Slow Running Saratoga

Reflection

2011-09-11T15:43:00.000-04:00

Ten years ago on this date, I was a high school junior at Morris Central School located in upstate New York. My class was in the middle of a social studies lesson that morning. I can still picture the classroom, and the befuddled look on the teacher's face as he reacted to whatever it was -- the telephone call or announcement or the person knocking at the door -- that caused him to turn on the TV at the back of the room around 9 a.m.

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The Sleepy Hollow Edition, Part I

2011-09-02T20:30:00.000-04:00

Today, unpacked and as "settled in" as I can be for the moment, with a slightly nightmarish moving day behind me, I was itching to get out and see the town. Not to mention sample yoga studios, check out the library, find some friends to run with/drink with, etc. ...

My new apartment is .7 miles from the Hudson River, just north of the Tappan Zee Bridge, and most of all, I am dying to go for an exploratory run in the riverside park I discovered there today. Fabulous views are in store for the lucky runner who gets her arse out of bed in time for a sunrise run! (Yeah, right.)

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The Moving Edition

2011-08-31T14:33:00.001-04:00

It was a peaceful Sunday afternoon in early June of 2008 when my family and I pulled up to Woodlawn Avenue with a little Uhaul. A few hours later, all unloaded into my new apartment, we wandered down Broadway to find dinner and were overtaken by some of that Spa City magic that many a newcomer has found themselves, thrillingly, ensnared in -- every person seemed intriguing, every restaurant smelled fabulous, every storefront looked enticing. (We didn't get close enough to see the price tags, of course.)

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Dog Days

2011-07-31T20:26:00.003-04:00

I took a lot of time off running the last two weeks, due to the soaring temperatures and my resulting sluggishness. I've completed a total of just four runs since July 16 -- the last one was yesterday, when I explored the lovely yet much too short Spring Run Trail as dusk crept over the northeast side of Saratoga.

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Hot running Saratoga

2011-07-11T21:46:00.001-04:00

As much as I love running, one of the best parts of doing it is being done with it. That feeling of accomplishment when you walk in the door all out of breath after a good run and head for the cold glass of water, the towel, the floor ... whatever.

This is especially true on days like today, when it hit at least 90 degrees in the middle of the day in Albany, and cooled down to a deceptive 84-ish by the time I exited the Northway in Saratoga after work.

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Change of plans

2011-07-08T21:32:00.003-04:00

So much for taking advantage of an early start to the weekend and sneaking in a late-afternoon run.

The weather goddesses were not on my side as I pulled in the driveway today around 4 pm -- with sun shining overhead -- and dashed into the house to get hydrated and changed for what I thought would be a nice easy meander through Spa State Park. During the 10 minutes I'm in the house (we're talking Mareesa Time here, so make that 20 minutes) the sky turns overcast, thunder starts to rumble, the wind is whipping leaves around on my street and it looks like a storm is going to break any moment.

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Friends, family, food, finishing strong ...

2011-07-04T22:41:00.008-04:00

... The fireworks have just finished popping away in Congress Park and my crew has long gone in their various directions home. I considered walking downtown to watch them on my own, but then I realized I am too wasted from the activity and heat of the last three days to move my butt any farther than absolutely necessary -- like from the couch to the kitchen to get a fresh ice pack or glass of water.

Anyway, whoever says you need fireworks to celebrate the Fourth of July (or a parade or barbecue, or spandex flag shorts, for that matter) is wrong. My weekend was absent all those things but it was as fabulous as you can get.

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Firecracker 4 anticipation

2011-06-19T00:24:00.003-04:00

We're exactly two weeks away from the fifth annual Firecracker 4, and you've seen, if you've driven or walked around here lately, that Spa City's runners are out in force, preparing for the four-miler that kicks off the local Fourth of July celebration.

Race organizers are expecting 2,000 or more participants this year -- the biggest field yet since it started in 2007. I know that number will include a bunch of Saratoga peeps as well as some out-of-towners. How cool that we can show off our beautiful city and raise some money for the local high school running team at the same time.

This will be my second year running the Firecracker, and I love feeling that I've improved so much (physically and mentally) as a runner in one year's time.

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Down time and the SWHPO epidemic

2011-06-12T23:30:00.005-04:00

This weekend could have easily come straight out of my wildest dreams about four months ago. What kind of weekend is that, you ask? One for which an agenda did not exist. Where I had not one work-related obligation, chore or personal item to concern me. No groceries that needed to be bought. No articles that needed to be written or emails to be sent. No one expecting my phone call or visit. Nuh. Thing.

Always one to thrive on feelings of "productivity," whether they are real or make-believe, sometimes it is hard for me to put down the to-do list and walk away. But sometimes life naturally slows down and it is important to respect that when it happens and enjoy it because it usually means it is about to shift into top speed again really soon.

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Returning, in my optimism bubble

2011-06-08T00:42:00.007-04:00

Dear blog,

I've neglected you these last couple of months! I really want to apologize, but I've been having so much damn fun living unattached from the computer that the guilt pangs faded away pretty easily after a couple weeks of no action on here. Apparently, someone/s out there still visits the site even in the absence of fresh content, which has prevented my monthly hits from dropping into the single digits -- a sure sign of a blog that is dead in the water. I am so grateful for you/s, my remaining readers/stalkers and of course, Mom.

June 9th will mark S.R.S.'s one-year anniversary, as well as my three-year anniversary being a Saratoga Springs resident, so I guess there's no better time to return to the blogosphere with renewed dedication.

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Hot Yoga

2011-04-12T10:12:00.004-04:00

It never occurred to me that my kneecaps could produce rivets of sweat, no matter how rigorously I may exercise. Same goes for my forearms, shins, earlobes and the backs of my heels.

But hot yoga -- in a studio heated anywhere from 95 to 105 degrees -- will do that to you.

I've been spending two solid hours the last few Saturday afternoons sweating my skin off at Hot Yoga Saratoga. It's the class for triathletes (though I am not, technically, a triathlete) that I mentioned in the last post ...

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Graduation

2011-03-11T03:06:00.006-05:00

I was skeptical at first, but I am now a believer in the powers of physical therapy.

Last Thursday I completed eight weeks at Sports PT and have come out of it with stronger muscles, a healthier perspective on exercise and a training plan for the next few months.

And, oh yeah, I can run now! (Very, very slowly, and not far, but it's a start.)

The best part was definitely the free T-shirt they give you at the last visit.

Saturday begins five weeks of hot yoga classes specifically geared toward athletes who run, cycle and swim; and those like me, who want to heal and prevent injuries and seek better performance.

As soon as I get a few more good jogs under my belt I am going to find and register for a 10K in the late spring/early summer.

Finishing up at Sports PT and saying farewell to the incomparable Dr. Jeff on Thursday was only the beginning of a whirlwind week.

On Friday, after I banged out my last three stories on my last day at The Saratogian, good times were had by the pintful at Gaffney's, which is seemingly becoming the farewell party bar of choice for the newspaper's employees. The crew came out in force to send me off on a high (and sufficiently intoxicated) note. Thanks, guys! We traded goodbyes, but I know I'll be seeing them around soon.


A fraction of the pile. The contents represent the makings of, ohh, say, 80 percent of my life during the last 2 years. Scary!

Somehow I recovered Saturday in time to drive 200 miles and commence a multi-borough food and friend adventure through New York City: First came wine and good company in the Bronx, then Thai food in Queens.

In the East Village Sunday afternoon, there was an Eggs Benedict brunch done in true hipster style, and train hopping to Brooklyn, where I was welcomed inside a warm, full apartment just as gray storm clouds gathered above. Cookie-baking, popcorn-making, Vietnamese/Indian dinner delivery, a chick flick and cat antics ensued as a rainstorm raged outside. Back home, some less-fortunate folks were enduring another frickin blizzard.

The next day, under sunny skies and amid windy gusts, it was back to Manhattan for a trip to Macy's, solo lunching/sightseeing, and an accidental 15-block ~~stroll~~ hustle, in heels, during rush hour, after I made a sliiight error navigating the subway. Oops.

Finally, I made a spontaneous return to the Bronx Monday evening for more wine, sushi, the Best Carrot Cake Ever, and some insightful conversation with a very cool journalist.


Just another tourist snapping photos in Rockefeller Center.

I was hoping to bump into Tina Fey outside the GE building, but alas, she was busy writing her next essay for the New Yorker ... or maybe the next episode of 30 Rock.


Inside St. Patrick's Cathedral, I was struck by the Gothic beauty and the homeless who were crumpled silently in some of the pews.


A collection basket resting till the next service.

On Tuesday afternoon, I was greeted in Saratoga with a driveway full of snow and ice, and the realization that I had absolutely nothing to do as major local news developed around me. (To cope, I immediately went to a yoga class, then spent the next two nights at the gym.) But that is a story for another post.

Check back for another update soon, before my Fabulous and Slightly Unbelievable Week of No Employment comes to an end Monday morning.

The shortest month

2011-03-01T08:00:00.002-05:00

This New York Times article got me thinking about the ending of the shortest month of the year.

Here at S.R.S., February 2011 began with a short journey to Brooklyn for the purposes of fun, friendship and celebration.

It ends and March begins on another celebratory note -- once again in New York City, and then beyond -- as I close one chapter of my life and prepare for a new job and a new adventure.

The weeks in between, though, were far less carefree. For one thing, I said a bittersweet farewell to yet another friend from my immediate circle who is moving on to grander things many miles away.

Then there was slogging endlessly through all that snow and ice, and all the late hours spent awake and driving through the cold dark, pizza in tow, doing what was necessary to get by. Good riddance.

Other departures this month were less literal. Old ideals and long-held expectations -- had of myself and of others -- that had gone stale were sloughed off, sometimes unexpectedly, coarsely, painfully. Like popping a blister before it's ready, or ripping a bandage off a wound that's not quite finished healing; if there's no thought given to the timing, you could end up with a scar.

So a little proverbial bleeding occurred, but it's all for the best, and now it's over.

What I'm getting at, I guess, is that I disagree with the NYT writer's proposal (however facetious) to extend the 28-day month by a couple days in order to bring it into equal standing with the other months. February, in my book, you are just not as good as the other months. And you couldn't have been over soon enough.

As for March, bring it.

Renewing the routine

2011-02-24T02:25:00.005-05:00

Tonight I had several post-work, post-physical therapy options: Join a friend who was in the mood to celebrate at a bar, go to a potluck dinner out of town and catch up with friends I haven't seen in awhile, go home and catch up on sleep, or go to the gym for a jog/walk.

Not too surprisingly, I chose the gym, where the red track and I are becoming fast friends despite my initial lack of excitement about it. At 9.1 laps to the mile, the soft, rubbery surface is kind to my knees, as long as I am kind to them and don't attempt any pace faster than 12 minutes per mile.

Once I get warmed up, it requires serious effort to hold back on the straight-aways, where the supportive surface makes it too easy to fly around, and before you know it, you're sprinting near top speed, in a race with yourself with no finish line.

There are all kinds of people on the track, from walkers to 6-minute-miler military types to tiny skipping children. That's one thing I love about running -- it's all inclusive. It's one of the simplest movements the human body is capable of -- it doesn't require any special equipment or clothing -- and yet it can be one of the most difficult activities of all.

That's what I was thinking as I paced around the red rubbery loop tonight. Thinking, I couldn't even walk without pain six weeks ago. Now I am jogging causally around, breathing easy and dreaming of spring and a warm, sunny run down the Avenue of the Pines.

Now I am walking up and down stairs with ease, driving my car without a struggle. But I do it all with a new gratefulness, with the knowledge that it could be taken away in a flash should I sway from routine, or push my muscles too hard, and toward injury again.

And although the track is slightly underwhelming with its pervasive rubber smell, the cool wind tunnel effect created when multiple people are using it, the lack of scenery and the *ahem* people who stroll two or three-abreast in the running lanes, it is the place that, after my winter work day is done, I'd much rather go to than anywhere else.

While going out to socialize was tempting, it was that kind of night where I craved the familiarity of my carefully formed solo routine, and knew I would reap the benefits that were sure to follow: physical health and a peaceful mind.

My mellow mood was only bolstered by a quick dip in the whirl pool, and then I returned home to have the house all to myself. I set out to cook dinner and call up three friends with whom I shared good news -- the combined effect of all this was feeling complete satisfaction with my decisions, and so much hope for future similar evenings to come.

New image

2011-02-20T02:32:00.000-05:00

You might notice that the image above these posts -- or rather, the words on the image -- have changed.

After a long and careful search for identity (a lot of which happened on the elliptical machine this winter -- that repetitive motion is good for more than just cardio!) I decided the description of the blog had to more accurately reflect who I am.

And while all of the former descriptions -- journalist by day, pizza delivery girl by night, former military wife -- still define me, at least for the moment, they present a somewhat limited view of yours truly. So, I'm shakin' them off to the sidelines.

Descriptions of more breadth include daughter, sister, friend, lover, learner. That should be obvious.

In an effort to simplify and to create some karmic space, I hereby change the wording to include only those definitions of self that are most important, in relation to this blog.

Thanks for keepin' reading.

Nice girls finish first

2011-02-13T01:10:00.004-05:00

I clocked two miles jogging and walking at the YMCA indoor track the other day, "running" for the first time in two months. It was some seriously slow running, but it was exhilarating, and it was largely pain-free.

The doc has cleared me for a jog/walk program to do about three times a week, in addition to all the silly-looking exercises I continue to perform with bands, balls, bikes and balance boards in order to strengthen my little muscles.

Other than that 20 minutes of tentatively experienced bliss at the Y, this week could easily be described as one long, cold piece of stinking, over-caffeinated crap. Pardon my French, but I'm tired of being nice and polite. The rest of my waking hours not at physical therapy or the gym were spent moving wearily from home to car to work and back, and at every turn I encountered insensitivity in others, or just plain arrogance.

Note to self: Time to stop wasting energy on relationships that are devoid of equality and respect. The asshole magnet that has heretofore been sticking to my forehead like a neon sign has officially been ripped off and thrown in the trash. And it landed right on top of that old, smelly toothbrush.

So tonight I went and got a manicure and my nails were painted bright red. My manicurist mentioned there was a holiday coming up on Monday, but for a moment I couldn't recall which one she was talking about.

Then I went to the grocery store and saw a guy wheeling a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of carnations around, looking like he was embarrassed to be found complicit in this ridiculous display of sentiment, yet bound by custom. I went to the mall and browsed pink lingerie hanging on racks. I passed couples holding hands. I come home and hear my roommate and her boyfriend through the wall. I turn my music up and smile.

Phew, I think. It's finally hit me. Relief. Relief to be free of such tediousness, of such worry and work and obligation to please the opposite sex, only to unwittingly offer up one's heart to the shredder. How much more satisfying it is to devote pleasure to oneself.

Forget flowers and cute little cards scrawled with empty words, with apologies. This nice girl has got bigger and better races to run.

January: One month in numbers

2011-02-05T11:38:00.000-05:00

New Year's resolutions made: 8

New Year's resolutions made and kept: ??

Injured knees: 2

Days since last real run: 65

Weeks in physical therapy: 4

Minutes spent on elliptical machine: 175

Weight lost due to high stress level: 5 pounds

Increase in daily caffeine intake: 24 ounces

Height of snow piles in yard: 3.5 feet

Time spent at work per week: 60 hours

Miles clocked on second shift: Thousands

Nights spent at bars with coworkers: 4 ... or was that 5?

Average bedtime: 3 a.m.

Laughs shared with friends: Countless

Catching up: Sugar high

2011-02-04T02:39:00.008-05:00

This post is from mid-December. Why am I posting it now, on Feb. 4? Because I'm easing myself back into blogging after life took a little roller coaster ride the last two months and writing for pleasure flew to the bottom of the priority list. With this post, loose ends are all tied up and we're on to the next (fully in the present) S.R.S. adventure!

There was once a time when, at the behest of my very health-conscious father, I did not consume sugary foods.

During lunch time in elementary school, I would peer down the long rows of cafeteria tables at my fellow fourth-graders as they consumed Capri Suns, fruit snacks, Doritos and Lunchables. I was too shy to try negotiating a trade, so I silently lusted over their treats, faking enthusiasm over the apple slices and carrot sticks in my brown paper bag.

Dad, I gratefully owe you my good health, my love for vegetables and oatmeal and my ~~embarrassing~~ ~~lack of 80s and 90s pop culture knowledge~~ purity of mind.

However, today, sugar and I have quite a different relationship. For one thing, there's all the coffee I drink. Black is bitter, so my morning wake-up call (and afternoon/evening deadline-crunch caffeine fix) usually includes a half-teaspoon of sugar and a nice helping of cream. Then there is the abundance of cookies and other sweets that magically appear throughout my office on any given day, 12 months out of the year. My coworkers love baking, and they are excellent at it, so why resist?

Yesterday, I took my love for sugar one step further and participated in my first-ever holiday cookie exchange. There are many reasons why this type of activity is foreign to me, sugar being the only familiar element. For example, in order to participate, I had to complete a seemingly endless list of tasks over a period of weeks (weeks!), like finding a recipe, shopping for ingredients, and emailing back and forth with the hostess about what I was going to bring for both the cookie exchange and the potluck dinner.

Once gingersnaps and a Greek pasta salad were confirmed, there was the baking and cooking itself. I spent three hours in an apron, in my kitchen, listening to Christmas music. Yield: six dozen cookies, a salad that could feed 20, a sweaty, flour-covered me and a sinkful of dirty dishes. Did I mention I was also required to print out 20 copies of my cookie recipe for distribution? Don't even get me started on how much time, effort and creativity went into those (other people's) little recipe card designs.


Half of the delicious spread (and that's not even counting the real food!) at the CDNY Eat Drink Blog party.

Phew. To top off this weekend of classic American holiday-prep merriment, I bought wrapping paper and gifts on Friday ... as in Friday, Dec. 17, a full week before Christmas. That may not sound earth-shattering, but if you know me, this awesome display of advance preparation might surprise you. Last year, I ripped the tags off my family's gifts as I ran down the stairs to where they were waiting for me by the tree on Christmas morning. Lame.

(And, I wrote most of this post in December and I'm just now putting it on the blog.)

Anyway, the Capital District healthy living bloggers I met at the cookie exchange are a fun bunch of women, and I learned a lot about their community. A few brought their men -- non-bloggers who quickly sought refuge together in the kitchen when they realized they were outnumbered something like 5 to 1 in a room crowded with loud, laughing, opinionated women. I kind of felt sorry for them, hanging about, being chatted up by a quieter guest who wandered in from the main room seeking a refill and a break from so much (AH!) large-group interaction.

Wine and quiche and off-color jokes were had in major quantities. Many fabulous cookies were gobbled up. But the pre-party in my kitchen, singing and baking in solitude, was actually just as good.

Runner, ID'd

2010-12-09T02:38:00.001-05:00

More than a year has passed since I began running regularly and seriously. Only now, after injury and a doctor's visit, do I feel I've truly joined the runner's club.

Dancing has always come naturally to me, but I've always, very confidently, viewed myself as a "non-athlete." Exhibit A: In middle school, under peer pressure to make my spectacled, shy little self appear "cool," I ignored my parents' raised eyebrows and joined the modified soccer team, only to drop out after one practice because all the shouting and flying objects turned me into a nervous wreck.

I was that kid who was always picked last for the basketball team during gym class, the one who shuffled behind everyone else when they made you run the one loop around the track.

My little sister, the avowed athlete of the family, has beaten me in every sport or game we've played together since she was 5. (I'm 10 years older).

But now I've gone and turned into a Runner, y'all.

I left Tuesday's orthopedic appointment with a diagnosis of patellofemoral pain, instructions to see a physical therapist, and a hefty knee brace that is intended to prevent my knee cap from irritating and inflaming the soft tissue in my knee when I run. The pain syndrome is common in women runners, especially those who have "huge" quads, like myself -- which a glib doctor was kind enough to point out to me.

Weak sartorius muscles are the culprit of my patellofemoral pain, I was told. Also, running straight down that twisting, horrible gravel hill at the Cross Country Classic in October might have had something to do with it. Argh, hindsight. Someone please get me Running for Dummies for Christmas.

Anyway, despite the fact that I need to educate myself further to avoid future injury, going to the ortho appointment also delivered to me a dose of affirmation that yes, I love, want and need running to feel good. And I will continue to stick with it even though the going is slow right now.

It's been awhile since I've felt that way about any one activity that
a.) is healthy
b.) is a self-identifier, and
c.) is completely within my own control.

Fortunately there are no balls, bats, or throwing involved in this sport. Just the occasional snot rocket (still gotta learn how to master that technique), chafed arm pit and black toenail.

Distance running is lovely because of its solitary nature (running socially is an option, not a requirement) and also gritty because it can be the ultimate test of both an individual's mental and physical strength.

This is all fine and good, right? But let it be noted, I did not miss the key lesson of this injury experience: cross-training, stretching and pacing oneself = good, to put it lightly.

The Acceptance Stage

2010-11-30T23:48:00.001-05:00

So, I know I just wrote a whole post about how I might be back on track with running and exercise in general after five long weeks of inactivity.

Scratch all that.

At least that is what I have been thinking, as I spend the evening limping to the freezer to grab an ice pack, sinking back into the couch and Velcroing it around my damn knee. Refreeze and repeat. The pain is back and much more intense. The best part is that the soreness and aching have begun to show up in my right knee as well, and moved down to my feet and my ankles.

The makings of an exciting night.

I wake up in the middle of the night tossing and turning because my legs are sore and restless. I wake up at 8:30 a.m., after hitting the pillow at 2:03 a.m. I got home from Job #2 at 2:01 a.m.

I give myself a pep talk before I heave feet to the floor and limp, bleary-eyed, to the coffee maker. It will all be worth it one day, when I make my big break and when I can run again. I chant it over and over, as if saying it will make it come true.

I'm such a complainer, I know. I'm getting sick of myself.

What did I expect, recklessly completing five workouts in one week after doing nothing more strenuous than hitting the 4 button on the elevator panel for a month?

At last, I made an appointment with an orthopedic doctor for next Tuesday. This happened only after I did some Googling (Googleing?) and self-diagnosed myself with patellofemoral pain, a.k.a. Runner's Knee. Using my great powers of rationalization, I've concluded that now, going to to the doctor might not be so ominous, since I have ruled out several major ailments that would require surgery and/or never running again.

However, a conversation with a coworker/fellow runner this morning prompted a scary possibility that is eating away at me: What if, as happened to him, I had sore knees that would always, from this point on, be sore when I ran? My marathon (ok, half-marathon) running days would be over before they even had a chance to begin.

This article in today's Times provides an interesting, if not completely rounded, perspective on the relationship between cycling and running injuries. The bit on the second page about feeling as if a running injury -- most of them from simple overuse -- is your own fault, is completely relevant here. One of the most frustrating parts is that the realization that it is your own fault doesn't hit ~~your~~ my thick head until long after the hurt has happened, as, the author says, "you cast about for a reason why you got injured."

My whole body hurts, including my head. Going to Price Chopper and getting some ice cream sounds like a good remedy. At least subjecting myself to a brain freeze will taste good.

Back on track?

2010-11-27T21:19:00.009-05:00

I re-upped my YMCA membership for the winter and took myself to the gym on Monday evening for my first run in more than a month.

Finally.

It was a major production, at least internally, to go through the motions of getting ready to run. I was nervous. I spent more time than usual tying my laces, securing my hair, adjusting my music, and then gingerly, very gingerly, stepped onto the red, squishy surface of the indoor track on the second floor of the Y.

First, though, as I knelt down to retie my shoe again, I sent a little prayer out to the running gods and goddesses. "Please, please let me run today without hurting my body," I pleaded. "I promise I'll never skip a workout again if only I can have running back."

After a hesitant eight minute warm-up, I discovered that I hadn't completely fallen off the wagon and that my knee was not going to give out or start producing jolts of pain. This felt like quite a triumph, considering I was limping around a few weeks ago.

I ran around the track at a super slow pace for about 30 minutes, until my knee started to ache and go wobbly. Then I went downstairs to spin for 20 minutes, hoping to work the kinks out of my muscles while easing up on my knee.

Tuesday was a repeat of the routine. Wednesday and Thursday were given over to travel, family time, and so much delicious food, as well as RICE. The holiday was a perfect excuse to rest after an exhausting week.

They make you feel faster, and keep fingers warm.

Friday, after I had sat on my parents' huge couch doing absolutely nothing for so long I began to fear it would swallow me up permanently, I hauled myself up and headed to the SUNY Oneonta track nearby. It was about 35 degrees, and since everyone knows that running outside in cold weather is just an excuse to put on all sorts of sleek gear and feel cool, I suited up in mine: leggings, running shorts, long-sleeved wicking shirt, black ear band, black gloves. While they won't make you go any faster, black gloves, by the way, are apparently the epitome of running cool.

Izzy the bundle of fluff and me, her erstwhile friend.

I pulled two good miles on the track, so relieved to be able to move around outside again and take in the view of Oneonta's blue hills and the setting sun. Forgot to take any pictures of that or of Thanksgiving, save for one, as an afterthought, with the family dog.

It's still technically Thanksgiving week (eh?) so I'll say what I am thankful for: Always, for family, friends, nutritious food and good health. Right now, for being back in Saratoga in my warm, peaceful home, couching it up again after driving straight to the Y from Oneonta for workout No. 4 of the week. And I'm eternally thankful that I can lead an active life.

Liking the D.I.Y. approach to life

2010-11-17T23:06:00.003-05:00

I walked in the door tonight more grateful than usual to be letting myself into my warm little studio after a long day at work.

This evening I spent an hour outside in less-than-desirable weather conditions, covering a vigil for homelessness awareness week. I was so moved by the story of a local woman who endured a childhood of abuse, spent a winter homeless on the streets of Saratoga as an adult and is now earning her degree to be a social worker at age 49.

That kind of determination makes me feel like a chump for ever complaining about my sky-high student loans and pitiful paychecks. At least I'm working at something I care about and have a safe place to sleep.

As someone who spent her first few months of life sleeping in a tiny ~~blue~~ red trailer in the middle of the woods, surrounded by five-foot piles of snow, with a father who worked nights loading trucks in a warehouse and a mother who taught school to students from poverty-stricken families, the issue of homelessness resonates with me.

In the spring, with the help of friends and neighbors, they finished hand-building the two-story log cabin that would be my beloved home for the next 16 years.

Of course, I wasn't fully cognizant at the time, but I don't think there was much separating us three from destitution during that first long, cold winter in the trailer -- not much except an unflappable commitment to hard work and a steady resolution to maintain one's self-sufficiency at all costs.

My parents have long ago gone their separate ways and the log cabin is now someone else's home, but those values have stuck with me, and they flood my one-room apartment with hope.

Stretching out

2010-11-15T11:59:00.001-05:00

Saturday was a blur of traveling, kitchen appliances, dish towels, computer upsets and finally, returning home to Saratoga and a delicious homemade squash soup.

Sunday was a blur of yoga class, appointments, work and veggie burgers.

Today was a blur of work, meetings, braving a sketchy Chinese buffet ... I could go on, but I'll just have to show this picture instead:

The happy ending after three very busy days.

All of this activity has resulted in little sleep and a very tired S.R.S. So, therefore, I present the shortest blog post ever.

Yoga four times last week helped to ease my achin' bod. In Sunday's class, I had a super stretching experience with the help of a rock star teacher: We're sitting on the floor, reaching out for our toes in front of us, and without warning, she commences to sit down back-to-back with me and use her body weight to push me into the deepest stretch of my life (life as a former ballerina, that is). Then she held me there.

The physical sensation was so powerful it produced a revelatory effect inside my head. I walked out of there knowing for sure and for the first time that the studio is my sanctuary and yoga is my worship.

After that, my knees and legs have been feeling much more themselves lately, and I can't wait to go for my first recovery run this week.

Hatha healing and wine

2010-11-11T22:38:00.023-05:00

Thank goodness for yoga, friends and homemade burritos. And, uhh, Riesling.

Ever since I moved to Saratoga Springs and began frequenting Purdy's liquor store, buying a biweekly-ish bottle of wine, striking up friendly conversation with the employees and welcoming their suggestions on certain varieties, I've been wondering how long it was going to take this one cashier in particular to stop carding me. (I mean, I know it's the law, but -- check the ID for six months straight, see my friggin' face staring up from your newspaper every damn day and give it a rest already!)

Well, tonight I got my answer: it takes about two and a half years for him to stop carding me. Thanks, Virgo Guy at Purdy's. I know, I know, we're both Virgos, and you like to mention it every time you ring me out for my $10 bottle, after scrutinizing my birth date and practically quizzing me about my astrological sign and its stereotypical characteristics. But, Virgo Guy at Purdy's, tonight you surprised me by simply ringing me out with a smile and telling me to have a great night.

I suppose I'm grouchy because last night's sleep was a weird mixture of tossing and turning, anxious dreams about Twitter (!!) and dreams in which I try, and fail, to write news stories in my sleep.

So, finally making it to Vinyasa flow tonight at Yoga Mandali was a relief. I fell asleep during Shavasana (the corpse pose, where we relax with our eyes closed at the end of the practice) and woke up feeling like the majority of tension and pain had finally seeped out of my body.

I have a hunch it will be back again tomorrow morning, but I'm looking forward to the weekend to chill things out: Oneonta for a short visit with the fam, McKay's bridal shower, date night, and Sunday ... when I think I'll go for a run.

Caught in a lull, reckoning with myself

2010-11-10T21:07:00.045-05:00

It's now been two and a half weeks without so much as a jog, but I've been busy lately, not running (at all) and not eating (much). That's what stress, sadness, two jobs and a busted knee will do to you, I guess. It's not exactly a kind of busy that I am happy with, and I miss my routine sorely, but I keep telling myself it's temporary. It will get better.

On Monday, when it was snowing, I was walking home from work and a guy went jogging past me. He looked a little cold, but otherwise not very bothered about the white wet stuff fluffing up around his sneakers. I had a big pang of jealousy that confused me for a moment -- I was heading home to my warm apartment, soon to be enjoying an impromptu dinner with friends, and all of a sudden all I wanted to be doing was running outside in 30 degree weather? Yes.

The knee is holding up better -- no major pains for more than a week now, but it still feels weak. I've been super careful not to put extra weight on it, have used the elevator to get to my fourth-floor apartment every day and have even tried to stop wearing heels! (Not very successfully. But that's mostly just because I'm a short person and most of my pants are too long, thus requiring the wearing of heels.) These measures, combined, have hopefully allowed it to rest up and strengthen up.

Today I practiced yoga and stretched -- still no pain, but I put enough weight on my knees that I could feel the imbalance between the strong right knee and the wiggly left knee.

I am deliberating over when this "rest" period should be over ... tomorrow, next week?

Yoga is on the agenda until I feel 100 percent ready to risk it. If I try jogging and have the same problems as last time, I figure I'm out for another two weeks at least, and seriously, a doctor's appointment.

One truth this inactivity has unfortunately reinforced in me is that I must have spent a lot of time doing nothing before I started running and working out regularly. Or maybe I slept more. Either way, I had so much time on my hands that was wasted in fruitless, even damaging, pursuits, such as lashing myself into other people's arms in order to feel as if I had a purpose. I guess that made life feel exciting, like a roller coaster ride.

But I'm glad I've landed safely back on the ground. Running on the road is enough of a rush for me.

This is what slower feels like

2010-10-24T16:25:00.000-04:00

It's a time of involuntary rest here at S.R.S.

There was no running of the Great Pumpkin Challenge Saturday, and I won't be participating in the Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon/Squirrelly 6-miler next weekend either.

Somehow, between running a great, hard race last Sunday morning over the cross country trails and going out for a recovery run Monday evening, my left knee has become injured. I think it's a joint problem. The knee cap aches if I put even slightly more weight then regular walking on it -- say, if I'm walking down stairs or moving quickly to get in or out of the car.

Running is nearly impossible. Both times I went out this last week, I walked outside into the cold filled with energy and excitement. As I start to warm up my legs, my lungs decide they want to go along for the ride too. I am smiling into the air, so grateful and joyed to own this one simple thing, the ability to move myself forward into space. "This is going to be a great run. I can feel it," I think.

I hardly go 3/4 of a mile on an 11-minute pace before the knee pain flares up. When I try to push through it, I begin to feel nauseous, so I walk and then start jogging again. The mysterious pain returns like a nag, getting worse with every step.

There are some frustrating moments when the pain, combined with fears of not being able to race or even get myself home from this brief outing bring me to tears in the middle of the street. Passing motorists see me clutching my knee and cursing out all that is weak within me, right there at the intersection. I give up and gingerly slog the rest of the way home, or call for a ride. I feel such loss. The other day I ran an 8-minute mile with a pack of all sorts of beautiful people in the brilliant sunlight. Now I am limping alone through the dark.

What seems like a host of other life happenings, in addition to this ill-timed injury, converged toward the end of this week and threw me into an emotional tailspin. Here's hoping that some rest and QT with family this week will help me get back on track.

The pros and cons of age 25

2010-10-19T11:32:00.000-04:00

I've 25 now and that means lots of new things, some of which are:

1. Cheaper car insurance. I really worked the system this month and knocked $100 off my premium through sheer genius negotiating. I don't know if this is necessarily a matter of age, but we'll just chalk it up to wisdom from years of experience.

2. Mechanic at shop makes me consider never again leaving the house without putting on mascara by asking me randomly "Do you have class today?" while I'm waiting for my car to get an oil change. Guess he took my "just rolled out of bed and schlepped over here, and I don't care what I look like because this is my day off" appearance for that of a college student. Great. Just great.

3. I'm increasingly having to make room in my budget for gifts for friends who are getting married, and the proper attire to attend these matrimonial ceremonies. [Decided not to insert inappropriate comment here. Foot remains outside of mouth.]

4. I'm getting nervous about continuing to use my SUNY Brockport ID card to get discounts when buying stuff. The photo is now more than seven years old...

5. But most importantly, what 25 really means is that I've moved into a new age group division in running races. Instead of being the oldest in my bracket, women 20-24, I'm the youngest in the 25-29 division. Which means my chances are better for placing in my division.

Yesterday, I placed 3rd out of 8 in my new age group in the 5K Saratoga National Cross Country Classic. Too bad I didn't stick around long enough after the race to hear about it first-hand. A pancake breakfast was calling my name. But it was still super exciting.

My time of about 26:18 was my personal record in an official race, just a few seconds faster than the Fasig Tipton 5K in August. But if it weren't for those winding, gravel-covered hills in the Ferndell area of the state park, I think I would have shaved off 20 seconds and hit my goal, which was to finish under 26 minutes.

Ah well. Mile two was a killer, and I stopped to walk once after the hill. That's what got me.

Overall, it was the most enjoyable race I've done out of the six I've ran since April.

Everything came together: the weather was perfect, I was dressed exactly right so as to be not too warm or too cold, I ate breakfast and was hydrated, I wasn't really nervous because I had trained appropriately, I wasn't tired because I took off work the night before, I had time to warm up because I actually got to the park early and I had the great support of AB to park the car, hold my bag of essentials while I raced and catch me at the finish:

What a guy!

Alas, all wonderful 3-day weekends must come to an end. I'm icing my hurting knee in preparation for what will hopefully be a solid, sunny week of running in preparation for Saturday's Great Pumpkin Challenge.

It doesn't matter how slow you go, as long as you do not stop

2010-10-07T00:16:00.003-04:00

After mulling over some sage advice from AB, who is a much more disciplined and established athlete than I, I've decided to ease up on this week's 17-mile goal.

While I didn't think 5 miles more than last week sounded like much -- it could all be done in one extra day of running, after all! -- another way of looking at it, as AB pointed out, is that it's more than a 30 percent increase in mileage from week to week.

That sounds like a lot. And it makes sense. There's no need to risk injury when there are several races coming up. Add to this that it's been raining like Noah's ark is ready to float out of upstate New York, and I don't feel too bad easing down on the miles.

Like tonight -- I was planning for a couple easy miles, but when I got home around 10:30, it was cold and rainy. So, I opted for a glass of wine instead. Getting drenched during Monday night's 3.6 mile adventure, followed by a solid 3.3 miles under clear skies Tuesday was enough for one week -- at least until tomorrow.

I'll aim for a 14-mile week instead. Fortunately, Thursday's forecast after 1 p.m. is all sun/clouds and no precipitation.

Unfortunately, I'll never be as hilarious as this guy while running in the rain.

And in honor of breast cancer awareness month and one inspiring, proactive blogger, I'll sign off with a little pink to lighten the mood.

Weekend rundown

2010-10-03T23:45:00.000-04:00

Hours worked: 14

Miles ran: 2.74

Cups of coffee: 3

Loads of dishes/laundry done: 5

Hours of sleep needed, to recover from last week: 26

My plan for this coming week is very ambitious: Since I did not do the Pit Run today, and in preparation for the upcoming races in the rest of October, I will attempt to run five out of the next seven days.

My whiteboard currently looks something like this:

Monday: 4 miles
Tuesday: 5 miles
Wednesday: 2 miles
Thursday: 3 miles
Friday: Rest
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: Rest

With the itty bitty run I did earlier this evening, my total mileage for the week ended up just shy of 11 miles -- once an unthinkable number. My big training goal was striving for a 9-mile week just a couple months ago.

Now that a few, albeit nonconsecutive, 10- to 12-mile weeks are under my belt, it's obviously ~~freaking cold out~~ time to stop complaining about the weather and take my training to the next level.

Operation 17 Miles This Week has officially commenced!

Record Wednesday

2010-09-29T00:08:00.001-04:00

I'm not sayin' it's time to change the name of this blog or anything, but tonight there was definitely some fast running in Saratoga on my part.
I ran three miles in 25 minutes, and finished a full 5K (3.1 miles) a few seconds later. My average pace was 8:51 per mile, which is about 60 seconds faster than usual for my training runs.

Without even meaning to run fast, I kicked it up a notch tonight on the pavement, basically because I had dinner plans and I only had a limited amount of time to exercise. The adrenaline that would speed me along at a race suddenly flooded out in the anticipation of a fun, relaxing evening ahead.

25 minutes has been my 5K goal since June, but it's never really felt within reach. It was always like, "well, maybe one day when I'm a real runner, I'll run a fast 5K and finish first in my age group."

Tonight's run was the first time I've broken out of the 26th minute -- calmly, naturally and completely unexpectedly.

Now I've recovered and I'm full of home-cooked pad thai and it's time to go to bed. More running tomorrow night, hopefully, although this weather forecast from weather.com does not sound promising:

A wind driven heavy rain. Low 63F. Winds SSE at 15 to 25 mph. Chance of rain 90%. Rainfall possibly over two inches.

Natural remedies

2010-09-28T23:40:00.024-04:00

I had an intense headache when I left work tonight and shuffled the couple of blocks home through the dark, post-rainy-day mist.

It was a stressful, 10-hour day, complete with a few of the best headache-inducing incidents possible at work: having my computer crash multiple times, getting hung up on and not drinking enough water.

Every part of me yearned to walk in my door, throw my bags down, kick off my shoes and commence a full-on night of zoning out, complete with a large dose of ibuprofen, a nice tall glass/es of pinot grigio and a lame Netflix selection.

But no.

Another part of me wanted to go running and I knew that if I did, the headache would disappear on its own. I told myself that wallowing in the pain and calories would only lead to guilt later. Plus, due to work and traveling this weekend (check later this week for a post on Boston), it had been way too long since my last run.

So I set out for the East Side in the breezy, deliciously warm and humid evening and had myself a nice 4.6 mile run.

The headache was a distant memory before I clocked mile #2. Then I was flying up Caroline Street at race pace and keeping my breathing steady and strong, slowing down to a jog at intervals when I got tired rather than walking.

I ended it by taking on the same hill that served as the course finale at the Firecracker 4 in July. Compared to almost three months ago, my endurance was much greater. I ran the hill without stopping and did not come close to hyperventilating at the top, unlike last time.

It sure helped that tonight was about 25 degrees cooler than at that race, but I felt the difference nonetheless. I've done this hill since July 4th too, in other night-time summer runs, but not at the same steady pace and not without stopping.

With mission accomplished, I jogged home and flopped on the floor for awhile, pretending to stretch.

Then, I poured myself a nice tall glass of wine.

Self-pat on the back

2010-09-23T00:46:00.001-04:00

I took a hiatus from the office and hitting the pavement today, and drove down to Albany to hang out with other journos from the New York State Associated Press Association.

The Saratogian is a member of the AP, and this year I was given the opportunity to join in on their annual fall meeting, which was a day-long series of talks on state reform and accountability journalism.

For my part, I was asked to speak on a three-person panel with other winners of the AP's Depth Reporting award for 2009-2010, which I received for my series of stories published in November 2009 on homelessness in Saratoga County. The panel included a Times Union reporter and a Post-Star reporter. We spent about an hour talking about our investigative reporting projects and how they were managed in newsrooms with smaller staffs and less resources than ever.

What was cool is that people seemed genuinely interested in how the homeless series came together, and how I collaborated with editors, photogs, paginators and others to turn it from vision to reality. It was nice to be recognized for all that hard work I did last fall, when I spent countless nights at Uncommon Grounds, writing until I couldn't see straight anymore, wondering if it would ever be done, and if it did get done, if it would be worth reading. Well, I guess I got my answer!

The day was also a great opportunity to meet lots of other journalists from New York and the Capital Region in particular, and one also from Jackson, Mississippi -- the supremely accomplished and engaging Jerry Mitchell. He is an investigative reporter for The Clarion-Ledger there, and he told us stories over lunch about what it was like interviewing a former Ku Klux Klan member and how his work on Civil Rights-era cold cases ultimately led to several convictions.

If you're not a journalist, this might all sound like a big bunch of nerds gabbing about the seemingly strange stuff that gets them off, but to me, it was invigorating. It reassured my faith in the value of journalism and my desire to make it my career, despite all the tough stuff about the profession, and renewed my drive (which, I hate to admit, has been slacking considerably, lately) to keep going out there and telling stories, in some form or another.

Another notable part of the day was the appearance of gubernatorial candidate (in question) Rick Lazio ... although, from the way he ~~answered~~ avoided questions from the reporters and editors gathered in the room, his status as a candidate may change in a couple days.

We had a drinks-and-mingle thingy, then dinner, and ended the looong day with an awards banquet, where Saratogian folks were among those who got up to receive several awards for awesome work. It was great, but I also left feeling like I needed a new brain to hold all the stimulus in. Or maybe I just needed to come home, curl up side by side with my also-blogging boyfriend, and write about it all.

Oy, I can't wait to put on my sneakers tomorrow and blast the miles out!

Sick week lapse; next week will be better

2010-09-20T00:24:00.001-04:00

While this week was pitiful as far as physical exercise goes, it was pretty awesome in so many other ways. There was much consumption of rich food and alcoholic beverages, being irreparably spoiled by my amour and nice presents and cards and birthday wishes. All while dealing with one hell of a cold (the only part that was not awesome).

But now that my birthday week has come to a close, my cold has mostly disappeared, and I've got a couple of writing projects and the dishes out of the way, this weekend has been about getting back into my routine. That means running at least three times a week (no excuses!), going to sleep earlier and not eating such copious amounts of pizza.

Sunday, I ran from my home, up Broadway to the state park and looped around the Avenue of the Pines/Gideon Putnam Road and back, for a total of 4.9 miles.

<p>&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br /&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/detail/23241306/"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;iMapMyRun+: Sep 19, 2010 7:40 PM&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br/&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br /&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="#"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Find more Runs in Saratoga Springs, NY&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br /&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; ;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>

Saturday I did a similar route, but drove to the park and did two laps around the Ave. of Pine route for 3.78 miles.

Monday, when I was sick, I thought it would be a good idea to get outside and exercise after sleeping all day and eating almost nothing. Remember, this followed the weekend of booze and cupcakes. Well, I won't make that mistake again.

It was tough getting back into my groove again this weekend, and now I can't walk very well -- but, I caught a few minutes of that runner's high that I really missed this week when I was busy sitting on my ass.

The weather has been cooler and it was windy today, but it makes for great running. No need to buy special cold-weather gear. Yet...

However, October is full of challenging racing opportunities, and I'm probably going to need some retail therapy to get through them all:

Oct. 3: The 17th annual Pit Run on my home turf in Oneonta

Oct. 17: Saratoga National Bank Cross Country Classic 5K here in the state park

Oct. 23: The Great Pumpkin Challenge 5K to benefit Saratoga Bridges here in the state park

Oct. 31: The Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon and Squirrelly Six Mile in Voorheesville

I'm 25 and I'm fine

2010-09-14T23:52:00.082-04:00

It's minutes until the stroke of midnight on my official birth day, and I am sitting on the couch wrapped in blankets, popping cough drops, blowing my nose every two seconds and drinking tea. I guess that's what I get for partying all weekend long...

It was totally worth it though. While the weekend did not include any running, I did exercise my lungs a lot while laughing my head off with a couple of the best girl friends on the planet, as we worked our way through pedicures, a pitcher of margaritas, Mexican dinner deliciousness, Sunday brunch, and shopping. Phew. That's a long list of girly stuff.

Before all the girly stuff, a whole group of wonderful friends and family members joined me in celebrating a quarter of a century with a potluck picnic in the state park, as sunshine washed over us. I attempted to use an outdoor charcoal grill and baked cupcakes from scratch (not at the same time, both for the first time in my life!) and no one has called me yet complaining of food poisoning ... it's been more than three days so I think I'm safe.

In my family, we don't usually make a big deal out of birthdays, especially now that my sisters and I are older. We always take care to mark the occasion with a couple of cards and a special dinner with Mom and Dad, maybe a cake.

But this year is different. I'm celebrating so much more than a number and a day -- I'm celebrating, with relief and pride, the end of a long, tired period of grief and the renewal of self that could have only occurred after surviving a treacherous journey and conquering my personal Kilimanjaro.

Kinda vague, I know, but hey, it's the Internet.

This sentiment I attempted to make clear in a sort of speech at my birthday gathering on Saturday. It's sad but true -- I'm a whole lot more articulate when it comes to the written word, but I hope one thing came across in my garbled burst of emotion: This fall marks a real turning point in life and an occasion to acknowledge all the unanticipated goodness that has surrounded me this year. It has come in the guise of family and friends who never wavered in their love and support no matter the circumstances, as well as personal and professional successes. For all that I am grateful.

I'll give you readers a break now from all the serious stuff. My next post will be about something fun, like, you know, slow running. And how those cupcakes are contributing to my slooow, sloow running.

This post has nothing to do with running

2010-09-04T19:47:00.002-04:00

So it's almost 7 pm and I'm finding myself at home, having left the newspaper office after a day of writing and with an hour to think before I head out for the night to Job #2 and don't have time to think anymore.

I've been writing, writing and writing at work, even more than usual due to some short staffing, and then when I come home late at night, I've been trying ...to write...some more... to advance my personal and professional goals. But it's a struggle. I haven't been sleeping enough. My mind is too full. Sometimes I just need to claw my way out of my head, and I don't know how.

As usual, I am feeling anxious and overwhelmed about my current workload, and frustrated by how long it's taking me to complete things, and to put my goals into action. Weekends exist only as slightly less stressful days of work, but there is always work to be done. There is no time for mental relaxation.

Any other writers out there who really loathe the process of writing but feel compelled beyond your control to do it? Like there isn't any other thing you'd feel right spending so much time on but that saps your energy completely?

I mean, I love telling people's stories through words. A good story gives me a high better than any drug could.

For the first time, recently, I admitted to myself that this whole love-hate relationship with writing thing is not something that's really going to go away. If I'm going to write for a living, I better learn how to do it well without killing myself doing it. Otherwise, I'd better become a full-time pizza delivery girl, because what else is there for me to do?

Just kidding. Sort of.

Obviously, not so much writing has been going on the blog lately, and I haven't been running much this week either. I feel rather disgusting. I think it's a summer/fall transition thing. The seasons are changing, and with them, my habits. Spring and summer is when I go out into the world to be with people, drawing inspiration from nature and letting new ideas percolate. Fall is always full of beginnings for me, putting the ideas into action and spending more time curled up at home, writing late into the night.

As my birthday comes closer, the only gift I'm asking for is to figure out how to pay for life (i.e. student loans, rent, possibly food) and still have time for myself. It would be nice if that did not involve delivering pizza to drunk people until 2:30 a.m.

And with that, I'm off to deliver pizza to drunk people until 2:30 a.m.

Firsts

2010-08-26T13:05:00.000-04:00

If I've had any doubts lately about getting back on the pavement in a timely manner, and running the next race, what with the solid mass of pain in my calf, they're all gone now. And so is the mass of pain.

Maybe I just needed to do yoga and run five miles the next day!

Yes, five. That's what I ran Wednesday night after work. It was a first for me and a sign that I'm on the right track to getting ready for the six mile trail run on Halloween.

Warming up properly is what makes all the difference in sustaining the long run, but warming up is hard to do when you've been sitting at a desk all day and just want to get out there and start running.

What occurred to me last night is that I need to stretch and jog/walk about one mile/10 minutes, whichever comes first, to fully warm up. Then everything shifts into running mode. Last night was made easier by the perfect weather, and even a light spray of rain fell when I was getting super heated on the way back to Broadway. Plus, there was no traffic on the east side and smooth streets all the way.

It was definitely a workout I'd like to repeat soon.

Coming up next, according to my whiteboard, is a short recovery run tonight after work, Saturday morning yoga, and possibly some track practice Sunday at the SUNY campus when I head to Oneonta to hang out with the fam.

Unrelated to running but also a big first for me, here's some good news I received last week.

Autumn, yoga and birthdays on the brain

2010-08-24T23:59:00.010-04:00

It's getting to be that time of year again, when the dregs of summer are wasting away and we're on the brink of the fall. It's getting darker earlier, the humidity has vanished, and saddest of all, I have to sleep in pants again.

All of this, plus the leaves gathering on the sidewalk, my birthday plans in the making and the multitude of back-to-school stories I will be writing at work is getting me thinking about running and autumn and how they will go together.

There will be new, water-repellent gear to shop for, the ability to fly down Broadway again, when the tourons leave (thanks to Mariah for that awesome term) and the big decision I am mulling over: whether to run outside straight through the end of the year or reup my membership at the YMCA for the colder months. Come to think about it, I will probably reup at the Y no matter what, just for the yoga and cardio classes, and the steam room.

The adjustment to running through the changing seasons has already begun to take hold, like this weekend, when I had to work my run around the pouring rain that went on for two days. The lack of heat and late light is also lessening my desire to run at night when I get home from work, so an alternative is going to have to be found, and soon.

Saturday I felt so physically off before leaving the house for my run that I actually considered just going to the Y and paying the one-time use fee to use the treadmill for the workout. My legs felt like bricks, my head was fuzzy and I couldn't muster any happy running energy. What the heck, body?

But I ran through Skidmore College anyway, a much wiser choice than paying for the gym or just flopping on the floor at home. The pavement on the campus is springy and smooth, there is little traffic, and the hills were a new experience for me, and something I've been wanting to work on.

Unfortunately, my left calf didn't want to work, and it didn't like the hills at all. Since then, it has been a stiff, sore pain for the last couple days.

Sunday I rested, Monday I begged a leg massage out of my companion (he threw in a gourmet, home-cooked dinner too, yum!) and today, I left work early and blissfully walked straight to yoga.

When I sat down on my mat in the studio, my first thought was "Ahh, I'm home." This thought stayed with me throughout the class. I felt like I could spend 90 minutes every day after work in the yoga studio.

My goal is to make yoga practice a more regular part of my week, in addition to running. They work so well together -- the yoga opening up the joints, strengthening the core and training the mind to stay calm and focused, all amazing techniques that lend themselves to better running. And obviously, there is the benefit of helping heal and prevent injuries by keeping the muscles limber.

It's also that time of year when half of the people I know have birthdays, including moi, so there is some celebrating to be done and some cake to be had.

Look for another post soon, maybe about cake. I love cake.

Rest Tuesdays & A Racing Gorilla

2010-08-17T23:30:00.004-04:00

Ever since I started using a white board to schedule my workouts a few weeks ago, I've noticed that Tuesdays have had a habit of falling through the cracks.

The whiteboard. A place to record triumphs and failures.
YBB, by the way, is a DVD workout of yoga and strength training.

Most other days (except Fridays which are reserved for working two jobs back to back) I have been successfully finding ways to fit in running, and it is making me incredibly happy.

Like last night, for example, I multitasked to the extreme, dropping off a load of laundry at Cudney's and heading down South Broadway for a nice 3.48 mile loop around the east side while my car sat in the parking lot and my clothes got washed. I ran back to Cudney's, flipped the wash, headed to the grocery store while clothes dried, came back to pick em up and went home -- successfully minimizing my fuel usage and maximizing the time I had to get it all done.

It's ok, I know I'm a big dork. But it's the little things in life!

Tonight there was no such productivity, or there was in a different sense -- sleep productivity. After stuffing my face with organic vegetables and rice/bean deliciousness for dinner at Four Seasons, I waddled home to ... fall asleep with a bloated stomach for three hours, eliminating any chance for an early evening run.

So Tuesday was again a bust, but no matter. I'm looking forward to having two days off this week (!!!!), Thursday and Saturday, and will spend a couple hours combining yoga and long runs those days, in addition to a shorter run after work Wednesday night.

There are still, unfortunately, three weeks left of racing season here in Spa City, but as much as I'm looking forward to the Great Exodus, I'm already mourning the approaching end of summer. It's a good thing there are so many races happening in the area this fall. One I'm giddily excited just thinking about is this event, which I found on the Saratoga Stryders site tonight and am planning to do (the six-mile version, by the way): The Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon and Squirrelly Six Mile.

Another in October is the Saratoga Bridges Great Pumpkin Challenge.

Costume ideas are welcome.

Kickin' it in Brooklyn

2010-08-10T23:42:00.004-04:00

This weekend was about three and a half days long, and a real treat. It didn't end until today around noon.

Things did not start out well on Saturday though -- I overslept and barely made it to the race on time. It took every ounce of determination I had to actually run it, because I knew I wasn't feeling it the moment I got to the start. I eeked out the 3.1 miles in 27:22, a passable time, I guess, but not an enjoyable experience on three hours' sleep and an upset stomach. Never. Again. working until 3 a.m. the night before an 8 a.m. race.

I took a long, mid-day nap to sleep off the disappointment and my overactive nerves. Later, I consumed about a gallon of coffee between back-to-back trips to Uncommon Grounds and Saratoga Coffee Traders, where I sat around wallowing in my melancholy and doing some real -- as in, income-generating -- writing.

Things turned around on Sunday, when I hopped in the car with my companion and took a somewhat spontaneous trip to Brooklyn. On the way there, I got to sit in a lawn chair on the side of the road in Connecticut for a couple of hours, watching lots of men with muscular, shaved legs pass me by. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't ask.

In Brooklyn on Monday, my companion led us to JackRabbit, an awesome triathlon store in Park Slope. I got professionally fitted for the first time for a new pair of running shoes -- thanks to Todd the manager for all the help.

I also learned what pronation means and learned that my ankles pronate pretty severely. Hmm ... years of dancing on pointe shoes might have something to do with that. But the new shoes should help a lot.

The fun just kept on coming in the form of Mexican deliciousness, barbecue deliciousness, a drink with friends at the incredible Zombie Hut, and a long walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and exploring the city with my very expert guide. Not necessarily in that order.

151 7th Avenue (between Carroll St. and Garfield Pl.)
(718) 636-9000
Brooklyn, NY 11215

They're called "Mizuno Wave Inspire 6" and they put my battered Nike Airs to shame.

You had a good run NAs, but your time had come.

Mizunos are ready to run!

Insomnia

2010-08-07T04:10:00.000-04:00

It's t-minus four hours until the 5K. I got home from job #2 a little while ago and wasted some time wandering around the apartment, moving things here and there.

I've filled my water bottle. I've set my alarm clock. My clothes and gear are laid out, I've studied the route and I even remembered to hydrate tonight.

And I may or may not have eaten three greasy chicken wings at work.

All that is left is to ... have a panic attack. How is it that I only have one clean sock right now?

I haven't raced in a month and my ankle is still on the fence about whether it's going to be cool tomorrow and let me run at full capacity or if it's going to be a jerk and put me in pain. My stomach is starting to knot up.

The good news is that I fulfilled all my training goals this week and I really enjoyed my runs. Three workouts totaled 11.65 miles and the race will make the weekly total 14.75 miles -- a record for one week.

Tomorrow, or should I say, today, the weather is supposed to be clear and cool and the roads of the route are straight and smooth.

26 (minutes) is the magic number. Here's hopin' ...

Night owl/early bird

2010-08-03T02:28:00.001-04:00

Today I did something that was previously, as in six months ago previously, unthinkable: I woke up on a non-weekend day and went for a run in the daylight, before work, before doing almost anything else. In short, I started my work day with exercise, instead of ending it with exercise.

Now, this may sound unextraordinary to many of you early risers and jump-out-of-bed-at-the-crack-of-dawn getters-done, but to me, it is truly a feat. (Or possibly just a freak occurrence, so I don't mind if you stop reading this now and go back to Facebook.)

With the exception of a short stint as a school photographer in Tacoma, Washington in 2007, when I regularly rose at 5:30 a.m. or earlier each day to drive long distances and face gaggles of elementary school children as they lined up for their fall portraits, I have always been a staunch nocturnal being.

Thank goodness for 24-hour supermarkets, laundromats and gas stations. If not for them and their late-night services, I might never have a fridge full of food, clean clothing or a tankful of gas. Now if only the liquor stores would follow suit ...

I admire you greatly, you jump-out-of-bed-at-the-crack-of-dawn people, I really do. You complete a laundry list of tasks, and may even find the time to exercise, in the hours between when the sun rises and the time(s) I hit snooze.

And sure, I'd love to join the ranks of my family, friends and colleagues who operate on what Western society considers a "normal" wake/work/sleep schedule, both because life is more convenient that way, and so you'll all stop pestering me about my damn habits.

But the unpredictable routine of a 20-something journalista and pizza delivery girl by night does NOT bode well for this long-sought-after aspiration.

For example, one day I might enjoy a luscious lie-in until 11 a.m. and be scheduled to arrive at the newspaper at 3 p.m. for a night of copy-editing, which ends at 11:30 p.m. or midnight (like tonight. As an added bonus tonight, work on the copy desk included a round trip, 60 miles, to Troy, where we produce the paper when our Saratoga computer system fails, as it has all freakin' week. Yay, Citrix.) Then, for example, I'll get home in time to sleep a few hours before getting up at 7 a.m. to report on a school event that starts at 8. Or, I'll work a 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. shift on a Friday at job #2, then struggle to get to the newspaper before noon for the occasional Saturday shift. Throw in eating, showering, running, blogging, freelancing, keeping up with family and an attempt to have a social life, and I might as well not sleep at all.

When I am forced to rise early -- and when I must, I do -- my body does NOT cooperate well. My legs will take me to the place I'm supposed to be, and my eyes will be (half) open, but my brain is still sleeping. And if I haven't had time to down some coffee, forget it. For your own sake, just don't try to talk to me before 9 a.m. Sorry to say, I will not be a very pleasant or a very productive person at this hour, and many of my beloved family and friends can feel free to vouch for me on this in the comment section below.

However, I find that running has been gradually, slightly, changing all of that.

Case in point: When I ran the Firecracker 4 race on July 4th, I was excitedly recapping the experience over dinner to my sister Maureen later that same day. Sitting in on the conversation, eating his barbecued ribs contentedly, was my most favorite early riser, an easy-going and kind-hearted person who may be less accustomed to -- although he is quickly learning about (and I hope, learning to ~~love~~ tolerate?) -- my sleeping habits, than my family, who have understood for years now that calling me or asking me to do anything important before 10 a.m. is pointless.

So, I told Maureen that I had voluntarily -- in fact, eagerly -- risen at 7 a.m. on that day, a Sunday, to prepare for the 8 a.m. race.

Her mouth went agape.

Aghast, she turned to my good-looking, rib-eating companion and warned him, "You know she doesn't do that, right?"

"I know," he replied, with a smile and some degree of complacency.

But, fantastically enough, I have done that. And though I'm not about to give up night running and all of its magic (more on that in another post) I will continue to do that for races -- Saturday is the Fasig-Tipton 5K at 8 a.m., which I'm planning to participate in -- and, with any luck, for the occasional pre-work workout. Because running tired and early is better than not running at all.

Speed work

2010-07-28T23:52:00.001-04:00

Have I ever mentioned that I have multiple jobs?

Maybe once or twice ... ?

Well, although two of them are very part-time, living this way has been putting major logistical strains on my time for blogging and working out these days, but I am doing my best to fit it all in. And hopefully the multiple-job situation will end soon.

Last night I got back on the pavement for the first time since Wednesday and it felt awesome. The long gap had a lot to do with my painful left ankle (plus work and a general lack of energy) and a desire to rest it up for good. I think five days off from running was enough.

The run was fast and powerful and sustained -- unlike any I have ever had, even in a race. Although I left the house feeling tired and heavy from a long day sitting in front of a computer, as soon as I started running I got the urge to go fast. I was so excited to be back out there and my body was being so cooperative that I couldn't resist the urge to do it, even though it meant straying from my usual mantra -- take a few minutes to warm up to a 9-minute mile pace and sustain it for as long as possible, with the goal to build stamina.

So I tossed stamina out the window and focused on speed. I sprinted down Lake Avenue, hit the valley and continued up the sloping hill. No ankle pain!

When I looped back down Caroline Street and hit 2.5 miles, I forced myself to slow down a little and not overdo it, for my ankle's sake. But when I returned to Broadway I didn't want to go home, so I sprinted back and forth a couple times in front of an elderly couple watching me curiously from their bench near City Hall. Total = 3.7 miles, 38 minutes, including some walking in between sprints.

Tonight was pretty good too, although I traveled less and dealt with some pain in the other ankle and calf -- although this feels like just a sore muscle that will ease up in a couple days.

Speaking of speed, if my life was made into a movie, the year 2010 up to this point would only take up about 3 minutes of it ... (How is it almost August, already?! I'm just getting around to changing the floor mats in my car from the winter ones to the regular ones!) ... And the 2010 part of the movie would be a montage, of course, which would have to include a shot of me zipping down Broadway at dusk on this sweet ass bike:

Popular belief and my general ignorance about cars may lead you to believe that I am not a motorized vehicle buff, but this hot orange Stella scooter just turns me on. I almost stole it off Lake Avenue this morning. It goes 65 mph. What can I say?

39 and counting

2010-07-23T23:01:00.001-04:00

Here in Saratoga Springs, we have a little something called the race track. Today was opening day at the races, and in an attempt to cure myself of a bad case of the late-July blues I've been suffering with, I've composed a list of things this silly season indisputably means to me.

(Cue Julie Andrews:

"When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feeeeeeeeeeel

sooooooo bad")

The List:

1.) It will now take about 15 minutes longer to drive anywhere in town.
2.) Everywhere you look, there's a tourist stroking/trying to take a photo with/drunkenly trying to jump up and straddle a painted fiber glass horse statue or one of the City Hall lion statues.
3.) For the next six weeks, I will no longer be able to find a parking spot in front of my apartment.
4.) There's no point in trying to run on Broadway at any sane hour of the day or evening -- it's too crowded
5.) It's fun watching people strolling across Broadway at Lake Avenue when there's a red light but a green left-turn arrow that they don't notice. And then they wonder why they get honked at.
6.) It's raining.
7.) More people order pizza when it's raining.
8.) Trying to park in The Saratogian parking lot during non-business hours practically requires handing over your social security number and DNA to the crotchety security guard to thoroughly convince him that yes, you are an employee of the newspaper and you are entitled to park in the lot, for the whole night, without paying 10 bucks to do so, and without getting towed.
9.) The line for coffee at Uncommon Grounds is out the door.
10.) Caroline Street. Enough said.
11.) And, finally, the season means a new and chic addition to my wardrobe. And by new I mean foisted-upon-me and by chic I mean apparently designed to attract snickers from interview subjects and neighbors, and excite dogs. On second thought, maybe the dog just liked the smell of my perfume...

Just like a bridesmaid dress, you can wear it again.

Workin' for the weekend

2010-07-18T23:49:00.000-04:00

It's Sunday, and you know what that means. Don't you?

When I work a Tuesday through Saturday shift at the paper, Sunday is my one day of rest before another working week.

Since I usually get home around 3 a.m. from job #2 Saturday night, I try to drag myself out of my delirium and out of my bed before ~~11 a.m.~~ ~~noon~~ 2 p.m. so I can:

write my column for the newspaper
race to complete a long list of domestic tasks
squeeze in a run
and a long-distance phone call to a dear friend who's planning her wedding!
and, if I'm lucky, conclude the evening cooking dinner and relaxing.

Tonight was only slightly different from the norm, in a good way -- somehow, I managed to do all of those things in way less time than usual.

On my 3-mile run this evening, I discovered what I think is a new favorite route: Lake Avenue (starts off with a long and low uphill climb) to East Side Recreation Park, where there's a pavement track that circles a skate park and passes a baseball field. Why didn't I know that this track existed before today?

Anyway, I went around it a couple times at race speed and got in two half-miles under five minutes, with walking in between. Then I ran out of the park onto Caroline Street for a steady and easy trek back to Broadway. This part of the workout seemed effortless after the short, fast periods on the track and the uphill climb. I maintained a 7 mph pace without stopping for the entire last mile. This was made possible by the lack of humidity, fiiinally. Overall, running conditions were pretty perfect tonight -- a slight breeze, 70s and cloudy with no chance of rain.

Here's the route:
MapMyRun - LakeAve/EastSideRecTrack/Caroline in Saratoga Springs, NY

After that, it was time to refuel with an amazing veggie burrito. I concocted so much of the inside mixture yesterday that I'm going to be eating it for a couple more days.

Borrowing a cue from my new friend and food blogger, Rebecca, here is a visual of the amazing veggie burrito:

Looking forward to checking out Phila Fusion with her tomorrow!

S.R.S. returns, with a tan

2010-07-12T19:03:00.002-04:00

Hello again!

I forgot to mention one big item in my list in the last post, which would have explained why it's been quiet around here the last week.

I went on vacation, first to Oneonta for July 4th and then to Cape Cod for five glorious days of enjoying wonderful company, 90-degree weather, the ocean, the beach, swimming ponds, Provincetown, the beautiful scenery and much delicious food and drink.

While I was there, I fully intended to blog, but all of the above were, shall we say, slightly distracting.

I made it a point to run a couple times during the week though. The runs were short, about 2.2 miles each because of the intense heat. I carried a water bottle with me, ran as early in the day as I could, and slathered myself in sunscreen.

You can't really beat running along the shore: When your view is a harbor full of sailboats bobbing in pristine blue water, your feet are kicking up beach sand and the sweat is rolling down your face and into your eyelashes, all the stresses, worries and complications of work and day-to-day life melt away. The only thing that matters is inhaling, exhaling, and hearing the pounding of one foot and then the other on the ground. You are left with the simple thought "Life is good."

Near my running route, with Wellfleet Harbor in the background.

Here is a picture of my route around Wellfleet Harbor, with Cape Cod Bay to the west and the National Seashore and the Atlantic to the east.

View Cape Cod run in a larger map

When I returned to Saratoga, I met up with my bestie Emily, who was visiting from Brooklyn, for a weekend of girls-only fun. Thanks to The Saratogian, we scored a majorly awesome surprise Saturday night: red-carpet access to the New York City Ballet gala at Saratoga Performing Arts Center, where we were wined and dined, saw two breathtaking performances, and later, sipped champagne and ate chocolate eclairs several feet away from two members of ballet world royalty: City Ballet master-in-chief Peter Martins and his wife, the Balanchine-trained ballerina Darci Kistler.

I tried not to stare but was very, very unsuccessful.

I'll wrap things up with a quick update on the Firecracker 4 last Sunday:

Had a decent run, finished in 36:30, and felt better than I ever have after a race (i.e. little risk of barfing).

Still standing after conquering four miles at 8 a.m.

Could this race location be any more convenient?

The start/finish and activities were located in the Algonquin building parking lot.

Thank you to the Caroline Street resident who provided a mist station, (i.e. sprayed the runners with a hose as we passed by) and King Brothers Dairy of Schuylerville that handed out samples of chocolate milk afterward.

It was fun to see some friends, as well as some former and current coworkers from The Saratogian both running in and covering the race.

Let's just say the whole week, from Sunday to Sunday was, if not the Best Week Ever, the Best Week in a Long, Long, Time. Yay.

Now that the temperature has dropped from an uncomfortable 92 degrees to a nice, brisk 87, I think it's time to suit up and go for a run.

Red, white, blue and grey

2010-07-01T02:04:00.000-04:00

Bye Bye Birdie

Unfortunately for her, and to my great joy,

this feathered foe was forced

to find new digs today.

How's that for some alliteration?

I'm really looking forward to this weekend for lots of reasons.

In no particular order:

No. 1 at the moment is because I'm hoping to score some quality time on my clean, bird-free balcony, perhaps enjoying a cold beverage in the warm sun, perhaps while recovering from Sunday morning's race.

No. 2, naturally, then, is Sunday's road race, the Firecracker 4. It's an annual 4-mile race that kicks off the city's Fourth of July celebration. It starts and finishes just outside my apartment building at the City Center, goes straight up Broadway, swings around the East Side, then hangs a left for a long journey down Excelsior Avenue, ending with a short but steep hill going past the Courtyard Marriott hotel.

About 2,000 runners are expected to be in town, double the amount from last year. Hopefully there will be lots of spectators coming out to hear the musicians along the course, browse the vendors and listen to the live announcer.

Registration is still open now, and is through the morning of the race. Sign up here.

This will be the largest race I've participated in to date, which probably means I'll be finishing way back in the pack, but no big deal. This time, I'm mostly concerned about racing against myself, and enjoying the sense of community provided by the event.

I've been training hard the last week, running an average of 3 miles every workout. Monday I ran 4.11 miles in 38 minutes, and even spent the first .75 mile walking briskly. Finishing in that time despite the walking really pumped up my confidence -- I hope to finish the race in 36 minutes.

No. 3 is because a major project at the newspaper will finally conclude on Saturday evening as Sunday's paper goes to press. If you're interested, read about the Ben Franklin Project, here. Note the final paragraph of the post --

"The second phase of the Ben Franklin Project is for all 18 Journal Register Company daily publications to publish — both online and in print — on July 4, 2010 using only free web-based tools."

-- It's what we've all been consumed with at The Saratogian for the last six weeks or so. Let's just say it's been a month-long headache for everyone that will hopefully result in some positive changes at Journal Register Company and maybe even in industry-wide.

No. 4 is that after the race and recovery Sunday, it's off to Oneonta for the hometown Fourth of July festivities, complete with my sweetie, the Fam, a visit with my favorite out-of-town lovebirds, spiedies (you have to be from upstate New York to be fortunate enough to know what this delicacy is, or at least be dating someone from upstate New York), and fireworks, of course.

Ok, end of list.

Check back later this week for a training update, and Sunday or Monday for race results.

Accessories, accessories

2010-06-27T14:14:00.007-04:00

This week was all about shopping around for the right accoutrement to help me bring my training to the next level.

First, my new armband arrived in the mail from the Apple store, allowing me to wear my iPhone as I run rather than carrying it like I have the last few days.

This getup replaces my iPod-sized armband, which has served me well over the last few months, but my tiny little app-less iPod is no match for the iPhone and all the magical things it can do ....

... like MapMyRun.

This new app has successfully tracked all my stats in real time and mapped out the route for me as I run. It also gives me a live audio update of my pace, time, distance, etc., during the run every .5 mile.

It automatically integrates your data with the website, so when you go online after your workout, you can see everything you've done on a calendar, a graph or a list.

Using the website, I can see that in the last two weeks, I've run 17.81 miles during 3.82 hours over six workouts. This knowledge is so motivating! As cheesy as it may sound, I find myself anticipating the workout more because I'm excited to log the info when it's over.

I kicked it up a notch this week and went for four runs, if you count Sunday (which I do), Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. I'm getting better at planning ahead to schedule them in around work and other activities. It is something I can count on feeling good about even when the world is at its most depressing.

It was one of those weeks at the newspaper when I had to make one of those phone calls that makes me sick to my stomach.

For the record, I have competently conducted interviews with lunatics, angry people, intoxicated college students, senators, CEOs, homeless people, victims of crimes and people who just escaped from their house before it burned to the ground. But speaking to a grieving parent or family member beats it all.

Writing these stories leaves me (and my liver) wishing, at least temporarily, that I was in another line of work. And yet, as one of my editors (always the optimist), said to me this week, interviewing people in their time of loss 1.) gives them a chance to memorialize their loved ones publicly and 2.) is perhaps even cathartic for them.

As a journalist and someone who is naturally empathetic, I feel humbled to provide service #1, but #2 is sticky territory.

What are your thoughts on the intersection of local media and personal tragedy ?

App attempts #1 & #2

2010-06-23T00:07:00.118-04:00

I didn't need an iPhone app, or an iPhone for that matter, to inspire my first real run. I didn't need one to complete my first 5K (or three) either. But I am now a proud iPhone junkie, and the other day I felt compelled to combine my iPhone love with my running love and buy an app called Couch to 5K by Felt Tip.

New friends

The concept is a 9-week training program of 20 to 40 minute workouts three times a week that will supposedly enable one to run 3.1 miles without stopping or walking. Sounded perfect for me.

On Monday I giddily downloaded the app and then drove to the state park to try it out, breathing in the warm -- but not too warm -- air as a sweltering afternoon turned into a comfortable dusk.

You can start anywhere you want in the week 1-9 sessions, which gradually work you up to a full run, so I placed myself at the beginning of week three, starting with a 5 minute warm up then moving on to 90 seconds of walking and 90 of running, then 3 minutes of each. It ended with a 5 minute cool down.

The whole time, I was psyched to find out how far I'd traveled and at what pace, because when you are training for a 5K, these details are a powerful motivator to have at your disposal.

But did the app track my speed, distance or pace? Did it monitor my heart rate or calories burned? Nope! Apparently, these functions are just too much for Couch to 5K and you need another app to do them. So, I quickly downloaded RunKeeper for just this purpose, but alas, you can't operate both apps at the same time.

Now you can call me cheap, but what I got for the $2.99 I shelled out for Couch to 5K was hardly worth it. The extent of its functions was basically to give me a choice of a male or female voice (or a little beep, how novel!) telling me when to walk or run alternately for 28 minutes. Verrry disappointing.

RunKeeper was free (although there is a more sophisticated version you can purchase), so when I tried it later and it didn't work I was a.) not surprised and b.) not too disappointed.

I will continue to search for a better app and see how it works. I also have an exciting new accessory arriving in the mail any day now that should make for some fun training. Stay tuned ...

Note: This post was written Tuesday, June 22, but there was a delay in posting it until Wednesday night.

Weekend Over

2010-06-20T02:54:00.001-04:00

It's 2 a.m. and I'm winding down another weekend of waking up bleary-eyed after late-night shifts delivering pizza, writing a column for the newspaper, and squeezing in a trip to Oneonta for a family barbecue and other fun stuff. Getting the dishes and laundry done got sacrificed so I could run this evening instead.

The temperature was hovering somewhere around 80 degrees, or possibly higher, at 6 p.m. when I went out for an hour. It was slow going because of the heat and I should have brought a water bottle, but I managed 3.72 miles running/walking and felt great afterward. So great that I enthusiastically wolfed down a pulled pork sandwich, a salad and a Rare Vos at Bailey's tonight. mmm.

So anyway, I took a meandering route along the East Side and tried some new streets. Here's my route:

View Sunday 6/20 training in a larger map

I'm not very happy that I only ran twice this week. I took Monday off and went to a yoga class for race recovery, worked late at the newspaper Tuesday, attended a work-related fancy dinner on Wednesday night and left bursting at the seams from that, ran two miles Thursday at 10 p.m. and on Friday night, went straight from job #1 to job #2, which made for a wonderful 13-hour work day.

So as I'm preparing for the Firecracker 4, a four-mile road race on July 4th, my next major hurdle to get over is to make time to run at least three miles, three times a week and absolutely no less. More would be better, but lately life has been overflowing with things to do. For the most part, they're all good things, so it's hard to pick and choose what to cut out. I feel lucky that way.

For example, this week, I interviewed for a freelance writing opportunity that I feel really optimistic about, both because of the content of the work and because of the earning potential. But it seems almost impossible that I'd be able to manage yet another job. Do I risk it and quit Domino's so I can concentrate on a new project? What happens when the project is over?

I'd like to find a way to dedicate myself more seriously to running and also be able to pay the bills. What's a slow girl to do?

For the moment, the answer is: go to bed.

P.S. The one exceptional news item from today is that because I have an awesome landlord, the pigeon infestation problem is getting swept away this week! I'm certainly not going to cook the pigeon egg and eat it, but if anyone is interested, it's all yours. Come and get it quickly, before animal control gets here and does whatever unspeakable thing they're gonna do with it.

Rainy day, silver lining

2010-06-14T00:30:00.000-04:00

They say luck is when preparation meets opportunity, and that's what happened Sunday at the Read Run 5K.

Despite all the worrying and whining I did the other day, I finished in 27:37, my best time yet and a full 28 seconds faster than the last race May 23. I was number 146 out of 427 registered participants.

How did I do it? Don't ask me. I'm just relieved it's over and I didn't throw up.

Here we are shuffling over the start line. This is the first time I didn't wear my "lucky" Brockport cap and the first time I've used my iPod during a race.

Race registration: $20
New running gear: $45
High-fiving the dude dressed in Daffy Duck
costume along the course: Priceless.

It was a good run, and I'm happy with the results, although the weekend was not ideal for a race and all the other stuff -- job #1, job #2, maintaining a social life and the lack of sleep had me overwhelmed to the point where I could not enjoy the achievement until long after the moment had passed. (And after post-race indigestion and nausea had finally passed as well. Come on stomach, work with me! The legs are doing fine!)

I learned a lot from the training leading up to it and the race itself about pacing, eating and drinking properly for running, and adjusting my game plan according to circumstances, such as weather and energy levels, as they change from moment to moment.

After that not-so-great run, er, stroll, on Friday afternoon, I drove to the state park a few hours later to try again, and I ran for real about 2.5 miles with the music pumping in my ears and the trees along the Avenue of Pines sheltering me from the sun. I went to job #2 feeling much better about things.

Later, I took a break to eat some free pizza, and received a stern yet sympathetic pep talk from Mr. Fast Running Saratoga himself. Awesome.

Saturday was rest day and it rained all day so I burrowed inside for most of it before heading to a dinner party, where I met some cool new people, chatted with some cool people I already know and enjoyed lots of delicious things like grilled sausage, potato salad and brownies. I'd say my calorie stores for the next morning's effort were above what was necessary. I also was drinking water nonstop. That was all the preparation part.

It was a nerve-wracking late night Saturday. I came home from work at 3, laid awake for two hours, and then slept for three before somehow forcing myself out of bed and to the library -- getting there was one of the hardest parts.

Mom decided at the last minute to get up early and drive to Saratoga and stand in the rain to cheer me on. Thanks Mom! Her appearance and the fact that it was cool and wet outside Sunday morning helped me to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep running when I wanted to walk.

I know it's too soon, and I have a lot of miles to cover first, but I can't get the words "half-marathon" out of my head...

Friday Fail

2010-06-11T14:04:00.013-04:00

Today's run was supposed to be practice for Sunday's Read Run 5K, and I wanted to check out the course, which does one small and one large rectangular loop around the East Side, starting and ending at the library on Putnam Street.

But if Sunday goes anything like today did, I'm screwed.

I went to meet Kellen at the library around 12:30. We are both registered for the race, and he had graciously agreed to join me for the practice course (and I'm guessing will never agree to that again, after my pathetic performance). I haven't run all week, so I already knew I was in for a struggle, but I was looking forward to finally getting out there and moving and also, I hoped having faster company would push me to do well.

The Fail began with poor preparation last night, when I went out first for girl's happy hour with Emmy and Lauren, and later with my beau. It was a great night and a great morning until I attempted to hit the pavement. I got up late and had to eat immediately before leaving, so there was no time to digest the half a bagel I scarfed down with some OJ. Also I didn't drink enough water before going out, which was probably slightly dangerous because it's 73 degrees out.

We started off at a fast pace up Spring Street (a hill) and kept going until I had to walk. We jogged and walked intermittently the whole way because I could not maintain a steady pace in the heat and my breathing was all out of whack. We kept to the sidewalk for awhile, which was hard in places like Nelson Avenue where there are brick paths with edges sticking up everywhere. Otherwise the course is pretty easy and flat, and I think they're closing off the roads for us so the brick sidewalk will be a non-issue.

When we turned onto Caroline Street for the last few paces, I started running as fast as I could to the library. That was the best minute of the whole outing. Those 29 other minutes? Not so much. To top it off, the soreness in my right hip flared up again half-way through. I am worried it will turn from a minor discomfort that's happened once or twice this whole year into something more serious.

I walked home feeling totally discouraged. I want to go out right now and try it again, just to feel like I got a real workout. I am also worried about getting up in time Sunday, because registration closes at 8:30 a.m. and I probably won't get home from work until 3 Saturday night. It's gonna be a stretch.

Hopefully the adrenaline will kick in like it has the last two races, and help me get out of bed. I'm glad the race is in town and I don't have to drive to get there. Also, the weather will surely be cooler at 9 a.m.

I will be sure to drink a lot of water and eat a carbohydrate-rich dinner Saturday night. I'm setting my goal low -- to maintain the 28 minute finish from three weeks ago.

Check back Sunday for results.

P.S.: On a side note, another reason I am pissed off is because the pigeons have once again reclaimed my balcony, and get this: they built another nest and laid another egg. Their feathers have gotten caught in my window screens and their crap has once again covered the floor of the balcony, after I spent two hours scrubbing it off last month. Any hope I had of enjoying the view out there this summer is quickly fading.

Ta da!

2010-06-09T21:52:00.029-04:00

I am not a fast-moving person.

I never leap out of bed in the morning, gulp down a meal and make a beeline for my destination. I'm not a very speedy writer or speaker either.

I am someone, however, who spent the majority of her childhood and teenage years rushing from one parent's house to the next and then rushing to school and rushing to dance practice and rushing back home, where I rushed to finish all of my homework before bedtime. Rushing was the default mode I operated in.

At some point in college, all that rushing finally began to catch up with me, and I was moving so fast for so long that I forgot why I was doing the things I was doing. And I wasn't enjoying any of them.

Now that I am approaching a quarter of a century old, I've decided that it's time to slow down.

Hence the name of this blog, Slow Running Saratoga.

The timing of the blog's birth (I've been laboring with the decision to start it for about three months) just happens to be significant, as I've lived in the same town for exactly two years today (!), the longest I've inhabited any one place in eight years. I've been employed at the same newspaper, also, for exactly two years.

In this space, I will attempt to post regularly about my adventures, both training and racing as a new runner, and as someone who has finally slowed down long enough to notice the beautiful people and scenery that have always populated, and, for some reason unknown to me, continue to populate the course of my life.

As a new runner -- and as someone whose body was not built for the purpose -- being slow is no problem. Today I can run a 9 minute mile if I push myself hard, which is a big improvement over December 2008, when I went for my first real run and averaged a 13 minute mile.

Obviously though, the eventual goal is to run fast, or at least faster. Specifically, I'd like to run a 5K (3.1 miles) in 25 minutes or less. At my first race, in April at Saratoga Spa State Park, I only hoped not to die before crossing the finish line, and crossed my fingers I would do it in 30 minutes. I ended up finishing in 28:27.

Here I am slowly sprinting the last .1 mile past some random guy:

May 23, I cut my time down by 22 seconds at the SPAC Rock and Run, which was also held at the state park. But this time some of the course was on the grounds of Saratoga Performing Arts Center (SPAC). It was a lot hotter and a lot more crowded than I was prepared for. Still, I didn't die.

Now I'm preparing for the Read Run 5K for Literacy on Saratoga's East Side, on Sunday morning. I'm delighted to once again be joined by my friends and coworkers, Kellen (in the race), and Eric (taking photos).

So that's it for tonight, with the exception of some major gratitude:

Thanks to Bill Callen, a wise journalist and (now) PR guy for providing the spark and lots of writerly encouragement!

Thank you, Eric, for taking photos of the SPAC race and letting me use one here as the header.

Thanks, Kellen, for agreeing to come along on the runs and for giving me something to strive for. (6 minute mile? Me? As if..)

Thank you to my family, for cheering me on from afar and for not asking if I was joking when I first told you I went for a run and I liked it.

And thank you, Andrew, for cheering me on from the sidelines, helping with the blog design and for so expertly leading the way.