Just another manic... January

Busy busy busy lately. Lots of running, lots of work, lots of family, and little time for blogging. So instead of worrying about writing something witty and insightful, I'll just cut and paste an article I wrote for The Herald-Times a few weeks ago about running in the cold weather. The irony of the thing is that after this article was published I have since run twice on the treadmill. Honestly, though, for living in Indiana, twice on the treadmill in the winter is a pretty good record. I am looking forward to going to Houston on Friday to run in the U.S.A. Half Marathon Championship (on Sunday) with highs in the 60s and lows only in the 40s.

In other Bloomington running news, there was a woman attacked on the Rails to Trails just north of Country Club Road in late December. This really freaked me out, as well as lots of other female runners in town. The Women With Will group organized a "Take Back the Trail" walk/run yesterday and it was covered by the H-T in today's paper. I have run on the Rail Trail numerous times since the attack, but always with at least one other person. We have seen some creepy people out there in the past (in tents, with guns, sitting in the woods, etc.). Despite the horrible acts this woman had to endure, this event is a very good reminder to always be observant and to tell people when and where you are running if you have to go out alone. I am debating buying some mace to run with, but given my klutzy tendancies I am worried I will end up spraying myself with it accidentally and never actually using it, so we'll see...

Stay warm, stay alert, move forward, and stride on!

HeraldTimesOnline.com

COMMENTARY
Holiday lights a bonus for running in a winter deep freeze

By Jessica Gall Community columnist December 19, 2008

Many people tell me I am crazy for running as much as I do. So many people, in fact, that I am numb to the comments, as numb as my hands are after five minutes of running on a Midwestern winter day. Yet, during the long winter months and short winter days, these unsolicited mental health diagnoses become stronger and more frequent.

“Are you insane?” is a frequent one, along with, “that cannot possibly be a good idea,” especially when the wind chill dips into the single digits. I was not born with any extra insulation, so no, I do not enjoy freezing my backside off (and often the front too, depending on which direction the wind is blowing).

But the endorphins win out over the goose bumps nearly every time. As for now, the advantages of living in the Midwest outweigh the sugarplums and fairy tales that dance in my head and whisper about these magnificent places where people don’t have to put on three shirts and two pairs of gloves to run outside.

Besides, there is no better way to take a tour of holiday lights through Bloomington than in the self-propelled bipedal fashion.

Ever since I was little, I loved Christmas lights. It is likely genetic. My dad puts so many Christmas lights in and around our three-bedroom single-story ranch in West Lafayette that I am surprised the city council has not made a new sign ordinance to address the issue (and the drain on the local electricity grid). Running is a great way to fulfill my desire for multicolored plastic glowing bulbs, while not having to endure the effort of hanging any up myself.

When my poor pops plugged in the dozen strands of lights he had left on the outdoor trees from last year (anything to save time and money), it was a terribly disappointing display.

Only a few puny strands emitted their Christmas spirit for all the neighborhood to see. Alas, if the Indiana climate proves too harsh for outdoor “weatherproof” light bulbs, why would any sane individual run through it?

After a recent onslaught of claims of insanity due to my outdoor habit of perpetual forward motion, I became slightly less numb to them and entertained the notion of their merit.

Yes, perhaps the treadmill is not the evil machine I remembered it to be. How could it be, if the machines at the YMCA are always jam-packed when I glance at the cardio section on my way to anywhere else but the large belts of monotony?

So I packed my gym bag with only shorts and a T-shirt one recent frigid December day, knowing that would force me to run inside. I even uploaded a new peppy play list of music to my iPod, as I noticed even the retired men at the Y wear iPods in the cardio section.

I may be an experienced runner, but I consider treadmilling a different sport (much like baseball vs. cricket — baseball can take an agonizingly long time, but the matches do not last for days as its English predecessor can), and was taking any social cues I could get.

After four miles on the treadmill (on a normal day I will run between eight and 16 miles), I ripped the earbuds out of my ears, grabbed my water bottle and walked away from the black master of boredom dazed, confused and abnormally sweaty. I decided running outside with the change of scenery, even in the cold, was better than the treadmill.

Once I stepped out the door, though, a blast of wind changed my mind, and I trudged back toward the human version of a hamster wheel.

I did finish my run inside that dreary day, but I also determined that I am not necessarily the crazy one for running outside.

The crisp cool air in my lungs may sting, but it reminds me I am alive, and I find it a better stinging then the sweat in my eyes after five minutes on a treadmill.

The harsh wind outside may cause every exposed piece of epidermis on my body to cringe, but even in the dark, there is a sense of accomplishment for having survived the elements.

Crazy, insane, nuts — you pick the adjective, but while you are deciding on one, I will bundle up and head out the door. I have got Christmas lights to scope out and miles to log.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye 2008

Lots happened in the running world, and in my own running nation-state as well, during 2008...

The Olympics
I absolutely love the Olympics, and 2008 did not disappoint. Olympic fever started for me in April when I participated in the U.S. Olympic Team Trials - Women's Marathon in Boston. I went in with a hip injury and knew it would not be healthy nor smart to run the whole race, so I ran at the front for my (literally) 15 minutes of fame. Some day I'll be running at the front for the whole race instead of less than three miles. Nonetheless, it was a great experience, and by not finishing I was able to watch the finish and see a convincing win by Deena, a breakthrough for Magdelena, and a redeeming moment for Blake (no, I don't personally know any of them, but I like just using their first names). Despite those impressive races, my favorite moments of the weekend were:

1.) Sneaking a camera phone picture of Joan Benoit Samuelson before the start (no, I'm not a stalker, just to shy to actually talk to her and say what a fan I am)
2.) Watching my friend, former training partner and an all-around amazing person Heather May give it every last ounce of her being to finish with a PR
3.) Making a new friend, Camille Herron, who is now a West Sider, a new teammate and training partner and great person as well
4.) Watching the Boston Marathon the next day, including watching Coach (a.k.a. Judy Wilson) finish strong

The summer Olympics were likewise exciting despite not seeing them in person. I have always rooted for Shalane Flanagan as her mom is a native Hoosier, but to see anyone come back from food poisoning to win a medal in a track race is just plain jaw-dropping. That 10,000m race was also the highlight of the Games for me as Amy Yoder Begley, Indiana running legend, also participated. The marathon races were dissapointing for the Americans, and another one of my favorites, Paula Radcliff, but great reminders that even the best of the best cannot win them all. Other favorite moments were former IU teammate David Neville getting bronze in the 400m and gold in the relay, Bryan Clay winning the decathlon, and, of course, Michael Phelps. Amazing.

Injuries
These things stink, big time, but I learned a lot about my body, renewed my passion for the sport, and moved on. Hopefully less of my running time will be devoted to injuries in the future, but if fate intervenes I know from this experience with my hip that I can, and will, overcome it.

Watching Deena's foot snap in half three miles into the Olympic Marathon was heartbreaking for many, but obviously had to be excruciating both mentally and physically for her. Hopefully she can pop "Spirit of the Marathon," into her DVD player and remember that she, too, has a good track record of overcoming injury.

Team Indiana Elite
Ok, this has very little worldwide running relevance, but it was a big part of my 2008. I have a great training partner thanks to T.I.E.W.B. (Team Indiana Elite Women Bloomington), and enjoyed all the conversations and miles with Dani Prince in 2008. I also have a very good coach in Robert Chapman and I think his training will pay off in not just 2009, but in 2010, 2011, and then the next Olympic year. Brooks also gave us more than a pullover and some too-short pants this year, and developed a neutral cushioned trainer that doesn't feel like a boat with laces, the Ghost, so I am very grateful to that company for its support.

Marathons
I did not run any this year, but Dani ran Columbus and won, which was just fantastic. Also, my dad ran his first marathon, the Indianapolis Marathon, and is now hooked. I have created a running monster with him. These two marathoners have me very excited to take another crack at the epic event in the fall of 2009 (Twin Cities? Chicago? I am still not sure which one).

The Weather
Warm, wet, cold, dry, windy, icey, snowy, hotter than Haites, the list is endless. Turns out global climate change was not a hoax after all. Who would have thunk it? This is the first year I have not slipped on the ice and injured myself, though, for which I am extremely grateful!

Here's to a fast and fun 2009! Stride on friends!

Another Thanksgiving, another Drumstick Dash!

I awoke at 5:30a.m. on Thanksgiving morning to my dad blasting Christmas music from his iTunes library. That was my cue; it was time to get going to Indianapolis for our annual pilgrimage to the Drumstick Dash.

Dad was way more excited than I was in my state of sleep deprivation; nonetheless, I do always look forward to this race. There is no better way to start off a holiday than with a run raising money for a good cause. I met Tony, and later Allison, and we did a little warm-up then muscled our way through the masses toward the start.

Over 7,000 people showed up, but the star of the day was indeed Gerry Giblets. Gerry, who is rumored to be a former IU All-American and Olympian not named Bob Kennedy, who was the race starter, always gets a head start. A glorious trophy with a little turkey on top is the reward for the first male and female runner to tag Gerry. I crowded my way to the starting line in hopes of catching Gerry as early as possible then jogging the rest of the way.

The gun went off, and around me zoomed a four-foot tall frizzy-haired girl in a neon yellow long sleeve shirt. I figured she went out too hard, and she did, so I returned the favor about two minutes into the race and passed her back. When I slapped Gerry's wing two-and-a-half minutes in, I realized it was kind of sad that I took such glee in out-running a middle schooler. Actually, though, I was doing her a favor by teaching her to be tough and to aspire to run smarter next time!

After about a mile I finally caught up with my dad and paced him to an average of 8:06 per mile pace for 4.5 miles, over 16 minutes faster than his time last year! I may have won a small trophy with a turkey on top, but Dad was the won who deserved an award for such a huge improvement. And my knees greatly appreciated the faster pace as it hurt them to run over-10 minute miles last year.

The rest of the day was filled with driving, family, actual turkey and hitting golf balls into Crooked Lake. I am extremely grateful for my running abilities, but more grateful for the people I get to share them with, and also for all the people who wouldn't give a darn if I didn't run. Hope you all had a terrific Turkey Day yourselves.

Marvelous Marathoners

As this marathon of a weekend comes to an end, I couldn't be happier for my dad or my training partner Dani. Pops ran 4:24 at the Indianapolis Marathon on Saturday, averaging just over 10 minutes per mile. Not bad for a guy who a few years ago ran the IU Open 5k where the following Monday the IDS reporter covering the meet remarked that there was a Santa-like man bringing up the rear as though he were "looking for some milk and cookies."

On Sunday Dani conquered Columbus and beat out all the other women to take first in 2:48. Also not bad for someone who only a little over a year ago would be hurting during our 12-mile long runs after a 60-mile training week. I squealed like a pig when I got her voicemail after our T.I.E. long run at Morgan-Monroe revealing the good news. The whole run I kept thinking, "Gee, Dani is probably at mile 10 by now. Gee, I wonder what Dani went through halfway in. Gee, I hope Dani is doing well!" And boy was she ever doing well! Next year we will run Chicago together and people will be making a documentary about that - bring it on "Spirit of the Marathon!"

Back at the Indy Marathon on Saturday, I also had the pleasure of running with Brenda, one of my (many) physical therapist friends, who was hoping to qualify for Boston after narrowly missing the mark earlier this year at the Rock 'n Roll Marathon in San Diego. It was nice to catch up with her and hopefully have helped her a teeny weeny bit with her goal. She finished in 3:39 and is now Boston-bound.

After I ran with Brenda I turned around and jogged against the crowd to find my dad again. When I first saw him that day, just after the 7-mile-mark, he was yelling random stuff at people (i.e. he saw someone with a Drumstick Dash shirt on and yelled, "Go Dashers!" as if anyone had any clue what that meant), and even jumping up and down for a few pictures (I carried my camera with me the whole way). The second time I saw him was at mile 15, and his stride was much shorter, so I hopped in and tried to make small talk. He said he felt okay physically but mentally was hurting. I made it through 18 with him then had to stop because running 10-minute/mile pace makes my knees ache something fierce. When I saw him again a little after mile 20 his head was so far down I could see the very top of his black Brooks Pre-Nat's hat I had given him from when I placed in the top 25 at that meet 3 years ago. I made him lift his head up and we progressed through the next six miles.

Out of all the miles I have run in my life, I will never forget running miles 25-26 with my dad yesterday. The whole last six miles I was debating in my head if I should say something "daddish," such as "Just go faster!" or "get your butt up that hill now, Gall!" all typical sayings that have fallen out of his mouth during my races. With immense effort I managed to bite my tongue and make only postive or contructive utterances.

All of a sudden Dad said to me, "I have been waiting this whole run for you to say 'why can't you just run faster?' to me like I used to say to you. Well, every muscle and bone in my body is sorry, they all say sorry!"

This run, for him, gave new meaning to the old saying "walk a mile in another (wo)man's shoes." My dad ran 26.2 of them, and I couldn't be prouder. A sure sign that he is his daughter's father is that he has called me multiple times since the marathon yesterday to tell me he is mad at himself for not running the last two miles faster and finishing under 4:22, and wants to pick another one to do so he can run faster. There is now officially no hope at recovery. Another running-addict is out there on the streets. Lock up your stores of Gu and Gatorade, folks.

Antsy

I am antsy all over right now. I am antsy to cheer on my dad in his first marathon in Indianapolis on Saturday. I am antsy to hear how my training partner, Dani, does in her first marathon in Columbus next Sunday. And I am really antsy for an entire year from now when I run another marathon myself. Being antsy for an entire year is too much to handle, so I will have to find ways to distract myself in the meantime.

The antsy-ness boiled up inside of me last night when Dani and I watched "Spirit of the Marathon," on DVD. Even though I had already seen it, that dramatic orchestra music in the background and the visuals of 40,000 people striding through the streets of Chicago made my heart rate race in anticipation. There is a whole year of waiting and training left, and that's if I don't manage to fall and bruise my kneecaps and ribs (like I did two weeks ago) right before the race, or get some other bizarre injury.

Today Dani and I tagged along with Chapman and the Team Indiana Elite guys to do our semi-long run in Deam Wilderness south of Lake Monroe. I wish digital cameras were smaller so we could have ran with one and captured the beauty of southern Indiana on a sunny fall day, the light sneaking in between tree limbs, illuminating the dirt particles we kicked up with our Brooks shoes. The only part that was not so scenic was all the horse poop we tried to jump over, but other than that it was nice and peaceful. It was the first time I had run in four days because of my "deep bone and cartilage bruise of the patella." Although the knees still ached, I truly did enjoy it. It was the perfect distraction from the days and days, and miles and miles, left to go before marathon day, fall 2009.

Four months and eight days

Today marks the first time in four months and eight days that I have done a hard running workout. Over a third of a year ago I was in Boston struggling through two-thirds of the Olympic Marathon Trials, left shoulder hiked up and right hip hiked out, a twisted mess of a runner.

Thanks to months of physical therapy, stretching and strengthening, pools and bikes, new shoes and a new beginning, I finally did a lactate threshold run today. I spent all of last night conning Dani into doing it with me early this morning on her one chance to sleep in this week. Being a good friend and teammate, she obliged and we met at the Rail Trail before the sun had fully risen. Through the fog we jogged an easy warm up before hitting the Clear Creak Trail, marked every half mile, for a four-mile LT. We agreed to do the first mile around 6:45 per mile pace, but despite her fatigue Dani took off at 6:00 minute pace. I huffed and puffed and we slowed down to a comfortable 6:30 or faster pace the rest of the way. This was by no means a blazing workout, especially given it was slower than my marathon pace.

The past was irrelevant, though, it was all about living in the (four-mile-long) moment. By the last mile I felt as if I could go a couple more and that was such a fantastic feeling. To once again have my heart beating rapidly, to have the slight discomfort of exertion permeating my muscles and lungs and to have the endorphins, was glorious.

I sat on my butt the last two and a half weeks watching the Olympics, watching people give every last ounce of their being to propel themselves beyond their previous physical limitations. That too was glorious, but it made me wonder if I still had that in me, that ability to red-line for the sake of the challenge. It had been so long since I had done a gut-buster of a workout or pushed myself through a never ending long long long run. While today was neither of those occasions, it did feel good to go hard. This once again proves I am an insane masochist. Bring on the pain - and the gain! Luckily, as watching the Olympics reinforced for me, I'm not the only one!

Cheers to London 2012!

Summer days wasting away

Due to my OCD and perhaps a little to my journalism training, I have a hard time posting anything I don't deem of at least decent quality, so please forgive me for the lack of posting. Since I have last posted anything I have been quite busy, but who isn't busy, so that is no excuse!

Thankfully, part of that being busy has been with more running than I have done in months! The doctor finally released me to go do my own thing, and I graduated from pool physical therapy. I have my last land appointment scheduled for next week. As much as I am glad to be healthy (or healthier) again, it will be really sad to not go to physical therapy. Even the therapist who calls me an "uptight white girl" is really good at what she does and I really enjoy joking around with all of them. And I think they might be the only people in addition to anyone in the School of Journalism in town who actually read my little community column in the newspaper, so I have got to give them props! Last week I finally got back up to forty miles, and everything feels pretty good. I'm not falling apart, yet... Over the Fourth of July weekend I got to do my traditional run and then jump in the lake (thanks to cousin Cathy for swimming to the Island and back with me), and the next weekend got to visit Cheese Country and lovely Oostburg, Wisconsin with my amazing roommate Jane. Her sister took us to a state park to run, and it was so hilly I got in my first workout in three months. I seriously think my heart rate had to be near its max on the steeper climbs. It made me feel so out of shape, but it hurt so good!

Besides running, the main reason I have been busier than ever is that the J-school is hosting fifteen Iraqi undergraduate students for five weeks. We knew it would be a difficult and time-consuming event, but until we met them in person and escorted them back to the Heartland of America, I had no idea what I was in for. They mostly want to shop (iPods, digital cameras, clothes, and wandering around College Mall are popular), so my lectures about Congress, politics, leadership, Indiana Limestone and journalism are not exactly thrilling. Some days I go to sleep thinking about Iraq, I dream about Iraq, then wake up and spend all day with Iraqis. I feel like I am in the Twilight Zone or something... but overall I am learning a lot about management, leadership, culture, and both Kurdistan and Iraq. A majority of our students are from Kurdistan in the northern section of Iraq, where there is relative peace and security and virtually no U.S. military presence. Another new thing I learned about Iraqis - they hate walking, and I make them walk everywhere, so you can guess how much they like me for that!

In non-running related news, it seems a number of my techno-savvy relatives have stumbled upon this little blog of mine. In honor of this discovery, I'd like to give a shout-out to cousin Gary recovering from his big surgery. May the scars heal quickly so we can once again push you into the lake when you're not paying attention!