I gotta feeling...

WoooHoo!

So I did it. I ran the San Diego Half Marathon. Before you ask, No, I did not beat Valerie. But I don't want to talk about that right now.

Its been a week since my plane touched down back in D.C. As I've gotten back to my real life, I've been thinking about the race. Strange thing is, I hardly remember most of it. Which to me, is a little crazy. I ran 13.1 miles for pete's sake. Wouldn't a person remember that?

To be honest, I only remember small snippets of the race.

THE GOOD

• The beautiful scenery - the sun rising over Point Loma, boats on the San Diego Bay, the beautiful homes along the race course.



• Running with Joel and Brian - we crossed the starting line together and as they pulled away from me, watching their shirts disappear among the 8,000 other racers.



• The homeless guy at Mile 11 - as I climbed the massive hill at the end of the course, a homeless guy was there cheering us on and yelled "Hey, sweetie, smile! This is the best part!" Thanks, friend, I needed that.



• The turn into Balboa Park after Mile 12 - after running a 300 foot change in elevation during the last half of Mile 11, the course took us on a turn into Balboa park. The road was lined with American Flags and cheering people. Just as I turned into the park, as if on cue, my ipod started playing "I Gotta Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas. How appropriate.



• Finishing 13.1 miles - 'nuff said.



• Having my family cheer me on - Until now, I had never run a race where I had anyone cheering me on from the sidelines. I knew my family would be at Mile 10 waiting to cheer as we ran past. That knowledge kept me going. I cannot describe the feeling you get as you see the people you love standing in the distance, waiting to cheer as you run past. It is priceless.

THE BAD

• The 300 foot climb at Mile 11 - aka "The Death March." You try climbing the equivalent of a 30 story building over the distance of about half a mile, AFTER you've already run 11 miles. Holy Crap, that was hard.



• Having to face the fact that Valerie Bertinelli is faster than me. Don't even get me started. Now, Jenny Craig is airing commercials about Val's half-marathon. Is Valerie trying to rub it in!?!?!?!

THE UGLY

• The realization that in 5 months I'm going to have to double that and run 26.2 miles. What in the world was I thinking?

On Monday night, the day after the race, we went out to dinner. My in-laws took us to a restaurant that overlooked downtown San Diego. As I took a sip of my champagne, I asked my father-in-law to show me where Point Loma, the starting point of our race, was. As he pointed off in the distance, I was overwhelmed. Looking out from that beautiful restaurant, San Diego and the entire 13.1 miles unfolded before me. I ran that. I totally ran that.

I am extremely blessed.

Ewe's not fat, Ewe's fluffy

When I was a kid, my mom made tons of cross-stitched pictures to hang in our house (I guess you could describe my mom's decor style as "country chic"). One of these country works of art featured a fluffy white sheep. Across the top read the words "Ewe's not fat" and along the bottom, "Ewe's fluffy."

I hadn't thought of that cross-stitch in years. Until the other night.

I was hanging out with some friends when someone commented about the fact that I had been running. Since I started running - I've dropped a few pounds and from time to time, people comment on it. During this conversation I received a comment that I had, until that moment, never received in my life. Its a good thing a friend said this to me. If it had been a stranger, I would have decked him.

Here goes...

The comment began with "Well, Jenn, before you started running, when you were fat..." and ended with "... that's generally how fat people feel when they lose a lot of weight."

Excuse me?

Fat?

Hold up. I am not, and was not ever fat. At the time this guy said it, I just smiled. I tried to take it as a compliment of sorts. If he considered me fat before ("when" I was fat), he must consider me thin (or at least thinner) now. Right?

As we drove home, I thought about this comment. Sure, I now fit in jeans that I would never go near before (you know, the ones that have sizes like 26? Those jeans were always too fancy and small for me before - they never seemed to come in a size 30 - the size I'm sure I would have needed). But I would never have considered myself fat.

In that moment, my mom's cross-stitched sheep flashed before my eyes and I had to smile. Who cares what any one else thinks? I thought I looked good then and I think I look good now.

Nope, I was not fat. If anything, I was just fluffy.

Ladies and gentlemen, start packing your bags

Today I leave for San Diego - Yeah! I've decided that San Diego is a race of "Firsts."

1. First half-marathon
2. First destination race
3. First time running with family cheering me on
4. First time running in weather one would actually describe as "pleasant"
5. First time I try to beat Valerie Bertinelli's half-marathon finish time (watch out Val, I've got your number)

And I can't wait! Now that I've got my bags packed, that is.

I travel fairly often for my job. Not to brag or anything, but I am a pretty good packer. I refuse to check my bags, the airlines always lose them. (Flashback to my honeymoon when the airlines lost our luggage for nearly 5 days. All my pictures in Southern Italy feature me in the same back sweater and khaki pants. The outfit was cute the first day I wore it ...) Now, I can take a week long international trip to a cold location and carry on. Gooo me!

So, when it came to pack for San Diego, I never once thought there would be an issue. Oh how wrong I was. Do you know how much space running stuff takes up? Holy Crap.

I began, as usual, by laying everything I needed out on the bed.

Cute running outfit for race day? Check.
Water bottle? Check.
Running watch, heart rate monitor, and charger? Check.
Ascis Gel Nimbus 10s (my running shoes)? Check.
Strawberry-Banana Gu (my energy booster consumed during the race)? Check.
Special running socks that keep my feet from getting blisters? Check.
ipod shuffle and charger? Check?
Running clothes for the last run I have to do on Friday before the race? Check.

And my suitcase was now full. And I hadn't even packed my normal clothes yet.

Between packing and the thought of the cross-country flight that takes off at 6:50 am (just 6 hours away at this point) I am exhausted. And I haven't even gotten to starting line yet!

However, it is worth it. In a few short (ok, kinda long) hours, I'll be sitting in San Diego, visiting with family and preparing to run my very first half-marathon with them cheering me on. How exciting. How important.

So important in fact that I will admit, although I don't have to, I would have even considered checking.

I happen to like my running music, thank you very much

Every guy I ever dated, including the one I married, claimed that I have terrible taste in music.

Whatever.

I love my running playlist. It totally captures my taste. I love every single so-called "terrible" song on it. Where else could a person find a mix of Britney Spears, OutKast, Linkin Park, and Stone Temple Pilots? My ipod shuffle holds nearly three hours of music that keeps me going mile after mile.

I've read that music with 170 to 180 beats per minute is the best for running - you'll get in one step per beat, which should make you run faster. Although I haven't counted the beats per minute in each of the songs on my running play list, I can tell you - they do make me run faster.

I run to the same songs, in the same order, every time. I finish three miles in the middle of Def Leppard's "Lets Get Rocked" (flashbacks to dragging Main Street in high school), "Harder to Breathe" by Maroon 5 comes on just as I start mile five (how appropriate!), and the Tom Petty classic "I Won't Back Down" (total motivation) comes on in the middle of mile eight.

As I have increased my mileage each week, I look forward to hearing what song will be playing as hit my new distance mile marker. Unfortunately, this song, what ever it turns out to be, stays in my head for a few days - at least until my next run.

I can officially report that I have "Hot in Here" by Nelly in my head. Playing over and over. and over.

As I neared 10 miles last week, I was excited to hit that distance and keep going. Every step past 10 miles is a step further than I had ever been in my life. What song would be playing as I took those first steps? Almost as if the playlist planned it, "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce, ended just as my watch reported 10 miles down. What came on next - Nelly... Wow.

Its getting hot in here so take off all your clothes...

As I began my week, sitting in meetings, that song continued to play in my head. Conference call with a client - "Its getting hot in here..." Team meeting - "Its getting hot in here..." (you thought I was going to say - "So take off all your clothes..." No, not a thought I want to have in a Team meeting. ACKKKK!!!)

I am gettin so hot, I wanna take my clothes off ...

Thank goodness I run a half marathon this weekend. 13.1 miles - further than I've ever run before. Which means: new mileage = new song. WoooHooo! I can't wait to hear what that new song will be.

Nelly, Nelly, Nelly, you are great to run to, but the aftermath has not been fun. No, it is not hot at work, and No, I do not want to take my clothes off. Sorry, Nelly, I love you, but you've got to go.

Man's best friend? Mine is still in bed!

As I head out on my long run, weekend after weekend, I am greeted by a familiar sight - fellow runners who are heading out for their run, kept company and cheered on by their furry best friend.

One thing that always strikes me about these running duos is how extremely happy each dog looks to be running alongside his or her owner. At the end of the run - that happiness is still there. As the dog's owner does her best to catch her breath after a 5, 10, or longer mile run, her dog sits there lovingly looking up, begging for more. That's man's best friend for ya.

Then there is Stella. Stella is our English Bulldog. Don't get me wrong, she is a great companion ... when you are doing things like laying on the couch, laying in bed, laying anywhere, Stella is there, right beside you.

I guess you could say our interests differ slightly. I'm set on running 24 miles a week. Stella is set on sleeping 24 hours a day. Its gotten to the point that we have to make Stella wake up to eat her breakfast - she's groaning and moaning (yes, bulldogs do groan and moan) the entire time.

Each weekend as I set out on my run, I think of little Stella, back home in bed. I wish I could bring her out here to run along side of me. I have resigned myself to the fact that that will never happen. Stella is just not an athletic dog.

Although she will never be out there running beside me like other runner's dogs, Stella is still worthy of the title of "Man's Best Friend." After I finish with my run, she is always there patiently waiting for me to get back.

And when I do, she's ready to take a nap.

Everyone needs a personal cheerleader

Do you have a personal cheerleader? If you don't, I highly recommend you find one.

I have a personal cheerleader. Her name is Leesa. The best way I can describe Leesa is: Energizer Bunny on Crack. She's one of those girls that after spending time with her, you ask yourself, "Does this girl ever have a bad day?" You also wonder "How much Mountain Dew did you drink today, Leesa? You seem pretty hyper."

When I made the decision to run this marathon, Leesa was one of the first people I told. Here's why - Not only is Leesa one of my closest friends, she is also an amazing runner. Leesa runs 10 miles on a regular day - and that's not even her long run. Crazy Girl.

So I proceed to tell Leesa that I decided to run a marathon and right then and there Leesa responds with "OK, we'll go and cheer you on." Having Leesa cheer you on its quite a sight. She has been known to do cheerleading jumps, 8 months pregnant, while cheering on her husband, my husband and my sister-in-law, Amy, as they ran the Army 10 miler in 2007. Its true. I was there. What Leesa didn't tell me that night was that her cheerleading stared right then and there.

After I ran my first 3 miles, I immediately texted Leesa - I'd run 3 miles at 12 minutes a mile!Looking back, its kinda funny that I was so excited to tell her about my 3 little 12 minute miles. For her that's nothing. However, you would have thought I told her that I won a million dollars with the reaction I got. There she was cheering me on.

The day I ran my first race, the St. Patrick's Day 8K, Leesa ran it with me. I'd only been training for about two and a half months when I ran that race. The entire time Leesa continued with the encouragement - "Come on you can do it..." "You are doing an awesome job..." "Keep pushing you are almost there..." And you know what? I finished faster than I thought I would. And Leesa let me cross the finish line first.

Since then, from time to time an evil voice starts talking in my head, telling me that I can't possibly go one more step. You know what drives that voice away? Leesa's voice telling me to "Push it, Girl!"

Regardless of what personal goal you've set for yourself, I wholeheartedly recommend finding a personal cheerleader to cheer you on to success. Knowing my friend Leesa, she'd probably be available, if you just let her know.

It's a perfect day

I start each of my runs with the same song: "Perfect Day."

On this perfect day, nothing's standing in my way
On this perfect day when nothing can go wrong

I love this song. I love it because it "perfectly" sums up how I feel when my run is good and it makes me feel better when my run is not.

When I press play on my ipod and this song begins, I I think about the Cherry Blossom 10 miler. This race was run in downtown D.C. amongst the snowy pink and white cherry blossoms. It was a beautiful crisp morning and as I ran around the Tidal Basin and Jefferson Memorial on roads usually reserved for cars and tour buses, I felt like I owned the city. I ran my first 10 miles that day. What a perfect day.

Its the perfect day, tomorrow's gonna come too soon
I could stay, forever as I am on this perfect day

I think of the Mount Vernon Trail, running from George Washington's estate along the Potomac on the day I ran my first 8 miles. Running on a trail along the water, watching the sail boats and the families on bikes pass by. What a perfect day.

And most recently, running on the I-66 Trail, across the river from Washington D.C. under weeping willows and metal bridges with views of the Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, and the Kennedy Center. I ran the farthest I've ever run so far. What a perfect day.

Don't get me wrong. Not all runs are perfect. Oh, let me think - running in Houston in 100 degree weather with 10000% humidity. Running the hills along Kingstowne Village Parkway. Running along Van Dorn Street when I almost was hit by a car (Don't even get me started about the cellphone driver-talker who wasn't paying attention when I clearly had the WALK! No, I'm not bitter about that at all.)

However, all I have to do is listen to that song and it brings back memories of the runs that were perfect.

I'm in a race but I've already won
And getting there can be half the fun

Oddly enough, I had a dream a few nights ago that I was asked to be in a wedding, along with a college friend of mine. Our task - sing "Perfect Day" as the bride walked down the aisle ... while wearing hot pink dresses (it was us in the hot pink number, not the bride). I think my brain might be telling me to knock off the "Perfect Day" song for awhile. Sorry, Brain. That's probably impossible.

So don't stop me till I'm good and done
Don't you try to rain on my perfect day
On this perfect day, this perfect day

To walk or not to walk?

That is the question. At least the question on my mind lately. When I'm out on a run and I take a walk break, am I a loser?

When I began my training, I totally did a run - walk. Heavy on the walk, light on the run. I began with running a minute, walking four minutes, with six repeats. I slowly took myself from mostly walking to mostly running.

The day I went from mostly running to totally running was all due to brother, Patrick. He had just come home from Iraq, where he was stationed for 15 months. The morning after his homecoming, I got up early to run before I caught a flight back to D.C. As I sat in my Mom's living room lacing up my running shoes, Patrick came in and informed me he would join me on my run.

As we ran around my Mom's Austin neighborhood, Patrick gave me his running advice - Never give up. Slow down if you have to, just don't walk. He is such an Army soldier. No matter what happened over there - his philosophy was to never quit. (Which is one of the reasons he earned a Purple Heart while in Iraq, but that's off the topic.) At the end of that run with Patrick, I'd run for 45 minutes without stopping! (Sure I'd probably only done a 13 minute mile but Wooo Hooo! I did my first "long run" ever!!)

Never, Never, Never Walk ...

So I've got my little brother on one shoulder whispering in my ear and Jeff Galloway whispering in the other.

Who is Jeff Galloway you ask? This guy is an expert in running. He has run over 120 marathons and has written countless books on running technique. He's a big proponent of the run-walk method. He argues that a runner that takes a "walk break" every mile or so postpones hitting the "wall" - the dreaded moment when you just can't go any further. Basically, for every mile you run, you walk one minute.

I've tried the Galloway method on a few of my long runs and I have to admit, I do finish faster. But I also have to admit, I feel a little embarrassed. I'm proud of the fact I can run without stopping. Every time I start to walk I want to tell the person passing me, "Hey, I'm not quitting, I'm just doing the Galloway Method." Maybe I need a shirt that announces that fact ...

I guess you could say that the jury's still out. I'm not ready to drink the Galloway Kool-aid yet. And I'm not sure if I am going to use the Galloway Method in my upcoming half marathon. I don't think I can bring myself to walk at mile one. I'll be too embarrassed.

So, to walk or not to walk? I do not know the answer to that question.

Perhaps you take a little of Patrick's advice and a little of Galloway's advice - Never, Never, Never quit - slow down to a walk to keep pushing on to the ultimate goal - which is to finish.

I'll tell you what I do know, I cherish that first long run that I did back in January. After 15 months of road-side bombs and getting shot at in the desert, sleeping in the barracks, and 48 hours on an international flight home, Patrick chose to run with me - to support me and give me advice and encouragement, rather than sleep-in in a comfy bed and eat my mom's pancakes. For that, I will always be grateful.

And I promise you, Paddy, I will Never, Never, Never quit.

She's thrown down the gauntlet and Valerie doesn't even know it

Let me set the scene: I'm at the nail place with my friend Kim getting a much needed pedicure. Let me tell you, running every day has done a number on my feet. I've had to kiss my dreams of being a foot model good bye. Darn.

There I am, trying to do a little damage control while enjoying the massage chair and flipping though several magazines that I could never bring myself to buy. You know the ones, they are every girl's guilty pleasure. They are filled with hard hitting journalism - articles like "Who Wore it Best" and "Celebrity Cellulite." Yes, I feel dumber after having read one of those magazines, but man, they are a fun read.

As I turn the page on an article about how bad Mischa Barton is looking lately (can these magazines be any meaner?), I stumble upon a picture of Valerie Bertinelli. Guess what she is doing? Crossing the finish line at the Napa-to-Sonoma Wine Country Half Marathon. She looks good. After dropping 50 pounds she decided to run a half marathon. Good for her!

Then my eyes drop to the caption below the photo. "Valerie ran the scenic 13.1 mile race in 2:12:19." I quickly do the math - she ran the half at a 10:06 minute mile pace. WHAT? CRAP! Valerie can run faster than me. NO! NOT ACCEPTABLE.

My first half marathon is in two weeks and I was planning on running it in 2:20:00, which translates to a 10:41 minute mile. Shoot.

Now, just last week I wrote that no matter what my time is when I run a race, I consider myself a winner. And I do. I just want to be a faster winner than Valerie Bertinelli.

So, Valerie, I accept your challenge. I will try to beat your time of 2:12:19 when I run the America's Finest City Marathon in San Diego on August 16. You have thrown down the gauntlet. Funny thing is, you don't even know it.