The Renegade of (Running) Funk

Sometimes, in life, you get into funks. 

 Not this kind of funk though - this is the good kind.

Funks can reach all levels of life and can sometimes be interpreted as burn-out. Whether it's a dead-end job or a writer's block or a weight loss plateau, we've all gotten into ruts of some form. Things aren't what they used to be, you no longer see progress, and fun activities no longer seem fun. 

It also can take it's toll on running.

I had been battling the running funk for a few weeks. Maybe it was the summer heat, or maybe it was borderline burnout. I tried new playlists. I tried running with no music at all. I tried running with friends. I tried bartering with myself (if you can run this entire route at goal pace, we can have Yogurtology later!) but nothing seemed to be working. 

And let's be honest, I had that frozen yogurt anyway. To drown my sorrows, of course.

 EAT ALL THE TOPPINGS! 

So, I did the unthinkable: I took a week off.

*GASP*

Yes. It's true.

Every run I was embarking on just wasn't fun anymore. I was stopping every few miles, pausing my Garmin, trying to re-energize myself. I was taking unnecessarily long water breaks. I was late going out the door and having to cut runs short. I started making excuses.

 I needed to do some serious re-focusing. 

I've been on a routine training schedule since March, and that doesn't include the multitude of half marathons that came before that. I also delved into another round of marathon training immediately after the Newport Marathon.

I haven't had a "break" in what seems like an eternity.

So, for 7 days, I did nothing. Not one trip to the gym, not one lacing-up of the Brooks. 

Nothing.

I wasn't sure what to expect. I was definitely antsy, but nothing like the taper tantrums of marathons past. I wasn't as hungry and ate meals much more similar to my peers instead of Michael Phelps. I didn't have nearly as much stinky laundry piling up. I didn't have to set my alarm for 4:45 AM.

By the end of my time off, I missed running. Missing something means you want it, so it was the exact feeling I wanted to achieve.  

And guess what? My first run back, I hit negative splits and felt great doing it.

And didn't even have to bribe myself with frozen yogurt.

Moral of this post -- don't be afraid to give yourself a break. Sometimes, not only do you deserve it, but you also need it.

 

Princess For A Day

Abigail Grace Accessories is based out of Belgium and creates gorgeous headpieces, belts, garters, and gifts. The designer is launching a new website, and they hired my very talented friend/professional photographer Esther Louise to do the shoot.  

Shortly thereafter, I received the news of a lifetime: I was chosen to be the model! 

It would entail hair, makeup, beautiful outfits with tulle and lace, and elegant accessories. There's not much more that little girls (and, in my case, big girls!) dream of.

I am bursting at the seams with how spectacular the photos turned out. They capture the delicacy of each piece --everything I wore was amazing quality and made me feel like a million dollars. The attention to detail that is put into their work is truly phenomenal.

It was a day that dreams are made of and I am incredibly honored to be a part of something so special! 

Here are a few of my favorites: 

 

           

  

 

Scroll through the rest of the entire album here.

Read Esther's blog post here.

Hair and makeup by Michele Galletto at Lasting Luxe

Come Hell or High Water

In it's 101st year, the Calgary Stampede calls itself "The Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth". Stampede is a 10 day city-wide festival that promotes Calgary's western heritage and values...meaning that basically the entire city turns into a country-western homestead complete with rodeos, chuckwagon races, and a midway that rivals any State Fair I've ever seen. 

I'd be willing to bet there are more people simultaneously wearing cowboy boots and cowboy hats during opening day of Stampede than there are in the entire state of Texas. It's quite overwhelming. 

As you may know, Calgary experienced some massive flooding 2 weeks before Stampede was due to begin. The first thoughts in everyone's minds were obviously loved ones and their homes, but an immediate second thought was: What about Stampede? 

Stampede is Alberta's most meaningful event in terms of economics, tourism, and community pride. 

And the Stampede grounds were completely under water.

Calgary's beloved and popular Mayor Naheed Nenshi promised that the show would go on. 

And y'all, did it ever.

Stampede officials launched the Hell or High Water campaign to raise funds for the Canadian Red Cross Alberta Floods Fund.

As of July 9th, T-shirt sales with the campaign have raised more than $1 million. 

You go, Calgary. You go.

 My sister and brother-in-law were gracious hosts as we made our rounds throughout Calgary. 

 

Calgary Airport welcoming committee - getting branded, lasso'd, and serenaded

With my sister at the parade

Sampling the local brews at Wild Rose Brewery 

Banff - Canadian Rockies  

 Lake Louise - Canadian Rockies

With it's high temps averaging in the 70's during the summer, Tim Horton's coffee, beautiful mountains a little over an hour away, and it's embracement of country music and cowboy hats, what's not to love about this city? 

Hope to see you again soon, Calgary.

That One Time I Won an Award and Didn't Tell Anyone

I have a secret. 

I'm an Athena. And I have the award to prove it.

I walked into the packet pick up in Newport, OR to get my race bib for the marathon and stumbled into a booth with a scale that said "weigh-in". 

Looking around, all the athletes picking up race packets were in legit shape and super fit. My first thought was Oh crap. You have to be a certain weight to race? I am screwed.

Turns out, it was a weigh-in for a special division in the race called Hercules and Athena.

Hercules were men weighing in more than 190 pounds, and Athenas were women weighing in more than 145. 

According to the Newport Marathon website, the Hercules and Athena division is "an added incentive for large-framed runners". 

Disclaimer: I do not believe that men over 190 and women over 145 are large. Quite frankly I think that's a little ridiculous. But, it's their rules not mine. 

 Being 5'9", I suppose I could possibly be considered as "large framed", but I prefer the term "tall".

My weight has been known to fluctuate by 10 pounds in a day (no joke!) but typically I stay right around 137 pounds on average. A little lighter in the morning, a little heavier at night. If I'm tapering I'll go into the 140's range. If I'm carbing up, a little bit more.

Just for fun, I figured I'd jump on the scale to see what happened. I had been tapering, carbing up, and drinking tons of Gatorade, so figured I would get pretty close.

Yep, definitely qualified as an Athena.

Also, with my 3:45 finish time, I got 3rd in the division and got an award.

This large-framed runner came out of Newport Oregon with more than just a PR. 

I am an award-winning Athena.

Humpty Dumpty Doesn't Get Enough Credit

Running is hard, y'all.

  The Newport Marathon was a small and very well put together race with a gorgeous course that I will never forget. In my third marathon of my running career, I got my time down into the 3:40's and PR'd by 8 minutes.

I was also unpleasantly introduced to "The Wall".

I have never hit the dreaded wall in either of my past 2 marathons. Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was being able to stay in control and not push myself beyond my fitness limits. Either way, I officially acquainted myself with this phenomenon in Newport, Oregon last weekend.

It was a gorgeous morning, somewhere around 50 degrees. I was fueled up and feeling inspired, and decided to let my legs decide the pace.

 BAD IDEA-- not having a real time goal in mind and just running until your legs fall off is NOT a good plan. Don't do it. 

For almost the entirety of the first half of the race, I was running sub-8 miles.
 When I crossed the halfway point at 1:45, I knew I was probably gonna be in for a very grueling second half.

 Umm, what was I thinking. Really. Come on Mary. That is even faster than BQ pace. Heck, that is as fast as I ran the St Pete Half Marathon just 4 months ago.

Oh, look who's feeling so good at mile 10 with their sub 8 pace and their big smile. Yeah, you have another 16 miles to go, idiot.

The wheels started coming off around mile 18, where I logged my first split over 9 minutes. From there, my average pace was about 9:15. I had to stop and walk and tried desperately to jump-start my mental game, but I was dead. The 3 mile gradual incline beginning at mile 22 didn't help, either.

Over it.




The look of pain.

My run-until-I-crash-and-burn plan was a complete success. 

I crashed and burned and all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put my poor soul back together again.  

The only thing that truly gave me any hope to keep going at the end was this guy.

He had rented a bike and decided he was going to ride part the of course and stop to cheer me on every few miles. 

When I saw him around mile 22, he knew I was in rough shape. I must have looked dreadful. From that point on he slowly rode about 50 yards ahead of me, looking back every so often. It was either to make sure I could still see him, or to make sure I wasn't dead on the side of the road.

I forgot what the Garmin was telling me and how much my body hurt and how I longed to give up and quit. My new goal was to keep him within my sight.



I finally finished, feeling defeated and broken but happy it was over.

I'm extremely disappointed in my mental state those last few miles.

I hate you, Marathon Wall. And I hate that I allowed it to happen.

Still, after that dreadful performance of the last 8 miles of the race, I am an official 3:45 marathoner.

And that is really really really really cool.

Looking back at my splits, had I actually stuck to a pace and not gone out at a crazy suicide speed, I could have definitely gotten super duper close to 3:40. Maybe even a 3:39.

And that makes me CRAZY excited. Now not only do I know where I stand, but I know what I need to work on and have a clear goal for Twin Cities in October. I want to beat the wall and beat 3:40, and I want the chip time to prove it. 
You heard it here first. 

I also have to brag on the state of Oregon. I had never been to the Pacific Northwest and was completely blown away.

 Oregon Coast

Everyone in Oregon is so nice. They give the south a serious run for their money when it comes to hospitality and general friendliness.

 Pre-marathon breakfast at the Original Pancake House


 
International Rose Test Garden in Portland                Rogue Brewery in Newport

Voodoo Doughnut in Portland

 

After running, eating, and craft-beer-drinking my way through Oregon, I am back to the humidity and flat terrain of Florida with a clear head, a refreshed soul, and a shiny new PR.

And maybe a few extra pounds.

Maybe.

Thank you, Oregon. I can't wait to see you again.