Barefoot Monologues

A Journey of the Sole

Category Archives: natural running


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An Ultra-Marathon and the Paleo Diet

So I’ve been having a lot of strange, crazy, ridiculous thoughts lately.

Ridiculous idea #1 is that I want to run an ultra marathon. I don’t know, maybe a 6 or 12 hour timed race, maybe a 50k…maybe the Pineland Farms 50k on May 27th (happening four days after I get back from standing for 10+ hours at a trade show in NYC – I did say it was ridiculous, didn’t I?). I want to be able to say that I’m an ultra-marathoner. Call it a bucket-list item. And for some crazy reason, a 31 mile ultra seems actually easier than running a 26 mile marathon. Maybe it’s because all the people I know who run marathons talk about how hard the 20+ mile training runs are, and my ultra friends just talk about how much beer they consume afterward. Also, many of my recently-inducted ultra runner friends only had half marathons under their belts before finishing their first ultras. But these guys are in tip-top shape and are really good at making this stuff look easy.

I don’t know though, runs as short as 6-7 miles still make my feet hurt. I’m not sure how it would be possible to succeed at this point in my training level. But, I think, perhaps if I continue training like a champ and lose the excess weight I’ve gained over the last three years, I can manage the miles a little better. And faster.

The Pineland Farms 50k is happening at the end of May, and a few of my friends will be in attendance. It’s very tempting to sign up and pay the $45 today. It would be exciting. After all, that’s how I handled the half marathon: I signed up when I was sure I had absolutely no chance of actually making it, and then I did. Many great opportunities in my life have happened by taking those kinds of big leaps. Also, I work exceptionally well under pressure, and so perhaps having a 50k over my head will help me turn my fitness level around. I don’t know. I’m going to contemplate it over a glass (i.e. bottle) of wine tonight. Actually, who am I kidding? By the time you read this I’ll probably already have signed up for the damn thing.

But, moving on.

Ridiculous idea #2: the 30-Day Paleo Diet Challenge. For those of you who have never heard of it, the Paleo diet is based on the presumption that your body is designed to eat like humans did back in the Paleolithic era (our hunter-gatherer days) – essentially what you can procure naturally from the earth. Unprocessed, whole foods. It is believed that these foods are easiest to digest, and more easily used for energy and good health.

The Paleo diet consists of (from my understanding) red meat, poultry, fish, all fruits and vegetables, nuts and eggs. It does not consist of milk, yogurt, cheese, salt, refined sugars and oils, breads, pastas, rice and any other grains, and anything else that is processed, i.e. stuff that’s not “real food.” Many also exclude beans, legumes and potatoes.

If you think about it, it makes some definite sense. Any nutritional plan out there that has its head on straight pretty much preaches a diet based on these food items, though it usually allows most grains and processed items to which, as a society, I believe we are overly addicted. Even the vegan diet, which I momentarily considered instead, allows for too much processed carbohydrates, things I’ve never attempted to cut out of my diet before. Also, I’ve never been thin. I plan to find out if there is a correlation between those two things, and that’s why Paleo is the way I’m going to go.

However, in order to bring on a realist-factor and make it easier for me to uphold for 30 days, I plan to make the following adjustments/allowances:

  • coffee (I only drink 1 cup a day anyway)
  • potatoes (mostly sweet)
  • wine (occasional, and for adding flavor to cooking)
  • simple dressings (like oil and vinegar, balsamic)
  • beans (fiber)
  • olive oil (I believe in its heart-healthy properties)
  • occasional exceptions (i.e. if eating out) when Paleo options are unavailable

So, from Monday January 23rd through Wednesday, February 22nd I will practice this way of eating. I want to free myself from my addiction to the refined sugars that settle as excess fat around my waist. I want to see if it changes my energy levels, reduces my weight, makes running easier and heck, perhaps even helps my allergies. There are a lot of claims, so it’s possible. If nothing else, it will be healthier for sure. When the month is over, I’ll figure out what to do next.

If I make it out alive, that is. I’m sure going to miss pasta and wheat cereal.


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Fear Conquering: My First Winter Trail Run

I just completed my first ever trail run in the snow! I’m very excited that it didn’t kill me, as once presumed.

Here’s the stats:

  • Number of miles planned: 4.5 to 6
  • Number of miles completed: 5.2
  • Number of 1.5 mile out and backs: 3 and change
  • Average pace: ~13:00 (I was being cautious, don’t judge)
  • Number of people I shared the trail with: 0
  • Number of ominously creaking trees on the side of the trail: 2
  • Number of times my feet slid on the ice beneath the snow: 3
  • Number of times I fell on my ass: 0
  • Number of times I twisted my ankle: 0
  • Number of whole dead branches Oscar unearthed and dragged with him: 6
  • Number of branches Oscar hit me with: 3
  • Number of times Oscar peed on the side of the trail: 5
  • Number of times I peed on the side of the trail: 1
  • Number of natural toilet paper options on snowy New England trails: 0
  • Number of new muscles that introduced themselves today: 3
  • Number of times I wished I was in San Diego: 0

The trail I run is so flat because it used to be a railroad route. See? That's one of the railcars that got stuck here. Just kidding, it's there for show..

This was a lot of fun! Last winter I was sure there would be no way to survive running on the snow, but it is possible with the right shoes. I had to find a place to try out my new VivoBarefoot Neo Trails (full review coming), so for the first time in my adult life, I was glad to see snow.

This is the paved trail I usually run. Today I decided to skip it.

This is the unpaved trail, to the left of the paved one. It just looked more inviting today.

One thing I didn’t realize before about running winter trails is that the snow coats everything and evens out the ground, for the most part. I felt very few rocks and sticks underfoot, and the ground was actually more predictable than regular trails. Either that or I was being so cautious not to slide on the ice that the uneven ground didn’t affect me much. It’s definitely a great workout for my ankles and legs, and it’s pretty much impossible to let your form slip if you don’t want to end up ass-first on the ground.

My feet didn't slip in the Neo Trails. Please ignore the ankle brace on my right foot. Again, being cautious.

I was definitely VERY slow, though. This was the first time I’d run this trail since the day I sprained my ankle on it in October, so it felt a bit like playing with fire. I was barely out of breath for most of the run, but I didn’t care because it was so enjoyable. I didn’t take my music with me, and I wasn’t bored because of it. I learned that the trail was only .75 miles long, exactly, so I could complete 3 out-and-backs for 4.5 miles, or 4 for 6 miles. I wanted to hit 6 because I was feeling great, but as I started the 4th lap I noticed my dog’s tail was low and he was slowing down. I inspected his paws and he had 3 cuts on his front ones from sliding on the ice. Poor guy. So we turned around and went back a little early. I wonder if he would agree that “barefoot is best.”

Oscar taking a nap in the computer room when we got back home. Run: 1 Dog: 0


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The Better Way to Inspire

An approximation of how it feels to run barefoot. But nowadays I just let people figure it out for themselves.

Over the past few years barefoot running has soared in popularity, bringing along with it a slew of “barefoot shoes,” scientific studies and articles, evangelical followers and bloggers worldwide. Since I started riding the barefoot tidal wave myself a couple years ago, I’ve sorta been wondering if and when the backlash would ensue. I mean, whenever you have this much of a swing in thinking, it is inevitably followed by some backslide toward the center again, nice and neat like a pendulum.

I can’t say for sure whether the pendulum has yet reached the other end in the barefoot running world, but I think we are maybe at least starting our descent. Recently I’ve been seeing more and more articles by barefoot enthusiasts (not just nay-sayers and middle-of-the-road-ers) who are now starting to nudge into more inclusive territory when it comes to running footwear. Some ideas like going totally barefoot maybe isn’t always best, that some cushioning isn’t such a no-no in certain situations, even that heel-striking might not be so bad for everyone, are starting to wash up here and there along the shore.

In the very beginning of my barefoot running life, I listened to, read and regurgitated everything that the gurus told me. It was probably best that way back then anyhow, because without enough experience, I may have caused more harm to myself than good. But once I had a handle on the general concepts, I made allowances to some critical thinking of my own. I was able to decide things like running totally barefoot 100% of the time isnt really my style, and that I’m okay with a little cushioning when I’m freshly back from an injury. And most importantly, I’ve decided that I’m okay with it if my friends hear how wonderfully life-changing this has been for me, and then still continue heel striking in their traditional running shoes.

At first I was somewhat of an outsider for this (an outsider to the outsiders! Imagine that!). I started writing unpopular blog posts like “What You Can Learn from a Cushiony Pair of Running Shoes” and “Why Form?” Also I wasn’t always taking my shoes off in the warm spring weather and I shunned the popular Merrells for my very favorite (and most hated by the cool kid majority) Vibram Bikilas. With laces. But now, some of the more popular bloggers are finally saying the same stuff I was thinking all along. Which is good, because that means people will probably begin to follow this shift in thinking, and then I’ll get to feel like I’m on track again. Weird how that works. But I digress.

The real thing I wanted to talk about here is the fascinating irony that people will come to your way of thinking, eventually, once you stop trying to pull them along. It is just a fact of life, but we often forget it. So around this time last year I was sitting at a table across from my boss and a bunch of coworkers at Truffle Café in Atlanta, getting a bit ruffled while trying to explain why I run barefoot. One person who was all too familiar with the argument muttered to herself, “Here we go again” as I began. Thankfully the conversation ended well enough, after the boss’s daughter generously piped up, “hey wait, my best friend wears those toe shoes to run. They’re so cool!” But basically it got to be a battlefield every time someone asked me about my weird shoes. And it was only because I cared. I wanted others to hear about how awesome it was to run in lighter shoes, and I wanted everyone else to share my epiphany.

But sooner or later I became disenchanted with the whole idea of spreading the word. My friends eventually got used to my monkey shoes and stopped asking about them. I endured the occasional barefoot joke, and it was fine because I can laugh at myself. Soon enough the only people even bothering to read my blog were already converted barefooters. Even my husband got bored of the content and just started blindingly re-tweeting my posts to qualify as showing his support (which I still do appreciate). And it didn’t matter much to me, anyway. By then I’d formed a thick skin and a nice group of barefoot running friends, all across the continent, with whom to share my triumphs and failings. I was pretty content with myself and with my non-barefoot running buddies, with their Brooks Ultra-Cushion Pillow Shoes and all. I didn’t care anymore if they decided to run barefoot or not.

But then it started happening.

“So, I’ve decided to start minimalist running…got any advice on what shoes I should buy? I saw that you review some of them on your blog.”

One person asked me at a party. And then another messaged me on Facebook. And then a couple inquired as to whether I would mind taking them minimalist shoe shopping. It was like music to my ears! At last I’ve been given the invitation to impart my mid-foot-struck running knowledge onto a few people, and it is marvelous!

I guess I’m learning that it pays to care a little less about whether I’m being heard – because sometimes people learn better with sight. I’m learning that if I’m to show anyone how freeing it is to run barefoot, I should do it with my life experiences, not with fact-spewing and propaganda. As I said in my latest active.com article, a happy runner is an inspirational one.

And I’m perfectly content to inspire in silence. How about you?


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Barefoot Monologues Blogiversary: 11 Things I Learned in 2011

Hello readers, I hope you’ve kicked the New Year’s Eve hangovers and have started enjoying 2012 (a.k.a. the last year before the Mayans got lazy).

Today is a happy day for me, because it is the 1 year blogiversary of Barefoot Monologues! Sweet baby Jesus, you mean I actually stuck with something for a whole year?! Yes, miracles do happen!

In 2011 I wrote exactly 50 posts to this blog, made a few friends, gained (one or two) readers and learned a few things about life, love and running. Over the past few days, while melting into my couch and enjoying my much needed 12-day vacation, I tried to figure out what this post should be about. At first I decided I would write this motivational essay on my resolutions for the new year…but, I really kind of think resolutions are crap (or…when I make them they are). Well, maybe they’re not total crap. I mean, I have made some promises to myself for the coming training season that include things like not fussing over pace and never eating another doughnut for the rest of my life, but if I boast on and on about them here, then I’ll look like an asshole later on when I break them. I would rather only have myself to disappoint.

So instead, I thought I’d make a list of 11 things that 2011 has taught me, for your viewing pleasure (or your torturous boredom, whichever you prefer):

  1. I should not eat questionably digestible foods such as crab rangoons (8), guacamole (0.5lb) and chocolate (16pc.) on the night before a 6 mile run. The first lesson of the year was learned the hard way on January 1st, during the last mile of a 10K race. Ouch. 
  2. Sobriety is not a requirement for me to run. This lesson came during a business trip in Atlanta, after I had three martinis at dinner and then decided it was time to get at least two miles in at the hotel gym. Good times had by all involved.

  3.  Sometimes my long runs are better when I am tired/sick/hungover. I think maybe because I’m already hurting, my body numbs out any extra pain I put it through. We won’t talk about how I feel after the run, though.

  4. If my foot hurts, it’s probably not a great idea to run fartleks for the next three days in a row. For most people this is fundamental knowledge. I am not most people.

  5. Sometimes, Advil really is the best remedy. Ice is great, rolling pins are fantastic, rest is cool.But I’ve knocked out more soreness and inflammation in 12 hours with Advil than with ice in three days. My liver is probably only functioning at 50% right now…but hey, whatever it takes to run again, right?

  6. Not every ache and pain is an injury, cupcake. But, some of them are. It’s not always easy to tell the difference, but if running 1/4 mile makes you cry, you’re most likely injured.

  7. It’s really dumb to sign up for a race that’s happening next month, as a way of willing an injury to heel. Yeah, it doesn’t work. This lesson cost me more cash than I’d like to admit.

  8. Monitoring my pace on my GPS watch doesn’t make me a faster runner. It just makes me a more frustrated slow runner.

  9. Beer is a form of running fuel. Really. I’ve seen it work wonders, especially the night before the NYC Barefoot Run. Not to mention beer has been present at pretty much every race I’ve ever been to. There’s got to be a correlation somewhere.

  10. Real barefoot runners are a bit weird. We are kind of like geeks who just happen to prefer the outdoors to comic-cons and World of Warcraft. We go on weird diets, run in weird clothing like capes, kilts and tutus, and walk around in public with no shoes on. But we are all really very intelligent and open-minded, which is where the geek part comes in.

Examples of acceptable running gear for a barefoot runner. No Lululemon here, my friends. (interesting that both photos include Pat Sweeney...interesting, but not at all surprising)

  1. Someday, I want to be an ultra-marathon runner. Don’t you just love the word “someday?” It eludes to absolutely no time commitment, but really makes me sound like I’m actually going to accomplish it. Someday.
What did you learn in 2011?


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Review: Feet, by Mother Nature Incorporated

Today I’m reviewing a lovely pair of Feet that were generously sent to me by a very small company called My Two Parents, a division of Mother Nature Company, Inc. I was delighted when they arrived, as they have become an excellent running tool ever since.

Looks
The pair of Feet I received were a women’s size 8, or EU 38. They are light in color, almost pasty, and also a little bit bony with short stubby toes and an exceptionally wide toe box. The soles are smooth and pink, with a high arch. But they look strong overall so I think they can handle most of the terrain I typically run on. The toenails aren’t too pretty, though, looks like they haven’t been through a pedicure in awhile. There’s some chipped polish on most of the toes. But that’s okay, I checked with the company and it turns out it’s only a cosmetic defect that won’t affect overall performance.

Weight
As far as weight goes for minimalist footwear, Feet are the lightest things on the planet. In fact, you can’t even weigh them because of how close they fit with your body, and their difficulty to detach and be weighed separately. But I can guarantee you that no shoe, no sandal and no FiveFinger can match Feet’s sheer invisibility in weight.

Construction and Durability
Feet are made up of 26 tiny bones, 33 mobile joints, layers of tendons and muscles intrinsic to helping you run. They also have several layers of skin that hold everything together flawlessly, without any stitching or lacing to fuss over. Feet are, without a doubt, the most complex and beautiful running tools out there, and yet the most simple. They’ve got stellar cushioning capabilities, in this case called the Arch System. Pronation control? You don’t even need it! Feet can allow you to run beautifully no matter what biomechanics flaw the pimply sales guy at your local running store tells you that you have (they don’t like Feet too much over there). Furthermore, you don’t have a mileage limit on these babies, meaning there’s no need to shell out hundreds every couple of months to keep your running “fresh.” You only ever need one pair. By my count, that’s Mother Nature: 3 Nike: 0.

Unlike all the other footwear brands, the more you put Feet through, the stronger and tougher they get. If you overdo it and mess them up, they’ll get better after a while and let you abuse them again. They’re waterproof, highly washable and dry almost instantly. There are no seams on the inside, so no chafing. You can save some BodyGlide there. And you don’t need to wear socks inside them either, Injinji or otherwise. Very cost-effective.

Performance
I love to take my pair of Feet out for runs on their own during mild weather. The ground feel is exceptional. The best, actually. There is zero loss of prioperception on trails, and they are most definitely your best choice of footwear when it comes to learning or correcting your running form. My only complaint is that the soles don’t come strong enough at first to put up with highly textured ground…for that you’ve got to wear them in a bit before you stop getting ouchies. Kind of like wearing in a good pair of leather flats. Also they’re arguably not all that great during tough New England winters, mine especially – the toes go white when it’s too chilly (but that might just be my pair – every one is different). Some crazy fools and nut bags do go out there in the snow with Feet, though, and to each his own. Shoes as tools, right?

Feet are not great for every situation, but that’s okay because no footwear is. Have no fear, you can still wear your Feet under a great pair of minimalist shoes, like Vibram FiveFingers or VivoBarefoot footwear. As long as the shoes don’t prop up the heel or mess with ground feel too much, Feet can still do their job. They’re pretty amazing that way.

Conclusion
Feet are exceptional, unprecedented footwear, and every runner should own a pair. I take mine with me during every run…heck, I never leave home without them. They are your best running tool, right after, of course, supportive underwear and sports bras.

 


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People Who Hate Distance Runners are Jealous

Today I read a rather thought-provoking article by someone I don’t think I’d like very much in person. It was called “Running a Marathon Does Not Make You Mother Theresa“. Written by another WordPress user, this post was delivered to my attention by none other than the “Freshly Pressed” section (as in, picked out, shined up and presented as “The Best Of”) on WordPress’s front page. Previously deciding, after having read that the usual requirements for an author to get “Freshly Pressed” include content that is free of things such as typos, poached images, bad words and hate-speech, that my occasional F-bomb must have to be the only reason I’ve never been selected, I would never imagine an inflammatory piece of work could earn such recognition. And yet, here I find this post, full of bad words (ass-hat) and, well…technically, hate speech (marathoners are asshats).

My newfound distrust in the integrity of WordPress editors aside, this article did two things to me today:

  1. It offended me deeply – and even though I possess a lively contentiousness, rarely am I ever genuinely offended.
  2. It made me wonder if all my non-runner friends feel about me the way the author of this post feels about, according to her, 83% of her Facebook friends.

I don’t feel the need to talk more about why the article offended me. If you read it for yourself, that part will be obvious.

What I do want to talk about is the latter point. How do my non-runner friends feel about my blog, which is about running of course, and not usually much of anything else? There is the occasional rant or chatter about some other subject matter, but most of those posts happened before I realized this was a running blog. It decided that for itself, of course. But my blog aside, what about my DailyMiles that get reposted on Facebook? The articles that active.com publishes for me every week or two? The reviews I write about stuff that I got for free? What does everyone think of seeing my status updates about running shoes, of seeing me walk around in Vibrams or turning down Friday night plans because of an early morning long run? What do my friends think about the 13.1 sticker plastered proudly on the rear bumper of my gray Honda Civic? Do they want to rip it off and burn it?

Do my friends think I’m an asshat?

Do they roll their eyes every time I bring up the subject of running? Do they secretly smile and talk amongst themselves when they hear I’ve been injured? Do they think that I’m a braggart or an attention-whore? Or worse, that I’m too fat/short/old to run and should just give up the ghost already?

After I finished reading the article that this self-professed “almost-a-doctor” wrote (an article that could theoretically result in more sick people by disparaging the activity of running, as well as those who indulge in it), I realized that I really don’t actually give a shit what non-runners think of me running. I don’t do it for them.

I love to run. I don’t run for vanity and mask my hatred for it with claims of Mother-Theresa-like spiritual fortitude. I actually really, really like it. Call it my hobby. It’s my favorite activity besides sleeping, drinking beer and eating (and in some cases I have given more love to running than I have to those other things). I love running, but I don’t love….say, professional football. Nope, I don’t watch football games, and don’t give a shit who wins. New England Patriots, who are they? Actually, I do know who they are, of course, but stay with me here. I have about 25 Facebook friends who light up my homepage every week of the year with play-by-play updates from every game, in every sport they watch. They love sports, I don’t give a shit. But, despite the bouts of razzing I occasionally dole out to them for fun, I don’t think they’re asshats because of it. Same thing for people who are into cars, veganism, their toddlers, obscure films and the Rocky Horror Picture Show…for the most part I don’t care one iota about those things, but I don’t have a problem with them because they want to talk about it.

And I don’t post running stuff for the eyes of my non-running friends, anyway, just like nobody is posting the halftime score for my benefit. I just checked, and I currently have 232 friends on Facebook. More than a third of those friends are barefoot and minimalist runners. And if you take away all the friends I have who never communicate with me on the site, the ratio of runners to non-runners probably doubles. Then add back all the people who seem to genuinely care about my comings and goings no matter what the subject (a function of friendship that the above-mentioned writer-cum-doctor most likely knows nothing about). So, if perhaps three quarters of the people I connect with on a daily basis are runners or people who in some way do give a shit about my running life, then what do I have to be self-conscious about? Certainly not the person who writes articles chastising people who work hard at something they love and who think they deserve to be proud of themselves for it.

So this is a note to anyone who thinks my running life is boring, ludicrous, unhealthy, misguided, attention-seeking or otherwise negatively self-serving (including the Spinster herself): Get out now. Stop waiting for a blog post from me that’s not about running, stop rolling your eyes (enviously?) at my DailyMile posts. Unfollow me. Hell, why not just delete me? Because I’m not going to stop running or stop talking about running just because you’re not interested.

And for those of you have been somehow inspired by my passion for running, well you are part of the reason I share. Running, especially distance running, is an exceptionally challenging and rewarding activity that way beats watching 30 men run into each other to stop 11.25 inches of pigskin. I hope that more of you will try it. And as always, thanks for reading.


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My Fab Five-Miler and The Real Life Running Coach

At around this time last year I began “officially” working through the weeks of training for my first [minimalist] half marathon. Now that I have gotten over all the “you’re-an-idiot” injuries that kept me from running any other long races in 2011, I find it interesting how different my mindset is this time around.

First, I don’t have a spacial problem about distance anymore. When I was doing long runs, 10 miles seemed reeeeeaaaaaallllly far. And even if I had no real problem getting through 10 miles, the distance still seemed ridiculous. But now, even though my longest run since coming back from injury has only been 5 miles, those same 10 miles don’t seem as long anymore. It could be because over the last year I have made friends with people who run 10 miles for breakfast and another 20 for lunch, but more than that I think it’s due to a complete change in my attitude.

Since the last race that kicked my ass back in June, I’ve changed my GPS watch so that it only tells me how far I’ve gone. No time, no pace, no average pace. Just distance. And if I’m about to run a well-known route, I won’t even take the watch with me. Like Coach Rick says, “Nevermind what the watch says, just run. You’re only going to run as fast as your body can go anyway, and that’s it.” More on Coach Rick later.

These days, I’m a really slow runner. As slow as I was when I first started barefoot running. Well…maybe not quite that slow, but close. But I consider that lack of speed, as embarrassing as it is when I’m running with others, a needed lesson for me to enjoy the journey. I’ve realized I’ve just been dulling my experience by obsessing over how fast I can complete a 5K. And I’m so glad I’ve gotten to this point, it’s huge for me.

I’ve also taken some time to reflect upon my attitude during difficult training runs and races over the last year. It’s an enormous understatement to call myself a complainer. Truth is, I bitch and moan way too much when I’m faced with big challenges. I’ve always told myself that it’s my coping mechanism, but I can sense that I put my running partners off sometimes (sorry, Killeen!), and in all reality it never helped me get through anything. It just kept me from enjoying myself. I realized it when I watched my dear friends cross the finish lines of races with great big smiles on their faces, and mine was scrunched in a scowl. After I finished the half marathon I teared up and wailed out to poor sweet Killeen: “That was really hard!” Not, “that was exciting/fun/exhilarating!” And the race was all those things, but unfortunately for me, I was only focused on the negative parts. Bad attitude to have after completing such a great goal.

This year's training "outline". I guess that means I'm on week 2. Ish.

It’s time to change that, I think. I must focus on my love for running, not just the difficult parts of it. It’s time to think about how great I feel (even if I’m tired), how awesome my last long run was (even if I had to walk part of it), and how I flew through that quarter mile (even if the rest of the run was really slow).

And nothing will make you rethink your attitude like a Boston Marathon running coach, such as one Rick Muhr.

I was invited to attend a Saturday training run given by Coach Rick, with a fellow (very inspiring) blogger and Boston Marathon runner, Sherée. This was the first time I’d ever met Sherée in person, and also the first time that I’d ever shared a training run with 40+ people and a Real Life Running Coach. I didn’t know what to expect, but I found myself sitting in a large room on the basement floor of the First Baptist Church in Newton, tights-clad butts in chairs lining the walls, every pair of eyes following the man with the inspired voice in the center. Coach Rick is just one of those people: you know the type, the guy who makes you feel like you could save the world with a paperclip. The kind of person who holds your gaze and appears truly enthusiastic about making your acquaintance, who instantly makes you feel important to him, even if you only just shook hands. He possesses the powerful companionability that got Barrack Obama voted into the White House, and the unshakable integrity of your greatest personal hero. The man talked for an entire hour in that church basement, and I was hooked the whole time. He mentioned the training and the fundraising that most of the runners had to do, but he talked about a lot of other stuff too. Motivating stuff. Sad stuff. Awe-inducing stuff. Stuff that you think about later on when you’re by yourself in the shower or having a bad day. All I could think the whole time was, man…if I had Coach Rick last winter, I bet that Incident of the Colossal Hill never would have happened, nor would I have had such a shitty outlook upon finishing my first half marathon. Hell…if I had Coach Rick last year, I might have run an entire marathon instead of just half of one. There was such a sense of community there, that I felt like I could conquer any distance I wanted, as long as I had this team of runners and coach with me.

After the lecture, everyone put on their hats and gloves and filed out the door into the 9am sunshine. An ill-timed bathroom break got us started a couple minutes later than the rest of the group, and I immediately fell behind Sherée while she tried to catch up. I knew my legs would have to last 5 miles so I put on some Florence + The Machine and chugged along happily at my own pace, absorbing Coach Rick’s words of wisdom like the sweet warmth of a summer day. I didn’t let it bother me when just about everyone in the group flew by in the opposite direction, already headed back to the church. Well okay…maybe it bothered me a little, but give me a break I’m still working on it.

The best part of the whole run is that when I stopped to get a drink of water (they had water stops!), and when I joined Sherée and the others at the end, I had nothing but positive things to say. “What a beautiful day to run!” “First five-miler in months!” “I feel like I could run six!” “Those hills were awesome!” What a difference a good pep-talk makes.

As I continue through the rest of my training, I plan hold on to Coach Rick’s words for as long as possible, and perhaps duck into the group again in a few weeks to top off the tank with some more motivation. I still love running alone because I just enjoy the meditative state of focus that it allows me, but there’s really something to be said for that community effort. After Saturday, I no longer wonder how my friend Sherée and some of these other Boston Marathoners made it through their 22 mile runs last year.