I Came, I Saw, I Ran

Hola.

Well, it's been a couple of weeks since the Ottawa Marathon and I'm sure that you are all on the edge of your seat wondering how I did. Well, I finished. I PR'd, but I did not break 5 hours. My chip time was 5:00:39. But you know what? I was thrilled.

Welcome to Our Nation's Capital!

The days leading up to race day were really stressful and scattered. Miguel found out that he had a job interview and the only day they could do it was when we were supposed to be in Ottawa. So we had to scramble and rearrange his flights so he would fly in Friday evening instead of Thursday morning with me. After 3 calls to Air Canada, we eventually got it sorted and off I went.

Unlike previous marathons, I tried to do this one right. This time, no shopping trips to Montreal the day before the race. No staying up til midnight drinking wine and stuffing my face the night before. This time it was a sensible dinner and a quiet evening before an early bedtime. As a result, there was no oversleeping when the alarm went off the next morning. Go figure.

This is the 5th time that I've done this race and third time that I've done the full marathon course. You'd think that I'd be a pro at it by now. But sure enough, when I got up that morning my thoughts quickly switched from "What should I eat?" to "What can I keep down?" I was a bundle of nerves! Luckily my bagel never made a reappearance and I and my nervous stomach settled down as we got to the start line.

Oy vey, it's hot! Can I get a glass a wahtah ovah heah?!

It was an awesome day, beautiful sun. It was a little warm and whenever I tried to pick up some speed I would start to feel ill from the heat, so I knew it would be smart to finish slower than my goal pace instead of in an ambulance.  I mean, it's not like I was in it for the money prize, so why waste a good marathon by passing out from the heat, right?

Taking it a little easy may have stopped me from breaking 5 hours, but I shaved 6.5 minutes off my last marathon time and I came away with some serious new resolve. I *can* do this in under 5 hours if I train right and lose some weight. And even when my training sucks because of all of the obstacles life throws at me along the way, I can still accomplish what I set out to do - run a good race and do my best.

So in the end, I was undefeated.

Will they make me take this off at airport security?

Ottawa Race Weekend is so much more than a race for me. It's a weekend filled with the love and support and kindness and hospitality of my Ottawa family.  My dear friends who follow me around the city for 42.2 km every year - rain or shine, who have waved signs and made t-shirts and have run along side of me when I thought I couldn't take another step.  They make sure I know the route before the race and they celebrate with me after it's done. These people go out of their way every year to make sure that I'm able to do my best.

And then there are the friends and family who cheer me on and encourage me even when they can't be there on race day - though I like to imagine that they're hitching a ride in my pocket.

I hope they know how much I love them.

I get knocked down...

Hey kids, I'm back.

I wish I could say I have been on a fantastic adventure for the past couple of  months, but alas it's not that exciting.  I've been through some ups and downs and all along training for a marathon.  The most recent "down" knocked the wind out of me pretty good, almost to the point where I wanted to throw the towel in on the marathon.

I've been less than happy at my job for quite some time. Running, as you know, has been my coping mechanism for dealing with things that make me less than happy. Through the winter, running wasn't making me feel any better. Every run seemed slow and painful from head to toe. Zero energy, zero enjoyment. The weather didn't help. Ice, wind, snow, slush. It all sucked.

Then there was a ray of light.

I was offered what I thought was my dream job. I accepted and resigned my old position that I had for almost 9 years. Suddenly I was full of energy; every step I took was a bounce. I was lighter on my feet than freakin' Tigger.

And then there was dark again.

My dream job was cancelled before I even started. Suddenly, I was not only without the job that I had looked forward to so much, but I was completely unemployed. *Expletive*. After I stopped sobbing, the first thing that came to my mind was "How am I going to run a marathon?" Funny, I think most normal people would wonder "How am I going to pay my mortgage?" or "How am I going to feed myself?".  It's not like those things weren't important, but running was my coping mechanism to get through those kind of struggles. I felt truly defeated.  Enough so, that I thought about just giving up and hiding from the world on my couch. 

I'd like to tell you that I suddenly had a revalation that nothing can beat me and I'm much stronger than this, but it didn't happen.  I sobbed some more. I made some calls and started connecting with people and looked for job leads. And the next day I went out and ran.  I don't think I'm running now because I look forward to the release - not like I used to. Now I run because it's normal. For now, I have no desk to sit in by 9:00. I have no reports due every second Tuesday. My training schedule is what's keeping me sane, like I have a purpose besides sitting at the computer emailing contacts and searching for job postings. 

I used to post each and every run to all my social networking outlets. It was my pride and joy. Look! I ran! I felt great! Look! I ran and it was raining! WOOT! Now, I don't post them at all. I want to keep them to myself for now, because how I feel during these runs can't be summarized by a smiley face or even a frowny face with a bandaid on his head.

So I'll keep plugging away and in a few short weeks I'll run the full marathon in Ottawa. When I cross the finish line, regardless of my time, then I will know that I cannot be defeated.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I realise that I’ve been MIA for a while. When I started this blog, I really wanted it to be purposeful and not just the ramblings of my inner thoughts at any given time. I mean, do you really care what I had for breakfast today or what my commute was like? Something much more exciting than bagels and traffic happened recently. I turned 40.

I can’t say that I completely dreaded turning 40.  I think because I am not married with kids like many of my friends of the same age, I kind of feel like I’m still in my 20’s - but with a better budget.   Anyway, I had been reflecting a lot about how I got to where I am right now and I’d like to share with you what I learned.  So here it is:

What has 2 thumbs and loves cake? THIS GIRL!

Niffer’s First Forty Years of Insight 

I spent a good chunk of my life trying to repress a lot of my personality - things that make me who I am. I’m a high–energy person who is very sensitive, too. As a child I was told to calm down. When I got older, I was told to be quiet, stop talking so loud, don’t take things so personally. Suck it up. I was told that people were laughing at me, not with me. Because this was coming from people I loved, I believed them. I tried my best to be quieter, calmer, more even keeled. But all I accomplished was ending up hating myself and being uncomfortable in my own skin.



In my mid 30’s I found myself more or less on my own with time to think about a lot of things. I also had no one to tell me how to behave. After a lot of time brooding and healing, I started to get a very interesting feeling. I started to feel like “me”. It was a very comfortable place. I started having fun again and I channeled my energy into things that made this feeling grow – running, cooking good, delicious food, spending time getting to know new people and making new friends.



Being 40 also means embracing
your style with no fear.

And you know what happened? I discovered that there are people who love me for who I am. They tell me that they love my energy and spirit and they like being around me. This shocked me. How could these people care so much for me? Many of them haven’t known me for very long. How can they find good in the same things that I’d been berated for by people close to me? 

Don’t get me wrong, feeling loved for who you are is a great feeling, but I was genuinely confused. At first I assumed that they really didn’t know me and once they did get to know Full-On Niffer, they’d back off. But they didn’t. Then I assumed that they were being kind to my face and annoyed behind my back. But they weren’t.  These people actually love me. The real me. The loud, crazy, jagermeister-loving, dirty-joke telling me.

It feels amazing.

A little gift to myself - Tiffany style

 So today, I’m going to stop doubting and questioning and analyzing why people love me and accept it and embrace it. I think the biggest thing I’ve learned in my life is to love yourself. I know that sounds cliché, but it’s really true.  Embrace your own quirks and characteristics. Be genuine. Be who you are with no pretenses and people will love you.  They may not be the people you expected to love you, but they will love the true you and you’ll never spend another moment trying to be someone you’re not. It’s a very wonderful place to be. Trust me.

If you haven’t hit 40 yet, I hope it helps inspire you and if you’ve already surpassed the Big Four-Oh, I’d love for you to add your own pieces of wisdom and knowledge.

PS - I was lucky enough to spend my birthday weekend with many of these treasured friends. Shopping, drinking, eating, laughing. Best birthday ever.

Excess Kills Success?

???lbs - Don't even ask.

I’ve always been a person of extremes.  I don’t go at something half-assed; it has to be all or nothing.  I have two speeds - stop and go.  Mind you, this doesn’t dominate every aspect of my life) don’t ask me to pick a restaurant, we could be here for days) but it certainly seems to take hold of me when it comes to how I live a healthy lifestyle.

Why have one beer when you can
hang over the keg?

I’ve been blessed (or cursed) with some crazy energy.  It’s the kind of energy that is loud, animated, and to many people, probably pretty annoying.  It’s this energy that has pushed me from a 5k to a full marathon. It’s what makes me load up the weights in BodyPump class so I am lifting heavier than anyone else.  “Go big or stay home” has always been my personal motto, but I’m learning that there are some major downsides to this and my weight loss success is suffering as a result.

One problem with being super-charged is that it completely wipes out my ability to moderate what I eat and drink.  When I’m in that moment where I’m flying high, there’s no stopping what I put in my mouth and how much of it.  Some might suggest that this behaviour is binge eating/drinking, but I don’t agree. It’s never to soothe or cover up feelings. I just get so caught up in my own energy that I’m like a boulder gathering speed as it rolls down a mountain (or the Tasmanian Devil at an all-you-can-eat buffet).

If they were this big, I'd only eat one. Maybe.

Eventually the boulder has to come to a rest, and that’s the other problem. When I’m high on excited energy I don’t slowly float back down to earth. I crash down hard and I end up feeling lethargic and sad.  It’s the antithesis of runners high. I’ll come back from the hardest, most insane workout feeling on top of the world but as soon as the sweat has dried to a salty crust on my face I’m a sullen mess (not to mention very sore).  Realising that this probably isn’t normal, I’ve been checked out for the possibility of being bipolar, and that’s not the case. I just have a personality that’s prone to big swings. 

This cycle of up-down-high-low-on-off is really messing with my weight loss and I’ve had enough.  It’s like my metabolism has decided to say "Holy crap, lady. An extra large pizza and a half marathon on the same day? Screw you until you’ve got your shit together”.  I really need to learn moderation. Everything in moderation, right? But how the heck do you change something so engrained in your personality?  Can you learn to step outside of yourself and resist that urge to go all or nothing?  What are the tools to change that? 

The True Story of Carl the Spider

183.6 lbs -  *blank stare*

Carl the spider moved in some time in the early summer, though I couldn't tell you exactly when. He set up camp in our kitchen, building his web on the window between the cactus and the windowsill. While we normally don't allow insects (or in this case, arachnids) to take up lodging in our home, the fact that Carl spun his intricate web in such a precarious place made us rather fond of him so we decided to let him stay.

Hi! I'm Carl!

That, and he's better than any fruit fly trap on the market.

We watched every day as Carl 's web would snag a fruit fly and  he would venture out from the cactus to retrieve his snack. Day after day he would do this and to our amusement, he actually started to grow. I'm not talking super-natural tarantula size or anything, but he certainly was getting bigger.

However, as summer progressed, Carl seemed to grow complacent. Fruit flies came easy to him. Unlike his free-range relatives, Carl didn't need to work particularly hard for his daily bread. And it started to show. He rarely came out from under the fake flower glued to the top of the grocery-store cactus. His web started to fall apart and was no longer a strong work of natural art, but a couple of threads clinging desperately to the window. He just didn't look good. Carl was phoning it in.


Vegging under the flower



As I watched Carl's decline, I realised how much he resembled the way we live in a modern world. Our lives are easy. It's easy to pick up the phone and order a pizza, delivered at our doorstep in 20 minutes or it's free. It's easy to forgo a workout and lay on the couch instead.  I may not have a web in serious decline, but it certainly wouldn't hurt if I got off my ass and pushed a Swiffer around this place - there's enough dog hair here to knit a sweater.

It's easy to become complacent when things are easy, but that doesn't mean it's good for us. Things that matter take effort. Get off the couch today. Go to the grocery store. Make an amazing, healthy meal.  Play hard. Sweat. Heck, maybe even put away that stack of newspapers on the kitchen table. Care about yourself enough to not take the easy route, and take pride in the life you work hard to make.

Lookin' good, Carl!

There's a happy ending to the story of Carl. After the sudden appearance of a second spider (clearly someone who wanted in on the easy life), Carl got his act together, booted out the intruder, and renovated his web. He looks stronger and no longer vegetates under the fake cactus flower. He stands firm in the middle of the web, waiting to pounce. Today, I think I'll pounce, too! (but not on flies).

True story.

I Better Be Good to Me

179.6 lbs - Whaaaaaaaaat? Seriously? Aw, come on.



 "Be good to yourself". Have you heard that before? Maybe you've told someone you care about to do that when they're facing a time of crisis. Or maybe someone has told you the same thing when you were in the middle of some rough times. Or maybe you heard it on Oprah. What the heck does that mean, anyway?

I suppose it depends on who you are, and what you consider "good". Being good to yourself could mean anything from treating yourself to a cone of Melted Snowman ice cream to ease a bad day to buying yourself a BMW Z series because you worked so hard this month. "Good" is in the eye of the beholder.

I developed my own definition of being good to myself when I was post-divorce and living alone for the first time. I was struggling with depression and anxiety and had taken a leave of absence from work while I tried to get my proverbial shit together. That was my opportunity to figure out just what being "good to myself" meant to me. This wasn't a hard excercise; it was self-preservation back then.  I had many long, hot baths. I curled up with countless glasses of wine and watched movies. I read. I took classes at the gym and sat in the sauna afterwards with my iPod, listening to music that made my cry and release the hurt that I had been hanging on to for the whole process of ending my marriage. I learned about aromatherapy and growing herbs. I painted. I ran in the rain. I snuggled my dogs. All these things made me feel healthy - inside and out. 



Recently, I have been feeling like I've lost sight of much of what I had learned in my time alone. Day to day stress, compounded by a job that makes me unhappy and the recent health emergency of Miguel as left me feeling beyond out of sorts. Feelings of fear and anxiety are creeping back into my melon. I've been thinking a lot about those years I spent alone and how I was able to find solace in so many things. I'm a much different person now, in a much different situation.   I'm realizing that while I still enjoy a glass of wine and my tub, my world has evolved and I need to identify and recognize what grounds me now when things are topsy-turvy. But how does one do that? Where do you start to look for the things that soothe your soul when you feel like you're unravelling and running out of string?

Luckily, I haven't had to search too hard. I've started being aware of the moments when I feel relaxed and I'm making a concious effort to be mindful of it and enjoy that moment. Things like spending time at the cottage. Digging my toes in the sand. Going for a run in the middle of nowhere. Napping in Miguel's lap. Sharing breakfast with him on the back deck in the morning sunshine. And even writing this blog - with the hopes that my thoughts and experiences might reach even just one person.  All these things would never have had the same effect on the Niffer of 5 years ago. The Niffer of today, well, that's a different story. We're always evolving, and it never hurts to take the time to figure out what makes you feel safe, secure and whole again.

So tell me this: Are YOU good to you? How do you do it?



Toes in the sand! Ahhhhh!

 

Even Nandy knows how to relax.

Location: Middle of No Where.



Run Release Repeat

178.4 lbs – So that’s what happens when you stop coping with carbs…

If you haven’t realised it already, running is one of my few passions.  I’m not particularly fast – I will never qualify for Boston – but I can go forever. Running is my meditation. Do not even think about asking me to sit still for 20 minutes and let my thoughts pass through my mind and disappear in the sky. Hell no. I am far too fidgety for that. But ask me to put on my running shoes and my iPod packed with songs from 80’s pop to angry rock, and I can easily sort through my worries and come back with a new perspective on life.


My first marathon medal



I started running when I was in the middle of an awful divorce in 2004/2005. I joined the Running Room’s learn to run program in search of making new friends and getting out of the house. What I discovered is that I much preferred to run alone.  I was a bit like Forrest Gump in that once I started running, I just kept going. Not continuously, but as I reached one distance goal, I instantly set my sights on the next. A 5k race turned into a 10k, which turned into a half-marathon, which of course became a full marathon.  I went from a 5k race virgin to a marathon finisher in 24 months. 

A good long run eases my mind, soothes my soul, and makes me feel like I’m part of the earth again.  My inner pain and worries and anxiety feel like they’re flushed out with every drop of salty sweat on my face. It gives me time to think and reflect.  I also was able to burn off feelings of anger, fear and anxiety. Running gave me back strength and power when I felt my weakest and most vulnerable.  It made me feel like I had accomplished something in a time when all I felt was loss.

With the recent upheaval going on in my life in the past couple of weeks, I’ve needed that release as much as ever.  When Miguel was in the hospital, I found it nearly impossible to get in any kind of movement. My days were spent going between work (I have no vacation time) and the hospital. It seemed selfish to say “Sorry baby, I can’t be there after your cardiac cath, I gotta get in my 8K tempo”. Knowing how important it is to me, Miguel insisted, but I waited until he was home safe and sound before I decided to head out for a run – about a week and a half after everything fell apart. 

I expected the usual rush of endorphins releasing the tension and fear.  Instead, I struggled to breathe. It was hot, and my head started to ache. I got painful stitches in my side and back. My legs felt wobbly.  I kept going, thinking that I just needed more time to find my rhythm, but when I was still suffering at 5k, I threw the towel in and walked the last 2k home. I was crushed.  Not only did I still have the anxiety of a loved one with an illness, but now I had the added pain of losing my high.  How will I deal with all this crap if I can’t get my high?

This is what release looks like

Miguel, in his infinite wisdom, comforted me. “It’s just a bad run” he kept saying.  While normally I’d flip out at the notion that it was “just” anything, this time it actually rang true. It’s a blip. We have blips in out lives that bump us off the trail, whether it’s a heart attack, a marriage ending, a job loss, a crappy run. Things will not always go the way we want or need it to. What’s important is that we put our shoes back on and try again.

And I did.

The next day, when the sun was a little lower in the sky and the heat a little less stifling, I set out on an easy 5k. The first km was iffy, I was a little sluggish and wondered if I made a mistake going out again. But soon after, my legs were pounding away, my lungs were heaving steadily, and the anxiety was pouring down my face - just the way I needed it to.


 

What is your release?  What do you do to put your head back where it needs to be?