Last week, I posetd about making running FUN again. With the encouragement of my awesome friend Pete, I left my training brain at home and went out to enjoy myself. It was a rejuvenating week, and just what I needed.
I met up with my friends Kate, Rob and Julie two Wednesdays in a row for 5 mile runs with Fit2Run and Running for Brews. I LOVE this running group. First of all, there is beer at the end. Second, I get to spend time with my friends (Kate and Julie). Third, I make new friends (Rob). And did I mention there is beer at the end? If you haven't guessed, I like beer. I haven't been permitting myself to drink beer, save for after a race or a very rare occassion, because it is supposedly counterproductive to training. I decided that a glass of beer once a week is not going to derail my performance, and that I need to engage in social activities other than training.
Last Saturday morning I met up with other friends (Sherrie, JC, Jen, Chris, Melissa, Sue, Pete, Nick, Brad, Beth...) at Coachman Park in Clearwater, Florida, to cycle 100km (62.5 miles) with Miles for Hope. I stayed true to my word, and rode without my watch.
I participated in this ride for two reasons - 1) Pete asked me to, and 2) I needed to know that I could complete 56 miles on my bike. I rode the entire way with my new friend Chris, who is part of our Team In Training Group heading to Miami Man in November. We had a great time chatting and enjoying the challenging course, and it was MUCH appreciated when Pete would ride up behind us and shout "Great job! Now get up that bridge!" The weather was perfect, the company was entertaining, and the cause was heartwarming. Take 10 minutes and read all about it here.
Some days, when I am running or biking, I really want to stop. Mostly when I am running. For most of us, there are only so many miles that constitue a "comfortable" run. Notice I did not say "easy." To me, there really is no such thing as an easy run. They're all tough, lol. I very rarely allow myself to stop. I may slow down, and I may walk, but I have never quit. It's just not an option. When I feel the fatigue begining to set in, I tell myself "my feet are quick. my legs are strong. i can do this all day long." And then I count steps, or telephone poles, or white cars. Anything to take my mind off of my tired legs. I turn my ipod on, skip from Tom Petty to Ke$ha, Britney, Eminem, Peter Gabriel. I think about the days when I was going through chemo, when I had no energy to even walk to the end of the street.
And then I think of this guy, and about how hard more than several of my friends worked to drop 50, 90, 150 pounds, and how hard they continue to work to live a healthy life. I think about the courage it took to take that first step, full of self-doubt and fear of failure, the strength to continue on when no one thought that they could achieve their goals. I am beyond proud of each of them, and I am excited to be a small part of their journey as they exceed their old dreams and follow their new ones.
All week, I watched as my friends updated their status for tomorrow's 70.3 in Augusta, and I will admit, I had MAJOR race envy. I was kicking myself for not signing up, for not, at the very least, making the drive to cheer them all on as they swim, bike and run through Augusta.
This morning I ran with the Pete and A-Train Tri Club. When I pulled into the parking lot and saw several others waiting, I felt the envy lift a little (I'd still love to be up there cheering!), and I was ready to run. I did turn my watch on today, although I switched it to show my heart rate instead of my time. The majority of this group is way faster than I am, but I was determined to try to keep up for the first part of the run. I hung on until mile 3.5, but their pace was a little too quick so I fell back a little. I was able to keep them semi-close until mile 7.5, and then I knew that there was no way I could keep up for the remaining 6miles. Oddly enough, I was okay with that, and contined to put one foot in front of the other.
Lucky for me, Miranda slowed down and ran with me. I was so grateful to have a running buddy, someone to run with for the last part of the run. I learned a lot of new things today! She was very helpful, offering tips and suggestions on how to fuel and keep cool for 70.3 in Miami. At mile 13, I was exhausted, and was at a counting cadence. Miranda said that she was going to be a mile short, and would I want to run an extra loop through the park? She had been a Godsend today, and there was absolutely no way I was saying no. And oddly enough, I felt better after that next mile! It was just what I needed.
Tomorrow I will rise early, well before dawn, to get ready for a bike ride with many of the same people I've been training with these past couple of weeks. You know, the ones not in Augusta. As I ride, I will think of all of the people racing, sending them positive energy with all my might. Each of these individuals have worked extremely hard to get to the starting line, taking time out of their own training to help guide me in mine. It is my hope and prayer that their kindness and patience is returned to them tenfold out on the race course tomorrow. Without Gene, Sherrie, JC, Jen, Whitney, Brad and Beth, I would not be the triathlete I am today, the triathlete I have yet to become.
And so I run.
Over the past week, I read several blogs and posts reeling with self-doubt, including one from myself. I didn't think much of it; most of us are at the end of triathlon season, burned out from months of training and the worry that we have under trained and will fail ourselves.
We all have our struggles, the days we cannot seem to find the strength to see a single positive thing out of the entire day. We're not perfect, and not all days will be good days, but there is good in every day. We just have to take a deep breath and reassess. Yes, I am taking my own advice, practicing what I am preaching. Lesson learned.
I had another moment of clarity last night as I was on the sideline watching my high school girls scrimmage at open gym. It motivated me to take to the keyboard for the third time this week, and heightened my sense of responsibility to be a better person, to be the kind of person I want my children to be.
You are probably wondering what I saw that has me all worked up.
We are in a true rebuilding year; we graduated our entire varsity team, save for 4 players, one of whom is out for the season with a shoulder injury. We know we have a lot of work to do in the gym, and we gladly accept the challenge. We can teach anybody to play basketball, if they are willing to learn.
As I was watching, silently noting what skills we need to work on most once practice begins, I heard someone say "sorry," and watched as her smile disappeared, her shoulders slumped and her eyes looked down at the floor. It piqued my interest, and I began paying more attention to the girls themselves and less to their basketball abilities. I watched them pass, run, shoot, dribble, rebound - and I watched as they apologized when they made mistakes, as they shrunk in stature from each error, and as the light left their eyes.
The skill we need most is confidence.
I promised myself, right then and there, that by the end of the season that these girls - every last one of them - will possess self-confidence. I will find a way to teach them to believe in themselves, to find their voices and to let their light shine. I took the first step by encouraging them to make mistakes, to learn as they go, laughing as I told them that it's not failing if they learn one thing from it. I will tell them over and over, and then I will tell them again. I will make sure that they know it is okay to mess up, not only on the basketball court, but in life. I told them that "the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."
One of my favorite women of history, Eleanor Roosevelt,
said that, and I quote her often. She was strong, smart, tall and a Libra - just like ME! Yes, I am announcing that I am all of these things, and more. I have a strong sense of who I am, thanks to my parents. They taught me, from a very young age, to be independent, proud of who I am and to always believe in myself. It couldn't have been easy - I am stubborn as well (who knew?), but I love them so much for everything that they did - and also for what they didn't. They encouraged me - to work hard, to practice, to study - and they never made excuses or tried to fight my battles for me.
I was always tall, and I've always had big feet. I'd cry and cry about this, and my dad would tell me that I was being ridiculous, that I needed to have big feet because I'd look silly with little feet. It usually got the crying to slow to sniffles, and I'd pick up a book or a basketball and pull myself out of my self-misery.
When I was 13 and had glasses and braces, in addition to towering over the "popular girls," he told me I was beautiful. My mom, too. They'd say that when I'd come home from practice, all sweaty and exhausted, or when I rolled out of bed and down the stairs on Sunday mornings. I'd wave them off and tell him they were ridiculous, that they had to say that because they're my parents. I'd give anything to hear my dad say that again. I am all teary eyed thinking about it. Moving on, before I turn into a blubbery mess.
My point is that I've always had people in my life that believe in me when I am not strong enough to believe in myself. Coaches and teachers have taken time to explain drills and algebraic equations that I couldn't seem to grasp. They took the time to make me stronger and smarter.
I didn't comprehend just how important that was until I began coaching, until it was my turn to teach, encourage and believe in others. Teenage girls (and boys) are by nature insecure - those years stick with us forever, no matter how much we think that they don't.
Most of us outgrow our insecurities over time, as we grow into ourselves, but every once in awhile, we are revisited by our younger insecure selves, at moments when we least expect them to appear. Think about it - when you go shopping for new glasses, new jeans, new shoes, or a new swimsuit . . . and nothing seems to fit the way you'd like . . . what is your first thought? Mine is usually "why do they only make clothes for skinny people" or "why are my feet so big." See what I mean?
I know that I cannot possibly erase all of the insecurities my girls have; that's not my goal. My responsibility is to teach them that it's okay to have faults and to make mistakes, and to be confidant in their abilities while doing so. Miss a shot? 10? 15? So what. Hustle back and play defense. I want to ignite a fire and confidence within each of them, one that will stay with them and overtake the insecurities. My goal is to feed the fire, to nurture it, to watch it shine, day by day, until it sticks and they become strong, independent, confident young adults.
And so I coach...
Last weekend, I had a bad run. Everyone heard about it, whether they wanted to or not (which, now that I think about it, is probably not all that different from every other reiteration of my training program), and I was a "Negative Nancy" for days. I was a complete black cloud.
Remember how I always write that I have been blessed with great friends and awesome people in my life? This week, they really shined, and they helped me to recover from my misery. It didn't happen immediately, as I tend to hold on to things and forget to let go, but I finally accepted their help.
I promised that I would forget about training and just run to run, at least once this week. I knew that the best way to do this was to run with a friend, so I was ecstatic when I received a text from my friend Kate notifying me that she was running with a group at Fit2Run in downtown St. Pete. PERFECT!
The challenge this week from Pete at A-Train Consulting was on! I left my watch, ipod and fuel belt at home. I left work and headed downtown, actually arriving at the store earlier than I have been at anything in quite some time. Since I had time to spare, I perused the brightly colored women's section and selected a blue patterned headband to purchase and wear on the run. Yay, retail therapy! Kate introduced me to some of the people she knew, and I chatted to a girl who is racing for 70.3 San Juan this coming March while I stretched.
The clock turned to 6:30pm, and off we went! Kate and I had a great talk while we ran the 2 miles that took us around the Pier and up to Crowleys, where we joined the Running For Brews crew. We signed in, listened for instructions, and off we went again. The route took us down by the water, where we saw a large pod of dolphins putting on a show. Have I mentioned that I love living in Florida? It was about this time when I realized that perhaps leaving my fuel belt behind was not all that great of an idea, but I knew that there was a water fountain at the turn around point, so it wasn't so terrible! We got a drink and turned around to head back to Crowleys, cheering on the others in our group along the way.
There were two 10 gallon coolers filled with the most delicious water I have ever had - I kid you not. It was that good. Kate had introduced me to Rob, and when he arrived back at the bar Kate treated us to nice cold beers. I selected a draft of Crazy Mountain Amber Ale, which was fantastic! The group has raffles and what not at each run, so while we waited for the winners to be announced, we got to chatting.
Turns out that Rob has lost 150+ pounds! An entire person. Kate has also dropped an enormous amount of weight (and a person) as well - she is just 4 pounds shy of her goal weight. She is so inspiring that she won an Athleta award at the Iron Girl Half Marathon. I told you I hang out with awesome people!
I left the group in great spirits. I have no idea how long it took me to run those 5 miles, and while I have a good idea, I choose not to care. It was one of the best runs EVER. The weather was nice, the company was great, and I didn't have any remnants of my black cloud.
As I was driving home, still patting myself on the back for getting out there and running "naked," as runners call runs sans-technology, I put a Sister Hazel cd in the player. They are one of my favorite bands, and I always feel energized and ready to take on anything. One of my favorite songs is "Change your mind." If you have 4 minutes, you can watch an acoustic performance here - I love this song!
I am proud to say that my reset button has been pushed. I felt so good after last night that I decided that I wouldn't "train" for another week. I will simply just "play." I will swim, bike and run as though I am 10 years old, actively enjoying my summer vacation, squeezing every ounce of freedom out of the days.
I am looking forward to this weekend, to see my friends and bike and run and swim and smile.
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to all of you - Pete, Kate, Lisa K, Jen, JC, Rob - for helping me to find the joy in running, for giving me 'permission' to give myself a break. A special THANK YOU to Chad, who has to live with my crabby self <3
And so I run (naked)...
Nine months into my first triathlon season, and I've finally fallen victim to a "bad run." A run so terrible that I allowed it to consume my usual upbeat, positive demeanor. If you are a runner, know a runner or simply work with people who are runners, you know that this is completely relative. My bad run was triggered by several different circumstances - all of which were in my control, which makes it worse.
The middle of the month at work is traditionally very stressful, what with deadlines, meetings and my boss usually in town. I have difficulties getting my workouts in, again, due to my own control. I don't like to get up at 4:15am during the week, and I have had no willpower to do so as of late. To sum it up, I did ZERO workouts on my training schedule last week.
Add to it the fact that I was ill prepared for Saturday morning - I forgot to get a 2nd cooler at Publix and didn't put gas in my car on my way home from work - and that I am directionally challenged . . . even at 5am on a Saturday, one hour before a run is not nearly enough time to run errands, drop water stops, park and stretch. I know this, and yet I still believed that I had plenty of time.
So instead of running with the group, I had a long run with myself. Thank goodness I had my ipod, because I needed something to distract me. I am sure that I was entertaining to watch, trucking up the bridges singing out loud . . .
"what it do baby
it's tha ice man Paul Wall
I got my mouth lookin something like a disco ball..."
I didn't care. Not one bit. And yes, I do know all of the words to "Grillz." I was so unbelievably miserable by mile 7 that my entire focus had shifted to how awful a runner I was becoming. Did I mention that I ran 12 miles on Saturday? That was a long way to be miserable; a person does a lot of thinking over the course of 5 miles.
When I finished, I looked at my watch and groaned. I drank my chocolate milk and ate my banana - not because I was hungry, but because I knew I needed the nutrition. My hip was aching, my calves were burning, and I was dripping with sweat. I was supposed to swim, but because my run took longer than expected, I couldn't see the group in the water and I didn't want to swim alone. So I got in my car and went to retrieve my water stops, wallowing in self-misery.
Pete called to check on me, for which I was very thankful. It's nice to have people pick you up on the occasions when it's tough to pick yourself up!
My assignment this week?
To have FUN on at least ONE run. I promised Pete, and I promised myself that I would do this, and I am determined to make it happen. I know that this will be difficult to achieve on my own, so I have decided that I will join the Fit Niche running group in downtown St. Pete Wednesday evening. Running close to the water is not only relaxing, but also beautiful, and it is a favorite route of mine. Why not meet new people while I am at it, maybe stick around and have a drink with them? Take my mind off of trying to beat my mile times, and simply enjoy the company of others with similar interests.
After all, a bad run is just that - a bad run. I've got to let it go and keep on keepin on.
And so I run.
Ahh, the King of Pop. He may have been a strange individual, but there is no denying that the man made good music.
"The Man in the Mirror" is one of my favorite songs. Every time I hear it, I feel motivated to do better, to live the kind of life that I am proud to pass on to others. The song motivates me to volunteer more often, to donate things I do not need to others who may be going through a difficult time, to write letters to old friends and to call my brother, sister and grandparents more frequently.
It also motivates me to train harder, to be the athlete I know that I can be.
This past Saturday, I participated in my third sprint triathlon of the year (and also my third sprint triathlon ever - I am THAT new to the sport) - the Tarpon Springs Rotary Sprint Triathlon. My intent for this tri was to use it as practice - practice the swim and the transitions, mostly, because I thought that I was too slow in these two areas at the Top Gun tri in July.
I was nervous because 1) I still do not feel comfortable in the water, and 2) I still do not feel comfortable in the water. I arrived EARLY - so much so that I was able to park in the second row, did not have to wait to get my chip or to be body marked, and was the first to rack my bike on my designated rack.
After I was 100% positive that I had all of my gear, I used the restroom, double checked that I had my car keys, and headed back to the transition area to find Sherrie. On my way to her, I ran into Adam, Jamie and Tom - I felt much better knowing that I knew people racing!
I was in the last wave, so I cheered my friends on as they took off into the water. When it was my turn, I took my place on the outer edge and tried to calm myself down. I stuck to my plan - "just keep swimming," and after a couple of minutes I found a rhythm and when I looked up to sight the next buoy, I saw that I was actually passing people - in my own age group! Instead of getting excited, I focused on holding my form. I made the turn, and crossed the mat at 6:50 - not too bad! I ran to my bike, put my gear on and headed out to the bike course.
Once I got clipped in, I took off, careful not to run into anyone. I called out "ON YOUR LEFT" loudly and often, and focused on the road ahead of me. I calculated that I was probably averaging somewhere in the neighborhood of 19-20mph for most of the bike. I was ecstatic that I was having a good race so far. I was about 2 miles out from the transition area when a storm hit. We are talking a torrential downpour and high wind gusts. I had to slow down considerably, and while I was disappointed, I was also mindful that I did not want to crash and get injured. I finished the bike, unclipped and ran to my rack. It was raining so hard that I no longer needed my sunglasses, so I threw them into my helmet, emptied my shoes of water and headed out.
My legs felt tired, but nowhere near tired enough to slow me down much. I made sure to watch where I was going, and yelled out words of encouragement to others along the way. I fell in with a gentleman a few age groups above me, and managed to hold on and sprint through the finish. My run pace was 9:12/mile. WHAT?
I knew I had a good race, but I didn't know that I had cut so much time off of my last tri - 12 whole minutes, to be exact. When you look at my very first sprint tri time of 1:44 and some seconds, this is terrific progress. It hasn't come easy. I've been working hard to learn the sport, to learn to push myself just a little harder each day. I have quite a ways to go, but this race boosted my confidence tremendously.
I began this week excited to train, excited to forge ahead and blaze a path towards 140.6. I know that I will need an enormous amount of support to hear the words "Megan Supernovich, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN." I know that I will face adversity, extreme fatigue and some disheartening race performances.
More importantly, I KNOW that I can do it, and that ultimately, this journey begins with ME.
I'm Starting With The Man In
The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change
His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, And
Then Make A Change
Na Na Na, Na Na Na, Na Na,
Na Nah
And so I run.
My life is quite unlike anything I had imagined for myself. Had you asked me what I wanted for myself when I was younger, my answer would have been small town simple. I wanted to be a teacher, a wife and a mom - that was pretty much it, because that is how my young self saw the women in my life. Strong, happy and loved. I wanted to be like them, to be the heart of my family.
I still want that, but I have learned that my story is following a different path. Still small town simple, only over the river and through the woods, forging a new path on my own terms and in my own time.
I had the fortune to grow up in a small town, in a family full of love and support, big on faith and education, largely sheltered from the unpleasant realities of the world - think "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," only that we are Czech and I am not getting married, lol. I lived a Mayberry life until I was 18 years old. I played sports, went to brownies, church and youth group, showed school spirit at the pep rallies and football games, giggled with my friends over which boys we were crushing on, fought with my brother and sister, studied, got good grades, learned to drive, went to prom, and got accepted into college.
It was college that changed me - or perhaps, awarded me the freedom to be myself. I learned that I loved football, the Dave Matthews Band and beer. Man, do I love beer! I learned that I love having friends who are all different, with the greatest common factor being that the company I keep are all good hearted people. I learned that I do not like being told what to do, but that sometimes I need to be told exactly what to do. I learned that it is okay to need people and to ask for help. I learned to push myself harder and farther than I ever thought possible. I learned that I had cancer - Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, to be exact.
I have to say that the cancer was the biggest lesson. I found compassion, patience, and an iron will to survive. Cancer changed me, and for the better. It opened my eyes to a whole new world of possibilities; life is short, why not do what I want?
My early twenties were rocky. My parents separated, my dad passed away unexpectedly from a massive heart attack. This could've been really bad - I could've chosen a completely different path. But God had a plan. He had blessed me, from the very beginning of my life, with friends and family that I could count on to see me through the darkness of the forest. He brought an Ironman into my life. A guy I thought was completely insane, but that I admired very much and secretly wanted to be like. A guy that convinced me that I could run a marathon, and who I now realize planted the seed deep inside of my brain that perhaps, one day, I too would swim, bike and run.
It didn't happen overnight. For five or six years, all I wanted to do was coach basketball. I loved being on the court and around the game. Basketball is in every fiber of my being. I only needed to run to stay in shape so that I could play, right? Running a marathon is just CRAZY. But I wanted to do it, and I did. And I was hooked. Not right away, but over the course of a year, when I realized that I had run 26.2 miles. I wanted to do it again, because I just knew that if I trained hard enough, I could do better. Funny thing was, that I did train for the next one, and it was 20 minutes slower than my first one! So of course I was mad and wanted redemption. I signed up for another race, and hit a new PR. But still, I believed I could do better. So I signed up again, trained again . . . and ran slower than my PR but faster than my worst marathon.
After marathon #4, I was ready to sign up for my 5th - because i just KNEW that one would rock! In between registering, I watched a friend of mine compete at St. Anthony's triathlon here in St. Pete, FL. That was the beginning of the end. I wanted to do that. I wanted to be a triathlete.
And I am. I have successfully completed (2) sprint and (1) Olympic tri so far this year, with another of each on my race calendar. I also have a half-iron distance triathlon scheduled, which I am currently training for vigorously. When I agreed to do the half iron, I laughed. I think perhaps it was because I knew that the monster was out of control, that I have finally discovered not the life I want to live, but the LIFESTYLE. I finally discovered what I want.
I want to be healthy and strong, and live a life full of challenges. I want to be a role model for others, for my family, friends, co-workers, the girls I coach, my future children. I want to live my favorite quote, the quote I wear on a necklace - "Be the change you wish to see in the world. - Ghandi." I want to be an IRONMAN. Hang on to your seats, friends. The path just got wet, gritty and uneven.
And so I run.
