Author: mrsartis

This is one of my favorite races ever. I love it. I have a mad crush on the mid-distance stuff, races that happen inside the city of Pittsburgh, and I have been with this race since it’s inaugural run. I LOVE it and look forward to it every year.

This year was no exception. The first year I ran this race I set the PR of 1:55:29. The next couple years were rough so I finished but they weren’t nearly as good, and I was okay with it, but the times were well over 2 hours. Last year I rolled in at 2:25:56. When I started running again this year, my goal was to come back in under 2 hours, I didn’t care if it was 1:59:59, I just needed to be under 2. At the time that felt tough but doable. Flash forward a few months and I run a 10-mile training run in 1:57. New goal: Beat my PR. Again, shaving off 2 minutes–tough but doable. Then my buddy and I went out last week and he pushed me beyond what I thought I could do and I came in at 1:52:29. The flood gates opened (see my post from last Wednesday if you’re just joining us now), anything felt possible. So I set a steeper goal for myself 1:50. I knew that I was going to PR no matter what, so that was ultimately enough for me, but I needed to put something scary out there and see if I could pull it off.

(me before the race)

I was pumped, I was ready, I genuinely believed I could do this, and I approached the race as such. For the first half or more of the race I was on track to do it, too–my splits were all 11 or better. But around mile 8 I just started to fall apart. I never stopped running. I ran every single step of this race, I didn’t walk for a second, but I slowed down a lot. I wanted to walk but I wouldn’t let myself, I knew that it wouldn’t end well, I knew I would lose too much time, and I knew that it would be that much harder for me to try to get myself to run again if I broke the little bit of momentum I had. I talked myself through it, recited that Marianne Williamson quote out loud–which oddly works as my pace picked up when I was going through the recitation, so maybe my buddy is onto something–and just kept going. I saw 1:49 pass, and 1:50, but the finish wasn’t too far off. So I dug deep and powered through to the finish. 1:52: 04–not the steep goal, but a definite PR (-3 minutes 25 seconds!) and faster than the previous week by 25 seconds. And I ran every step, which I haven’t been able to say since August 2013.

(finisher’s medal)

I’m not gonna lie–I was a little disappointed that I didn’t meet my goal, especially because I was on pace to do it for so much of the race. But I can say this–I left it all on the course. My husband said I was basically a zombie when I crossed the line, and I know I had nothing left to give. I did my best and that’s all I could do. And I just need to keep moving forward and decide what my goal is for the next set of races next year. How far can I push myself now that I know there is no limit?

I have a few more races to finish out the year, but they’re mostly for fun–holiday themed races and such, but nothing I’ll take too seriously. I still can’t wait…I love to race.

Happy Monday.

This will be quick since I poured my heart out a couple of days ago and there’s not much else to say until I get through my race on Sunday. Scale was down, not significantly, but after a month of yo-yoing in the same 3 pound range I’ll take it. That month of yo-yoing is a victory in and of itself. I was less careful about food last month and managed to stay about the same–win, and proof that I can trust myself. It’s a process, I’m getting there.

Went for an impromptu run last night. It was supposed to be gross and rainy so I didn’t pack a bag, but it ended up being gorgeous, so I went home, changed, and went out. I’m officially that girl now, the one who runs with a headlamp. Need to get a reflector vest and/or other lights to make me a touch more visible. WHO AM I?

I’ve come so far since I first started running. I can’t wait to see where it takes me next.

Happy Weekend!

My big 10-mile race is this coming Sunday. One of my favorites, one that I do and have done every year. The one that used to mark the ‘end’ of my racing season each year. The one I set as my goal when I started running again in earnest this summer.

I wanted one more solid long run before I went into this race. After the last time I came in just over my previous PR, knowing I wasn’t trying very hard I felt confident enough that I would meet the second goal I set (the original goal was to come in under 2 hours, the second was to beat my PR), but I just wanted one more run. And as awesome as running has been for me lately, I also knew there was another level that I wasn’t even scratching the surface of and I couldn’t get there on my own. All the best athletes have coaches–that’s how you get better, that’s how you improve, you need someone to push and challenge you. I’m fortunate to have a buddy to step into that role when I need it.

So I headed out, and met up with one of my buddies, whom I hadn’t actually run with in forever. I’m usually resistant to running with people–when it comes to a group I have always lacked the confidence that I can keep up. I’ve never officially run with a pace group for that reason. And I’m an introvert–I have a hard time talking to people I don’t know, and I like getting lost in my music and my thoughts. So I tend to avoid it. When I run with this particular friend we each have our headphones on and we don’t talk much, so it’s a good match. Plus when I run solo, I’m in control, which I like. And as we started to run it was clear that I was not in control of this run. I had no say. I protested about the pace we started at. I was basically told to shut up, stop looking at my watch, my job was to run and breathe. Yup. Not in control. Which irritated me, but fine, whatever. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull this off, but the thing about running with him is that I won’t quit. I won’t do it. I don’t want to be the one to cave or show weakness. He’s a lot faster than me, and until this weekend, I would’ve argued he’s a ‘better’ runner–but he also knows me well, he knows how to push my buttons, and somehow when we’re running I become competitive with him. I don’t need to win, but I will absolutely not quit on him the way I would (and have) quit on myself. And he knows all of this, so he pushes me.

Then he tells me I’m not walking unless I can’t talk or breathe. Including hills.

Did I mention he calls me on my bullshit? I’m sure I groaned, but I didn’t protest. I knew by this point it wasn’t going to matter, I wasn’t in control of this run. Again, I was irritated. I don’t like not having a say. In my head I was calming myself by saying I could just openly defy him if I wanted, what was he gonna do about it? He couldn’t stop me from walking if I wanted to. But I also knew I wasn’t actually going to do that. I kept running.  I was mostly keeping up with him. A stride or two behind at times, but close enough to count. I kept looking at my watch, because how do you run with a watch and not look at it? And I’m one of those that if I don’t have my watch on did I even run? No. Much like I don’t count non-race runs as PRs, if I don’t have a record of it, it doesn’t count as a run.

We hit the 5k mark. My fastest to date. He tells me to stop my watch, we’re taking a minute. I do. And I approach him with my fists raised because all of the irritation from those first three miles is welling up and I want to punch him. It was  involuntary–and completely out of character for me to actually approach like I’m going to hit someone, let alone a friend. Before I could swing, he gave me a fist bump, said way to go, knew you could do it. It disarmed me. I was still irritated, to be sure, but the moment had passed. I couldn’t hit him now. We chatted for a minute, decided on the plan (distance had been up in the air at the start, finally, I get a say), then started running again.

My hips started acting up around mile 4. Had I been alone, I probably would have called it, walked some, started heading back to the car. I generally only run through pain when I’m in a race and even then sometimes I fold. But I wasn’t alone. I thought about asking to turn back at 4 and a half, we’d still get in 9 miles, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I kept going. We stopped for another minute at the 5 mile mark, I stretched. Confessed my hips weren’t happy, he told me his knee wasn’t either. But hey, gotta love an out and back–no choice but to finish. We set back out. Stopped around mile 7, realized I should take a gel (I usually use 2 on a 10-mile, but had been too distracted), realized I lost one of my little water bottles (oops). He asked what my PR was, I told him. He said I could probably beat that if I hustled on the last three miles. I shrugged, not sure how much ‘hustle’ I had in me, not sure if I cared. He told me the pace he wanted for the rest of the run. I told him to run and I’d do my best to keep up. We got back to it. I was starting to lag behind him, but he didn’t leave me, he kept tabs on where I was, would slow down to let me catch up.  Then we got to the last ascent of the route. Not even the worst of the hills on the route, but he could tell I was struggling and hell, maybe he was too, I couldn’t tell you. I just know I wanted it to be over with, and clearly he could tell. He started going through the motivational spiel he uses on himself when it gets rough. Parts of it amused me, parts of it were definitely for him, but mostly it irritated the piss out of me for some reason. Still I stayed in stride with him. Then he started one of my favorite quotes and I recited it with him (the short version, just the first two lines):

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure; It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us”

I was prepared to continue the recitation, but he moved on to other words of inspiration and I went back to being irritated. We got up the hill, and chatting at the top (while still running) I told him he was ‘f***ing annoying’. He laughed, pleased I was pissed because it meant he was doing his job. To be fair I also told him I loved him for it, as he kept me distracted and I never stopped running.

Homestretch. He takes off. I’m dragging. But I don’t quit. When I’m aware of the ache in my hips, I remind myself that his knee is killing him. When I check my pace on my watch, I know I can do better and pick it up. I keep running. And I finished with my best 10-mile time to date.

I was ecstatic. Elated. On a serious runner’s high now that the damn thing was done. But the magnitude of it all really hit me a little bit later, with some time and space and distance. I have zero excuses. The sky is the limit at this point. I am capable of so much more than I ever thought. And now that I have that knowledge, I can’t un-know it. And it scares the crap out of me. Big goals. Big dreams. Big plans. And I am more than capable of all of it. I don’t get to doubt myself ever again. And the rest of the weekend just continued to echo that theme–I decided to run a 5k the next morning at the school my best friend teaches at. I wasn’t sure how it would go going in, I was sore from Saturday, and I was definitely not trying to PR, I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t push, I even walked a couple of times, and I finished in 34:51. My race PR is 34:12. I came close without trying. I have no excuses, none. And anything I come up with is just that–an excuse. And I need to get over myself and out of my own head because I can do this. And the more I thought about it, the more that quote resonated with me in a way it hasn’t since I was a teenager. Here is the quote in it’s entirety:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” ~Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love

And that’s the crossroads I am at. I’ve caught a glimpse of my light and nothing has ever scared me so much. I’ve been close before, and then I’ve backed off. I’ve said before that running and I have a symbiotic relationship, and that for better or worse I’m entwined with it in a way I can’t escape. And it works exactly in this situation: I run hard, and then I walk. I get scared and I back off. But Saturday I ran, and I didn’t walk, I didn’t back off. I kept going. And the doors opened. There’s no going back.

I have a new goal for Sunday, because I’m going to PR no matter what. It will be tough, but I know I can do it, or come real damn close. I’m going to shine.

I had an amazing and exhausting whirlwind weekend. I mentioned previously that I was homesick, so I rearranged some things on my calendar and made an impromptu overnight trip home to see my parents and best friend, which was totally worth the little bit of chaos and exhaustion going into this next week.

Saturday morning started with my last long run before EQT. I met up with a friend I haven’t run with in a long time and we crushed 10 miles. Crushed them. It was my best time for a 10-miler to date. I may not beat this time next weekend (though I’m certainly going to try) but I’m positive I’m going to PR.  A longer post about this run is yet to come–I’m still processing everything that came up for me during it–but it was a very important run for me and it couldn’t have happened at a better time. I wish I’d gotten some pictures, it was an absolutely beautiful day, but quite frankly I was too focused and running too hard. So I’m still working on that.

After that I got cleaned up and packed up and headed out of town to my parent’s house. Traffic was with me and the drive in was pleasant and uneventful. I had homemade pizza dinner with my parents and one of my nieces, and went shopping with my mom and my sister. It was a great evening.

The next morning I got up and got ready to run again. My best friend was going to be at a 5k race for her work (not running, just has to make an appearance) so I decided I was going to show up and surprise her. I coordinated with her husband to make sure she would be there and that there weren’t immediate plans for after, then got myself there and registered and waited. She was so surprised. I was nervous about running given that I’d crushed 10 miles the day before, but figured fortune favors the bold and I could take it easy, I was just doing this for fun. So I ran. I took it easy. I walked a couple of times. 34:51 (official time). Not bad considering I wasn’t trying, and my current race PR is 34:12. (I have run a faster 5k–significantly faster–but in my head if it isn’t a race it’s not really a PR, so until I beat that time in a race, this stands). I almost PR’d and I wasn’t even trying. Bestie ran part of it with me near the end. Afterwards we went back to her house, hung out with her husband and pups for a bit, got changed and then we went to lunch before I set off to come back to PA.

On my way back, I got my first gingerbread latte of the season–sooo excited. I wait for gingerbread the way the rest of the world waits for pumpkin spice. It definitely made the rainy drive back to reality better. Did some grocery shopping, laundry and food prep when I got back. And here we are. Lots to catch up on, but I have a half day at work on Tuesday–we made plans but had to change them last minute, and I figured I’d keep the half day so I could get some stuff done around the house. Look for a longer post on Wednesday about that 10-mile training run.

Happy Monday, friends.

No scale report this week–was a rough week and so I cut myself a little slack and just decided to not. It is what it is, and I know my body, I’m not concerned. Hoping for one last solid 10-miler this weekend before the race next week. REALLY EXCITED about some upcoming races. I’ve got most of the rest of the year booked and paid for already. One more race to sign up for to end the year, and our new year’s race also.

Life is good. Work is good. Getting a little homesick and ready for the Thanksgiving break, but it will be here before I know it. Running is good, though it has been a rough week, I’ll admit. I need to start packing my head lamp or suck it up and head to the gym to use the treadmill more.

I’m in love with running again, and it feels amazing. I want to do all of the races. I’ve always shied away from group runs, but I can’t wait to get out there for the first time with my running group. I’m feeling the itch for another full marathon. I need to set some definitive goals and work out an actual training plan for next year. I need to learn to take more pictures and document it more. It’s hard to share the love the way I want to when I don’t have the tangible reminders and memories. The more running comes back to me, the more writing comes back to me. The more I run the more I want to share it. So big things are coming, little blog.

Happy Friday, Happy Weekend.

This is going to be a true brain dump and probably not much of substance, but you’ll have that sometimes…

I love my job. I do. I love my co-workers, I’m pretty decent at it, it appeals to my workaholic nature while also being something that I can leave at the office when I walk out at the end of the day. And after working at a job that sucked out my soul little by little and was slowly killing me, it’s a welcome relief to be here. That said, mentally it wears me out. By the end of the day I’m so ready for my workout, and by the end of the week I’m so thankful for the weekend. And just halfway through the week (technically not even as I haven’t gone to work yet today) I’m already looking forward to this weekend.

I’m so pumped for races. Usually my ‘season’ is over after the 10-miler. But I’ve got the bug bad this year, and I’m just getting started. There is no off season anymore, not even a month. Hubby and I are looking at a 5k on New Year’s Eve now, as well as a race on New Year’s Day. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate. So excited for some of the stuff we have planned. Need to start working on a training plan for next year in earnest, though, but will be much easier with a solid 10-mile base to work from. I’m even starting to toy with the idea of another full marathon next fall–I keep thinking that I can beat my time from Columbus (which was my best to date). I know I don’t want to do a spring or summer race though–I’ve got too many other goals I want to accomplish first, but a fall race? Maybe.

Lots to do as always. Happy hump day!

So that restorative weekend I thought I was going to have, the one where I would get caught up on things and go into the week feeling a little more prepared? Kinda went out the window. You make plans, God laughs. I did get a lot done, just not all that I’d hoped for. Oh well, such is life.

My run wasn’t spectacular yesterday. It was good, don’t get me wrong, but also not what I’d hoped for. I wanted another 10-miler, but I was feeling it in my hips by mile 5, so I stopped short. It was pain I could’ve worked through, but why? I’m two weeks out from a big race, I know that I can cover the distance, I was also having some anxiety about things that needed to get done. There was no reason to push myself through another lap at the park. A couple of pics from the run…

North Park is beautiful this time of year. This pic doesn’t do it proper justice, but lovely nonetheless.

Artsy Garmin and shoe shot. Need to work on my skills, but fun to play around with some of the stuff I see all the time on IG.

No pics from the last race, which is a little disappointing. I don’t think their photographers were out in force–I didn’t see a lot of cameras to cheese for. Also the problem with being slightly faster–I’m more likely to be in a crowd when I pass the cameras so they’re less likely to get a clear shot of me. But that’s fine, usually race photos aren’t that great anyway.

Another busy week ahead of me, guess it’s time to get started. Have a great week!

Scale was the same, which I’m remarkably cool with. I wasn’t as diligent about food this week–and the mental break from that was nice. I’m exactly where I was last Friday so it just serves as more ‘proof’ that I can handle life and treats without losing my mind and bingeing or backsliding, which is something I need to be reminded of at times. I also know my body and that I’m around my ‘set point’–this is the point my body maintains with relative ease and little thought or effort, and that it gets harder for me to reduce once I’m here. I needed a week like this before I buckle back down and press on.

Weekends have been somewhat hectic around here lately, lots of races and back and forth and errands out the wazoo taking me out of my normal routine. I need a solid weekend to sort some stuff out and make plans. I was looking through some training plans online and realized I just need to create my own. Which I’ve done before successfully, but I’ve never had the same kind of goals before, so this is an exciting new challenge.

But I still have one more day at work before that…so happy weekend!

I struggle when it comes to sharing my dark side, but I’ve learned in my life that the things I struggle with are often (1) more universal than I think, and (2) easier to bear and work through when I lay it all out there. So here’s what I’ve been processing for the last few days…

I took this picture last Friday morning. I was awake waaay too early, had the house to myself, and was feeling amazing about my body. So I put on one of my favorite tanks and the Dona Jo FitWear leggings I splurged on (on sale) at the last race expo and took this pic (okay, I took several, but this was the best, and I only filtered for contrast purposes–no edits, Scouts honor).  I was immediately of two minds about it.

The nag at the back of my head, the disordered voice, the critic, the one who sees my eyes and recognizes it’s me and immediately attacks with things I wouldn’t say (or really even think) about another human being: UGH! Your thighs are SO BIG! Your ass is HUGE! You’re still FAT! No matter what you do you will always be FAT.

But I know by now that is the disorder talking.  I know it is NOT actually TRUE. So I take a step back and my rational side takes over. I treat it as though it’s a random chick on Instagram, and the words that come to mind are completely different: FIT. SOLID. STRONG. ATHLETIC. That is CLEARLY a body she has worked for–it may be a work in progress (maybe, maybe not), but those curves did not happen by accident. WORK was involved.

And then I remind myself that it IS me. I AM that woman. I have worked for and earned that body, and it is serving me well. It has been and is well worth every bit of dietary discipline and drop of sweat. Class after class. Run after run. Miles upon miles. Race after race. Broken PR after broken PR. THAT IS MY BODY. And I am proud of it. I am stronger and fitter than I was when I was 20 pounds lighter. My legs and glutes are better developed and it shows in my running–I’m exceeding my own expectations, to the point I don’t even know where to set the bar anymore, I just know I want to see what I’m capable of.

That said, I’m not quite where I want to be physically. There is some science behind the theory of ‘Racing Weight‘ and I’m still trying to find mine. That’s part of seeing what I’m capable of. And I’m a red-blooded American woman so of course I want to look good. But the end goal has shifted. The numbers attached are very loose in my mind at this point, more guidelines than hard and fast. I still have an idea of where my ‘racing weight’ is, but if I feel good about what I look like and I’m performing well, scale be damned. And I have an idea where I want to be in clothing sizes, but again, if I’m solid and fit and that size just doesn’t work anymore–clothing sizes be damned. Much like my running–I don’t know where to set the bar anymore, and I’m not sure that it matters. I just want to see what is possible.

For the moment I’m focused on breaking my PR in my next race in a few weeks, and from there working on setting a first round of goals for next year, figuring out what races I want to do, and setting up a training plan. Relentless forward motion.

Mario Lemieux Foundation Penguins 6.6k Run–this race is one of my Pittsburgh trifecta: Marathon or Half, Pens 6.6k, EQT Pittsburgh 10-miler. I’ve done both the 6.6 and the 10-miler since their first year (2013) and I love them dearly. I plan to be one of the people still doing the race in 10-15-20 years, one of the people who can say they’ve done them all.

But I digress–I thoroughly enjoy this race, and this year I broke another long standing PR. Met up with a buddy before the race, got in on the Steel City Road Runners group pic (though sadly, did not get a pic of my own because I just wasn’t thinking–I gotta get better about that). I LOVE running through the city of Pittsburgh. Bridges and tunnels are two of my favorite things and this race has both, and it’s a big event–massive participation–and I love a big crowd at a race. Plus it’s a unique distance (4.1 miles) and you get a medal–I’m all about the bling.

Started off really strong, first mile was great. I knew I needed to keep ahead of the 11:30 pacer in order to beat my record. I started off between the 10:30 pacer and the 11. And I held that through miles 2 and 3. Mile 4 was awful. I wouldn’t say I fell apart, but I definitely struggled. I fell in line just behind the 11 minute pacers (literally I was right behind them). The air in the tunnel was stuffy as what. It was a little hard to breathe. But I kept pushing, I stayed right with the pacers through the tunnel and then had to walk a bit shortly thereafter. I was in the last half mile by that point so I wasn’t as concerned about making my goal, but man I hate to fizzle. I pushed as much as I could and managed to go from a 48:06 finish to a new PR of 46:39. The 11:30 pacer never caught me, I’m pleased to say.

Three short weeks until my next race, the one that I had initially set as my goal. I’m hoping to exceed my initial goal and actually PR again. But until then, I train.

Make it a great week.