do we get folks started? I think you have to take what you really enjoy, and use that to jump you into working out. Am I making sense?
Case in point. I started going to Zumba classes with my younger sister when I was like 16. I was instantly hooked. We went every Tuesday afternoon that we could. And I fell off of the Zumba boat when I went to college. Toward the end of college, when I started feeling a little self-conscious about my body (I wasn’t working out or eating well at all) I picked up going to classes again, and decided that I was going to get licensed. And the decision to get licensed completely changed the trajectory of my life. Zumba was my “gateway drug,” and I explored different class formats that I may not have even considered. I yoga, I run, I run, I run, I cycle, I zumba, I dance, I lift, and I wouldn’t have begun to do any of it without Zumba.
Pole fitness is the same for a lot of women.
I teach off-the-pole classes at a local pole fitness studio, Aradia Fitness in Cary, NC. On this particular day last week, I was supposed to teach a Zumba class, and it was a perfect storm. My classes are normally pretty packed, but no one showed up. Not a soul. It happens. I’m not offended. Heather, an extremely experienced pole dancer and teacher, invited me to stay at the studio and jump in on her Pole 1 class, an intro of sorts to pole fitness. I was apprehensive. I don’t know how to do any of that stuff, and what if the other girls laughed at me and told their friends that their Zumba instructor had transformed into a buffalo and crashed around the room, breathing heavily, and sweating all over everything? But I figured it was nice of Heather to invite me, and instead of being a weirdo, I’d take her up.
First things first? Heather is an incredible teacher. I’m gonna toot my own horn here. I’m a good teacher. And it’s only because I learned from the absolute best. I had Koh Herlong, I had Lindsay Gilvin, I had Austin Samples. All great teachers. Good teachers recognize it in others. Heather had it. We started with a cute warm-up, and as the class progressed, the workout turned a little more sexy. Sexy walks, hip circles, hamstring stretches. We took it to the floor. Push-ups, more hip-flexor warm-ups, warm ups for our wrists, for our necks. It was funny, everything Heather did and taught looked really sexy, especially when she did it, but everything had a purpose.
Next, we got on the poles.
We started with a little dance, and each move was cued by Heather. Then, we did some pole work. Spins, climbs, and even some more advanced work. My poor knees were so banged up, but on the pole, my arms, my quads, and my legs were getting an awesome workout. And the next day, my abs, my arms, and my legs were sore. In a great way.
So my review? If you’re having trouble getting motivated? And you have the funds? Try a pole fitness class. It’s a great confidence builder. Unlike other group fitness classes, there are no mirrors in the studios, and the classes are much smaller. Where some of my classes have held upwards of 100 people, there were about 6 of us girls, which allowed for individual time with the teacher, and if you’re feeling awkward, you don’t have to stare at yourself in the mirror. Heather, speaking of, was so talented, and obviously had benefited from her time in pole fitness. She was jacked!
So this place gets at A+ from me. Facility is gorgeous, classes are great, and I felt so pretty after! And if you’re feeling apprehensive, like you feel like you’re just going to some skanky stripping class, think again. Every single move in the class had a purpose. There wasn’t a dance, there wasn’t a spin, there wasn’t a move that didn’t have a specific purpose, which I only picked up on because I teach. But to the untrained bod, you may just think you’re dancing around. And hey, if you can burn calories just thinking you’re dancing around with 6 of your friends around a pole, then more power to your workout, right?
I officially had to let go of the Taurus yesterday, btws.
I actually whimpered as the tow truck driver, an actually ridiculously nice man, of Ochoa towing, pulled out from behind the transmission building with my poor car on the back. I had to go in and retrieve my Barry Manilow tickets from the glove box. And then I said good bye to the car that took me through high school and beyond. RIP Taurus. You served us so exceptionally well.
Okay, so to commemorate 100 posts, I have to make public the ridiculous thing that’s been floating around in my head for three years. Almost three years ago, during my first stint working as a Zumba instructor at camp in PA (more on that in the future, but camp is amazing), I was enthralled by Lindsay Birchfield’s blue jacket. I didn’t know anything about running, about races, about what I was capable of. The blue jacket was actually a jacket from the Boston Marathon, and I decided then and there, that I would run that race so I could wear that jacket.
My first marathon was slow. But now that I have my first taste, I want to work a little, no, a lot, harder and qualify for that race. So what I have to shave over an hour off my marathon time (eek!). Stranger things have happened right? So today, I’ll say this. I’ve done one marathon. I’m planning one more in the fall, I’ll train a little harder, and get a baseline for where I am. Once I do that? We need to get this Boston ball rolling! Who’s in?
This question was actually texted to me by a good friend, Taylor Doe. I friggin love technology
Taylor is a schoolteacher from Colorado. We met during an audition for our college a cappella audition (yes, I sang a cappella, and I’m damn proud of it), and we became fast friends. Taylor just completed her first half marathon, the Disney Princess Half, in February, and though she’s a devout worshiper of the Church of the Boston Red Sox, we’ve been able to put our differences aside and continue in harmony.
Taylor Doe
So onto the question!
I’d be lying to you if I told you I’ve completely mastered the art of the water stop. (For those of you new to racing, the water stop is a table, usually staffed by race or community volunteers, who hold out dixie cups of water, and sometimes Gatorade, for runners of a race. The more miles? The more stops!) A few factors make the water stop difficult. One, you never are quite sure what side of the road the stop is going to be on. Once you figure it out, there isn’t a blinker tattooed on your butt, telling the runners behind you you’re switching lanes, so it can be kind of a cluster moving over without tripping up someone behind you. Two, once you get there, a little girl is handing you this cup of water that you’re supposed to drink while jogging? And then you try to politely litter while a disgruntled Boy Scout glares at you from behind his ice scraper that’s doubling as a dixie wax cup scraper by tossing it gently onto the nearest sidewalk. It’s tricky!
So here’s what I figured out. When you’re racing and you’re trying to get water at a water stop:
Try and look ahead to see where the stop is. The further out you have it figured out, the smarter you can be about getting over to the table. Then, reach your hand out and firmly grab the water. That sounds ridiculous, but you totally have to commit. If you don’t you may end up spilling a cup of water all over a little girl in 50-degree beach-windy weather. Like I did. 😦 If the cup is too full for you to take a shot, dump a little out on the ground, slightly crumple the cup, and toss it back like a shot. Commit to it, or you’ll choke. If you need more? Grab another cup, and do the same. But there is nothing more miserable than trying to toss back a cup of too-full water or Gatorade.
My last bit of advice? Turn your shocks on while you’re cruising the water stop. What I mean? This isn’t the time to start galloping about like a great big horse. Smooth your jog down, and commit to that cup!
I won’t lie to you and tell you I felt (physically) like a million bucks after. In fact, the day after, I felt quite horrid. Not like anything was hurt, I’ll-never-walk-again horrid, but like, quads were like ::side eye:: hips were like what in the world?!
Three days out and I feel great. I did a little walk/jog thing on the treadmill last night to get the juices flowing. I’m ready for a really short, easy run today, and nothing more. But I’m so ready to sign up for another. SO ready. So ready to do better with my time. So ready to plan out better. So ready to take an extra day off work so I can actually enjoy the beer they give you after. So ready to bring a few more friends and let them get addicted to it (in a good way) like I am! So ready for better weather (here’s hoping) for the next one!
So I’m not sure when. But soonish. I’d like to take on this beast again.
If you’re thinking about running a marathon, and you’re kind of playing around with the idea, DO IT. It’s like the best feeling of accomplishment next to graduating with a Masters or an undergraduate degree after a long hard road. It’s like you work toward it, you work toward it, and OH LOOK! Now it’s here, and you finally get to see your hard work pay off. It’s really neat. So a few marathon tips, and a little insight into Shamrock?
Post-race, they gave us all blankets for the trek home!
You need a hotel? Get one that’s walkable. Now’s not the time to be getting yourself a motel in the hood. Because you’re gonna be feeling some type of way when you finish, only to realize that you paid to park in a sketchy parking lot, and that you’ve got to ride around, smelling like a locker room, to the Sundial Inn, or worse, the Motel 6. Just spring for the extra.
Bring a friend. If you can convince someone to do it with you, I think that makes it way better, and the two of you can encourage each other. You and aforementioned homie don’t need to be pace buds, but even to check into the hotel with, to eat a few meals with, to walk around the expo, and to encourage each other is fun and fine! I brought Jenny, who was quite a bit faster than I am, but we bounced some good energy between the two of us, and it worked out!
Aquaphor.
My only battle scar (because I Aquaphored) was a welt from the seaming in my tights. Once I realized what was going on, I was 20 miles in, and it was too late for me to be messing with my leg.
Be prepared for things to go not exactly how you planned them out in your head on race day. You do everything you’re supposed to. That doesn’t mean the weather or the course will. The weather this weekend, quite frankly, sucked a big fat one. It was beautiful and breezy on Saturday. On race day? Overcast, cold, and a few rain drops, though the rain held off until after we scooted. The course also was a little longer than 26.2 miles, which I’m investigating right now. Oh well, you can’t do anything about it once you’re in the thick of the race, right? So just solider on!
We were crossing our fingers and praying for some good weather, but we didn’t get it. Oh well! At least the rain held off. It was rather freezing and windy, though!
Throwaway clothing. Not kidding. These cheap articles of clothing are going to save. Your. Life. Over the top of my adorable little green cap-sleeved tech shirt and compression 3/4 length pantaloons, I threw this horrific hoodie with holes in it over the top, as well as a slouchy pair of sweats. I was able to, in the pocket of the hoodie, put some hotties, to keep my Raynaud’s-afflicted hands warm while we stood around and waited for the elites and the first corral to get moving. I had gloves as well, which were thrown away around 20-some-odd miles because I could not get them back on my hands. Oh well. RIP Brooks gloves. You served me well this past winter. But someone else is enjoying you now.
Be sweet to the volunteers, cause they’re gonna be so sweet to you! I understand why these road races cost so much. They put a LOT into them to make sure that we’re rolling relatively comfortably for 26+ miles. The volunteers stood out in the freezing cold for close to 5.5 hours, holding little cups of water, Gatorade, bananas, cookies, and gels to make sure we could cruise successfully. They clapped, they cheered, and at the end, stood out on the even-colder beach to make sure I was given a finishers medal and a wonderfully warm fleece blanket. My hands were too cold to open the packaging my blanket came in at the end and a volunteer busted open the package and turned me around to put it on my shoulders. As a final note, my apologies to the little girl who I spilled water on. Total accident.
Draw on the strength of your friends, family, and other well-wishers. You’re gonna need it. Play their voices in your head. Think about your mom. Think about your friends. Think about the random folks who’ve wished you well. Think of your ancestors. Think of how hard you worked, and draw strength. That will get you through. I have to give a very special shout-out to all the folks at Fleet Feet, Jenny, Kerry, Vinny, Austin, Alexa, Andrew, Erin, Taylor, Liz, Maggie, Mark, Christopher, Chelsie, my Mom, and Melanie. An extra special thanks to Jerry, my co-worker, with the southern accent, whose voice kept playing over and over and over in my head.
Be prepared. You’re gonna see a lot of poop, and a lot of public urination. I only tell you this so you’re not a total weirdo and staring when you see a guy in an Adidas track suit about face, step only a foot away from you, and whip his stuff out. Avert your eyes, and keep it moving.
Register! You’re not gonna understand it until you register. Do it, and you will be amazed at what your body is capable of doing.
The final score. Already planning on what I can do a little better next time 🙂
Overactive Blogger 