Skip to content

Jul 28

Search term Sunday: Waiting in line at portable toilets

toilets

A confession: I’m really bad at consistency lately when it comes to things I’m trying to make “regular” features. I have so much to blog about but haven’t had time. I’ve been working pretty steadily on some websites over the past few weeks. I started yoga (a blog post in itself, when I get to it). I meet with my students this Tuesday for a fall planning session. My grandmother had a 90th birthday celebration yesterday. I’ve just been a little bit overwhelmed.

And I’m running a half marathon next weekend.

But I thought this search term was definitely a funny one. Someone entered “portable toilets line waiting” and found my blog.

I know why, obviously. It’s because I’ve stood in my fair share of portable toilet lines over the past few years of racing.

I’ve also come to develop some “pro tips” for making the best of a bad situation.

ARRIVE EARLY, GO EARLY

This is especially a rule of thumb at big races. The Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego race is massive. And despite an ever-reaching line of portable toilets (see above), it seems like there are never enough to go around.

This year, the marathon started first. Even when my half marathon corral was ready to go, there were STILL marathoners waiting. I’m not sure what happened to them because, supposedly, the marathon course was going to be shut down fairly quickly after the first mile.

So I practice a simple rule: If you arrive early to a race, make sure the FIRST thing you do is go to the portable toilet. That way, even if you have to go again, you’ve at least gone once already. It takes away some of the line pressure.

GET IN LINE 20 MINUTES EARLY

Never wait until the last minute to make your way to the line. It will take you at least 20 minutes, in most cases, to make your way to the front of the line. This is especially true at bigger races. Smaller races don’t have a lot of issues when it comes to portable toilets, unless there are only a couple available.

Be willing to start your wait early.

FIND ALTERNATIVE MEANS

This means what I think it means, but it also includes some strategic planning.

First off: If a race director tells you that you can “relieve yourself” in the bushes, do it. I’ve been at two races where men and women were told that they could use the brush to avoid the wait. I’m not kidding. And we weren’t in the wilderness. The first time it happened, we were in a major metropolitan park.

“Runners, please use the bushes if you need to!” a man on a bullhorn said. It doesn’t get more official than that.

That said, smart planning also can make your wait less.

At See Jane Run in Alameda, the start line is less than a half mile from the finish. And you know what all finish lines have? Bathrooms. So if you’re willing to walk a little, the likelihood is that you WON’T have to wait.

At the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Jose Half Marathon last year, my husband dropped me off near the finish there too. There were wall to wall portable toilets available. No waiting. The walk to the start was literally three minutes.

At this year’s San Francisco Marathon, a row of portable toilets was RIGHT AFTER the start line. Why? We’re in the corral for so long many people need to use the toilet right when they begin. I got there right after a corral was released and made my way into virtually empty and clean portable toilets.

I also have “rest stops” along the way to make sure I never show up to a race really having to go to the bathroom immediately.

That said, these plans didn’t actually help me the first year I ran each of these events. I remember waiting in those epically bad bathroom lines. That’s why finding out about each of these things really made the experiences the second time more enjoyable.

DON’T WAIT FOR THE REAL BATHROOM

Very few big races offer real, flushing toilets. At the San Francisco Marathon, most “real” bathrooms are locked until after the runners move through the area (except for the ones by Stow Lake, those were open and people were using them).

I know some people have paranoia about portable toilets, but sometimes it’s best to hunker down and get over it. You’ll likely end up waiting twice as long for a toilet that flushes (maybe even three times as long) than a portable toilet.

PLAN FOR THE WORST

portland27

I always anticipate that I WON’T be able to use the toilet if it comes down to it. That’s why there are ones strategically placed along the trails or paths or road routes. I never like to actually take the time to use those ones either, but it’s better than running for 13.1 miles or 26.2 and really having to go to the bathroom.

I will say this: Sometimes I’m pleasantly surprised. In Portland, the photo above, there were only about 20 people in each line. We hardly had any wait, got in and out and made it our corral with about 10 minutes to spare. Those occasions are mostly rare, though.

Just know that sometimes, even with the best planning, you may not make it into one of those aqua-colored thrones.

SCOPE THE TOILET SITUATION OUT

This is likely how someone found this blog. A majority of the runners who do race reviews will mention something about the bathroom situation at the start or along the route. They’ll especially mention something if the situation isn’t very good. So I Google.

I also check Yelp.

I find that when the bathroom waiting or lack of portable toilets at a race is really bad, it ends up on Yelp. This is the race for Active.com race reviews too.

The second half marathon I ran was a smaller one, on a paved trail through San Jose. The organizers (a solid group) advertised bathrooms at specific points along the trail. Except those bathrooms weren’t there.

I knew I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The only bathroom I ever saw along the trail was one near the turnaround point. I used it really quickly because I knew there wouldn’t be any others on the way back.

Of course, when I got home the first thing I noticed was a negative review from a racer: “Bathrooms not as advertised” was essentially the jest of it.

REMEMBER THE GOLDEN RULE

The most important thing to note is that people won’t complain when the bathroom situation is good usually. You will hear about it when it’s bad, at least somewhere. With so many race organizations now on Facebook, one of the things I’ve seen people do is ask questions about what will be available come race morning.

Pose the question: Has anything changed from last year?

Good race organizers will accommodate and improve upon the previous year’s issues. And those are the races you end up doing again and again.

Jul 24

On privacy, protection and online identity

When I started this blog nearly two years ago, I had a grand plan to never reveal my name to anyone. My first post had a generic byline. The “user name” assigned to the main posting account was “… and she runs.”

I’m so original.

A couple months later, I changed it to “T.C.” I don’t think I mentioned anything personal, related to my life or my job, until about six months into the whole blogging thing.

Then I made a critical decision in terms of how much I would reveal on this blog. I decided that if I was going to write about my training, my personal life, my diet, my weight and everything else, I would do it by being completely transparent about who I was.

I’m writing about this because I had a lengthy Facebook discussion earlier this week with several other Sweat Pink ambassadors about this topic.

A lot of questions came up in the exchange.

How much should you reveal? Should you worry about your information getting into another person’s hands? When we publish blog posts, do we realize how people could read between the lines and find us?

For me the answers are a little more black and white than they are to some people.

I wrote my first newspaper column when I was 15. I wrote for newspapers for 10 years, my name, work phone number and email address were out for anyone who had a phone or Internet access to call me to do so. I also spent four years dealing with online trolls in website and social media communities. My husband once made the mistake of listing our home phone number, now disconnected, in the phone book. One of those commentors from the online community I managed actually once called me. At home.

Years before, when I graduated from college, a man approach me asking me if I was “the Tara Cuslidge” who wrote for the newspaper. As much as it was a little concerning, I never felt a need to protect myself. I wrote a column my first year of graduate school where I talked about everything from social topics to personal issues.

Transparency is the pinnacle of good journalism. It’s something I teach my students repeatedly every semester. It’s because of that I don’t hide behind a pseudonym on my blog.

But I’m not against it.

In fact, I specifically didn’t take my husband’s name professionally when I got married to protect him. He had the right to be a private individual even if I chose not to. It wasn’t until a paperwork mistake at the college I work at happened that anyone started using my full, married name on documents that find a way to the public eye. Only since I left my full-time journalism job have I started to retreat to a far less public role.

Would I reveal my name again if given the chance to start over? Probably not. But it’s hard to take it back once it’s out there. The Internet has a unforgiving memory. The cache is deep. I used to tell people who called and wanted stories removed from the website I worked on daily that “even if it goes away here, there’s no guarantee that it will disappear from the Internet.”

In the Facebook conversation, we talked about blurring photos, erasing bib numbers and other ways to protect yourself from online trolls or stalkers. Here are some of the things I took from our conversation:

RACING GIVES YOU AWAY

Do people online know your name? Do they know what event you ran in last weekend? Do they know in what vicinity you live in? It’s easy to do a search online where someone can put together all those details and, in some cases, figure out your last name. If you’ve Googled yourself lately, you know what comes up (even if it’s just your Athlinks.com results).

On that note, you should Google yourself. I know it’s cheesy and people feel weird about it, but it’s also a way to know if information that you don’t want online got there. I tell my students, once they start writing, to Google themselves once a month. For them it’s a safeguard against people stealing their content. But it’s a good habit to have.

DON’T FLASH THAT BIB TOO QUICKLY

I mentioned this today even though I’m guilty of it. I once got an email from a “husband of another racer.” It was only a couple months after I started blogging I wrote a race recap from the Nike Women’s Half Marathon. It is so crowded at the race, and always is, that I didn’t think anyone would recognize me. But I’d been blogging about it for a couple weeks. He sent a rather strange, kind of creepy email, about “seeing me” at the finish.

Yikes. And wow. I didn’t respond. It was too weird.

I’m guilty of posting numerous photos on social media sites of me still wearing my race bib. A word of advice: Don’t. It makes it THAT much more easy for someone who wants to find out who you are to do so.

I have noticed my husband doing some self cropping of me when I ask him to take post-race photos of me. He usually tries to only get my face, the medal and the top half of my torso. I never told him to do so, but I’m glad he does.

LIMIT YOUR DOMAIN INFORMATION

Screen Shot 2013-07-22 at 6.02.22 PM

While a private domain registration is usually a recommended ay to prevent anyone from finding out information about who you are and where you are, you can also update your domain information and exclude the important tidbits.

Mine has my name listed, which is already part of the copyright information at the bottom of each page, but I purposely put in “XXXX” for other information and switched up the information for my address. Anyone can search whois.com to find out who owns your domain, which will likely lead them to finding out more information.

Just make sure you change the contact information for all four areas of contact, not just one.

Or just pay the extra dough to have a private registration.

KEEP INFORMATION VAGUE

Again, I don’t necessarily follow this guideline. I do, however, protect a lot of information about other people. I don’t call the See Jane Run ladies by their full names. I don’t say a lot about my husband, outside of the fact that he is incredibly awesome. In fact, I’ve gotten used to NOT putting information about him on my blog.

You know where I live? Fine. It’s a city of 80,000. You know where I used to work? Good for you. That one isn’t hard, I was there for a collective 10 years. You looked up my RateMyProfessor.com profile? Then you know my students are my biggest fans. Whatever. But I’ve blocked out my direct address in several photos. I’ve chucked photos of my Garmin immediately after I PRed because you can see my information in my RoadID.

I don’t want you showing up on my doorstep, or finding me at a local store. If we run into each other at a race, that’s cool. But please don’t stalk me. I’m not that interesting.

GIVE FEW DETAILS ABOUT RACE PLANS

I list the races I’m participating in on my blog. It’s about community. I want people to say “oh hey, I’m running that race too!”

I don’t give details about where I am staying, who I am staying with, what I’m doing before the race or even when I’m going to the expo. Moreover, I don’t talk about the plans for my house when I’m gone. I don’t blog about certain details until after the fact. I’ve been told that my race preparations are all over the place. Some races that people assumed I’d travel for, I haven’t. Some that I should have stayed the night with before, I didn’t.

Notice again the vagueness?

TAKE POST PRECAUTIONS

A couple months ago, I posted an image that I had edited a name out of. My friend’s daughter made me an awesome poster at the Mermaid Run in Fremont, but she spelled out her entire name on it. I know my friend well enough to know she wouldn’t want a photo with her little girl’s name on the Internet.

When I color corrected it in Photoshop, the name was barely visible. Perfect.

But I also ask my friends if I can post photos of them. They know I have a blog. They also know if they run with me, they’re usually be part of it.

Let’s face it, photos like this would be kind of odd:

privacy3

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t post these photos if I had to blur my best friends out. But I literally ask for permission every time I take a photo now. Or, at least, I imply that it’s going on the blog. “I’m taking this for my blog,” I say. Sam, in particular, will usually tell me if I can’t post something. Jennie is a journalist. She knows the way I write for this blog. She gets it.

By the way, that Chico sweater is kind of a misdirection. I didn’t graduate or attend California State University, Chico. I was going to…but then my undergraduate institution gave me 24,000 reasons not to in the form of a nearly full-ride academic scholarship. The context of which is now you know I was an excellent high school student, graduating tied for something like 13th in my class. You know what? That information is available about me on the Internet as well. Back to the sweat shirt: I was glad when my then boyfriend, now husband decided to go to Chico State. Totally made the $50 sweatshirt he wouldn’t have never bought me worth it.

Also: If you search me on linked it, you likely know what school’s I attended and graduate from. See, there is so much information out there already.

IN FACT, THE “BLUR” TOOL IS GREAT AND SO ARE WATERMARKS

Especially if you want to blur out your friend’s faces or a bib number you don’t want the world to see.

privacy4

It’s easy to use. But I’m a big fan of finding more creative shots to use instead of making ridiculous Photoshop edits. A lot of bloggers also add watermarks to their photos. Just last month, a blogger’s images of her son were discovered on a blog about a fake child supposedly suffering from cancer. Just know that even if you have a watermark, your images will be taken by uncouth people.

When I worked at a newspaper we couldn’t stop the people taking our content. Sure, we ask them to take the images or video down, but sometimes, even after the warning, people would just come back and do it again. Anyone can do a screen capture. And a lot of people are very skilled with Photoshop and can remove watermarks.

I have images that were shared on Pinterest, which I have a button for. That’s fine. As a blogger, I accept that as a “cost of doing business” per se. But I’ve read that Katie at Runs for Cookies has actually had an advertisement for a weight-loss program use her “before” and “after” images. She was upset, if I recall the post correctly. I would be too.

DON’T POST YOUR RUN GPS STATS STARTING FROM YOUR HOME

This is the quickest way for someone to know where you live! It’s also one of the reasons I’ve stuck with DailyMile independently of Garmin Connect. I post my runs to the blog via a DailyMile widget. I don’t sync to Garmin.

  1. You don’t need to know my running routes exactly unless you’re my husband and I don’t come home.
  2. I don’t want someone “following” me on my run.
  3. When I run with friends, I don’t want their homes displayed.

That’s one of the reasons that when my friends and I started running together, we deliberately started our “path” nearly a half mile from one of our homes. The walk provided a good warm up and took us far enough way where people would be left guessing.

SCARY THOUGHT: PEOPLE CAN FIND OUT MORE ABOUT YOU

Contextual clues are everywhere. No matter how much you try to hide, you are likely going to slip at one point or another. I’ve actually seen this happen to even the most private bloggers. Just last week, I saw a blogger who usually goes by a pseudonym accidentally post a reply to a comment using her full real name.

Another blogger might put your name up on accident as well.

I once wrote a story that a man in the community I worked in didn’t agree with, for whatever reason. My tagline, the area displaying my phone number and email address, was left off the story. So the guy instead turned to the phone book. He called my grandmother. It freaked her out, especially because her address is listed next to her phone number in the phone book.

He called my grandmother. She gave him my work number. He then called me and told me how he called two other people listed in the phone book and found out that I was still a college student. It was “no wonder” I got it wrong. (For the record, the fact he disputed wasn’t wrong.)

In today’s Internet-driven society, there’s a likelihood that if you’ve ever participated in any sort of event, you’re on the Internet somewhere. We can protect ourselves all we want, but the issue remains. If someone wants to find you, they can definitely do so.

So be careful.

 

Jul 22

Passing on the #sweatpink love

pink

My running buddy’s daughter just got a new pair of shoes to get ready to go back to school in the late summer. She’s such a girly girl, always running around in pinks and purples. So I wasn’t surprised when her mom showed me her new shoes.

I just happened to be taking my running buddy a pair of Sweat Pink laces for her running shoes, part of my spreading of the #sweatpink love thanks to Fit Approach.

I didn’t even know the daughter had just purchased a new pair of pink-accented Nikes.

Kismet.

I handed a pair to the little girl. She was THRILLED to have pink shoelaces. She thought they were so much better than the white shoe laces who came with the shoes.

The laces were a little long, obviously since they are made for adult shoes. But she loved them in her new shoes. And she’s now ready to #sweatpink when she starts her new school year in mid August.

Jul 20

Bridging the gap to nowhere

hills1

I’ve written before about how I run in a very much “under construction” community. There are a lot of sidewalks that end with bright orange barriers. And streets that exist but haven’t been fully formed. There is also a bridge to nowhere.

At some point this bridge will cross over a main thoroughfare between the city I live in and the community I do most of my running in. But right now, it just kind of exists. In solitude.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at it, but it’s actually the steepest “hill” we have to run in the entire area.

Perfect for hill climbs.

My running buddy Sam and I set out to to two miles worth of climbs, or eight reps. The incline is gradual, but still an incline. We’d push up and then kind of let gravity take us back down. Each rep was about a quarter mile, so it worked out pretty evenly.

hills3

My Garmin was dead this morning. The result of me doing more indoor running, thanks to the bad air quality we’re seeing lately where I live, than outdoor running.

We would run to the fenced barrier at the top, because you aren’t allowed to cross the bridge at all, and then back down. To be fair, you aren’t really supposed to be on the bridge in general. Because it goes to nowhere. You can even see the “nowhere” in the shaded area of the map above.

The bridge just kind of stops dead on the other side.

We finished our reps pretty quickly. It took us maybe 30 minutes, with some breaks in between every couple hill climbs.

It accomplished a couple things. The first is that it conditions us to run up steeper hills, which we don’t have a lot of in our area. The second is that it gave us some “speed work” in addition to the long runs we both have in our schedules. I ran 10 on Friday because I wanted to do these hill repeats so bad.

That’s right. I REALLY wanted to do hill repeats. I’ve known for awhile that I need to add more speed work to my running. Hill training is kind of a nice way to add speed and strength.

hills2

Plus, I enjoyed some nice views from the vantage point (again, the highest in this specific community). This photo was taken on my last uphill, right before I made my way down.

The total moving time for the two miles was 19:53 for a 9:50 per mile pace. Again, we stopped for water every couple repeats, just because even at 7 a.m. it was already getting warm in the valley. Sam said we should do this every week.

I think the lights on the bridge to nowhere are on at night, so we may be able to repeat it in the evenings if we want. And it’s kind of nice that we make the bridge to nowhere into an actual bridge to somewhere for us.

Even better is that after two miles of hill repeats, my legs don’t feel nearly as bad as I thought they would. My incline treadmill training is working.

Jul 15

I #sweatpink! (Ramblings of a new Sweat Pink Ambassador)

sweatpink2

I received some incredibly exciting news last week that I wanted to share immediately, but I figured pink-shoelaces would do the talking for me.

I’m now a Sweat Pink Ambassador!

For the longest time I followed the Fit Approach website hoping to apply to become one of the company’s brand ambassadors. I was handed a pair of pink shoe about a year ago at a Bay Area event. It’s what led me to the website initially.

Fit Approach has an amazing philosophy.

The company’s “mission statement” is very similar to See Jane Run’s approach to running for all women.

It is:

“We believe that kicking ass is best done in pretty shoes. We’ve learned that real women sweat, and sweat hard. We know that assertiveness, strength, and ambition are the ultimate feminine qualities. We concede that sometimes it takes hours to get ready, but we’re also no strangers to just rolling out of bed and going. We’re convinced that we run faster in pink shoelaces. We believe in pushing ourselves, and we believe in giving ourselves a break, too. We’re all about the rush of endorphins and the thrill of the challenge. We’re all for looking great and feeling even better. We’re committed to finding our best fit, and making it stick.”

That philosophy completely fits me!

So when Fit Approached opened up applications again on the website, I jumped on a chance to apply. I filled out the application during the long holiday weekend.

I found out last week that I had been chosen as a Sweat Pink Ambassador!

I received an email with a TON of information from the company, including how to sign up for a couple accounts to connect with Sweat Pink Ambassadors.

Today, I received the pink shoe laces I get to hand out to fellow runners to continue to spread the #sweatpink love! I also received my tank top.

sweatpink1

I’m kind of in love! I’m going to take the bright orange laces out of my Nikes and add a pair of these pink laces pronto.

The best part is that I’m now connected to an amazing group of awesome women who share similar fitness goals. I’m being exposed to so many new blogs and philosophies.

I’m so excited that I decided to try on my new tank after my five-mile run (and shower) today.

sweatpink3

They say black is slimming, which is good because I feel like I’m carrying a tire around my stomach from a summer of working at home (I’ll be relieved to go back to teaching in exactly one month.)

I’m so fortunate that in the past couple months running has allowed me all these new opportunities and connections. I’m looking forward to spreading the #sweatpink love along with my #seejanerun love at my upcoming racing events!

Jul 13

You’re a runner when …

broken1

I had one of those “you know you’re a runner when” moments yesterday while my husband was stranded on the side of Interstate 80 above Colfax, more than 100 miles from our home in Tracy, an exburb of the San Francisco Bay Area.

Nevermind the fact that his 1998 Toyota Camry had likely climb its last hill, I was staring down a major sloped incline and all I could do was think about how instead of running out the door as quick as possible in my running clothes with sandals on, I should have grabbed my Nikes.

Well, I did grab my Nikes.

Just not the right ones.

broken4

Those are not my running shoes. And lucky for everyone who reads this blog, my black toenails aren’t showcased in this lovely photo.

My husband waited more than two hours for me to make the journey up to get him. I had to drop my freelance work after solving a particularly messy navigation issue with a more-complex-than-I’d-like CSS hack. I was about to celebrate when I noticed a call on my phone went straight to voicemail.

Then I had a text message from my husband that said: “Call me!”

1) My husband rarely leaves voicemail or calls twice to get me. 2) My husband doesn’t text often. I’m still not quite sure he knows how. He owns an old-school Samsung flip phone. We talk about moving him to a smart phone, which I’ve had for about five years now, but he never seems too motivated to do so. He just usually borrows my iPhone.

It’s with that knowledge that I present his poor, 1998 Camry.

He bought it five years ago. It’s his commuter car. He puts roughly 120 miles on it every work day (he works 9/80s, so he gets three-day weekends every other week from his engineering job in the Bay Area). He’s put 200,000 miles on it since he purchased it from a private owner.

We’ve known for awhile that it likely was on it’s last leg. But it was a good car and measured good gas mileage.

broken2

Photo editing note: I blurred the license plate. Because no one needs to see that.

It’s a little heartbreaking. Not a lot, though. He’s more heartbroken that he won’t get to go camping this weekend like he had planned. Instead, I had to bring him and all his camping equipment home, which barely fit in our Jeep. The car is being towed to my parents’ house in Stockton (closer to our AAA 100-mile tow coverage) and we’re going to decide what to do with it.

But it’s not going to hit the freeway again.

We bought our Jeep last fall when my Camaro started giving me problems (ever seen a V6 on fire? I had a moment, or twenty, with that car on the way back from the Bay Area after the Nike Women’s Half Marathon Expotique last year, smoke, losing power, all the things that make a person freak out, on the Altamont of all places).

We ended up getting the Camaro repaired for less than we thought it would be, so we decided to “garage it” and baby it a little more.

broken3

Unfortunately for me that means I’m turning over my Jeep keys to my husband for awhile. The Camaro, which gets amazing gas mileage for a 11-year-old sports car, can’t handle the extra miles. It would end up in the same position as the Toyota.

We’re looking for a used commuter car, but not quite in a rush to get one yet. I’ll be driving my Camaro again, which won’t be nearly as much as I was driving it before. My full-time job as a journalist meant that I was racking up mileage on my car every time I did an assignment.

Sure, we got paid for the gas, but the wear and tear on a car isn’t compensated. Now I drive to work and am there all day. I come. I go. That’s about it. I even walk to lunch because it’s pointless getting in my car to go somewhere.

My husband, while sad, did make sure to grab his Chico State license plate frame from the car. To me, that marks the point where you know your vehicle is really gone.

And I’m still regretting not bringing my running shoes to get in hill repeats. For real.

Jul 8

After the long weekend

Lots of new things, lots of changes and lots of moving forward hit today after the long weekend. These things happened in both my little running world and the running world abroad.

Here’s a couple updates/changes I noticed that took effect after the long weekend:

IFITINESS NO MORE?

changes1

I woke up this morning to a Facebook status update on my phone that I didn’t recognize as something I had previously “liked.” I looked at the profile and realized that iFtiness had changed it’s company name to Fitletic.

The website addresses the name change specifically:

“We believe that the name change better captures the company’s mission of providing premium ergonomically designed endurance accessories that allow fitness athletes to unleash their performance potential.”

I love, love, love my iFitness band. My first concern was that the company was no longer going to making these awesome products. I was especially worried because mine seems to be nearing replacement age. I was relieved when I saw that the bands were all still available on the website, just with a different name written in silver letters.

LUBRICATION NEEDED

My treadmill was starting to have an awful smell to it if my runs were getting a little long. On Saturday night, when I failed to run the color-run type 5K, I ran eight miles in the evening instead.

It wasn’t even warm but I started to smell something a little burnt.

I know my treadmill needs a new drive belt. I’m going to replace it once I get paid for my freelance work from the month of June. I’m actually hoping my husband can replace it for me. The “treadmill guy” from a couple years ago said he would only change $75 to come and service it if I already knew what was wrong with it.

But I also know my husband, the engineer, can probably tackle it as well.

That can wait, lubing it up couldn’t. I grabbed the kit I purchased awhile back from Amazon.com. I’m nearly out of the lube that came with it, but I poured it on and spent a good amount of time trying to work the “wand” in between the deck and the tread belt. It seems to work a little better now, but definitely still in need of a drive belt replacement.

RYAN HALL GOES SOLO, AGAIN

Runner’s World is reporting that marathoner Ryan Hall is now self-coached again, dropping an Italian coach he’s only been with for less than half at year.

The article says he’ll go back to “faith-based coaching.”

Every time I think I’m doing well in running, I remind myself that with coaching I could probably be so much better. Then I realize that even the best athletes don’t work well with coaches all the time. Would coaching work for me? I don’t know.

More power to Hall for striking it out on his own again.

STRIDEBOX TWEETS MADE ME ENVIOUS, THEN I GAVE IN

A month ago, I saw the StrideBox booth at an expo. I was tempted then, but I didn’t sign up because I wanted to know more about the service before committing.

In the past 24 hours, I’ve seen numerous tweets about how excited people are after receiving their July StrideBox. I looked at some of the images. This month’s box includes a water bottle, energy bars and hydration tablets. The water bottle alone would be worth the $15 in many cases.

I looked at some previous tweets and realized that other packages included some sort of “gear” item too. I was sold. Look at what the StrideBox has to offer:

StrideBox-Animation-Small

The animated gif is from StrideBox.com where runner’s came sign up for the $15 a month membership.

The boxes promise “stuff runners want.” After I signed up Ashley over at Rather Be Runnin’ also highly recommended it just a little bit ago on Twitter.

Since I signed up today, I won’t actually get my first StrideBox until August, according to the tweets responding to customers today. But I’m looking forward to it. And will definitely review it on the blog once I receive it.

CALIFORNIA WINS IN MARATHONS

In 2006 and 2007, I did out-of-state newspaper internships in Colorado and Texas. I actually looked to leave the state both summers because, as a California resident, I got in-state tuition at University of California, Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism. I figured that instead of competing against the other students who needed to be in the state to get in-state tuition that second year, I’d just expand my horizons.

Both years, when people asked me if I’d considered leaving California. I was so tempted in Texas. I loved the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex area. I probably had the best summer of my life in Dallas.

But I love California and it’s not just because I was born and raised here. California has a vast variety of climates and cities that make every part of it diverse.

So it’s not surprising that Runner’s World reported today that California has the most marathons with 61.

To think, I’ve only run four of those: California International Marathon (twice), Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego, San Luis Obispo Marathon and the San Francisco Marathon. I think I have a lot of groundwork to cover in this state before I start a 50-state quest.

Jul 7

Bowing out before the run

This is as far as my tutu and running gear got on Saturday. It’s where it all continues to sit today. Needless to say, if my tutu, race belt and water bottle didn’t make it out the door, neither did I.

Instead, I went back to sleep after realizing, nearly at the last minute when my friend was on the way to pick me up, that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go run on Saturday. I didn’t want to. The thought of doing so paralyzed me with fear.

Thanks anxiety. I appreciate it.

Or not. I actually hate your face. If you had a face, I mean. Than I’d hate it.

I won’t get started on “how it all went down” rather I’ll say this: It’s been about three months since my last panic attack. This one was minor in severity to the first one (otherwise known as the “big one” or “the incident”) last October. It wasn’t as quick as the one three months ago either.

Suffice it to say, my morning wasn’t fun. I woke up with a huge knot in my stomach that just wouldn’t go away. And it didn’t until I fell back asleep after my husband handed me some tissue and sent out the obligatory “Tara isn’t coming” text message.

Life. Sucks. Sometimes.

The good news is that people tell me it gets better. The better news is that this is the first time in three months I’ve even had something like this happen. That’s a win. Even if I didn’t feel that way yesterday, it truly is.

Saturday marked the first day anxiety has broken into my running in such a way. My last race was the San Francisco Marathon. And while I had moments of “why am I doing this?” and “I cannot do this today” I made it to the start line. To the midway point. And to the finish.

It was easy to diagnose the “trigger” for Saturday, which had nothing to do with running at all. I know it had nothing to go with running because I was able to hop on the treadmill later in the evening and run eight miles, no problem.

But I was smart to know my limit, to not push myself when uncomfortable. My husband kept trying to persuade me, to push me out the door with my friends, to tell me everything would be OK. I think deep down, though, he knew it was a lost battle from the moment I started to breathe heavy. He did what he could.

And I did what I knew had to be done: I laid myself back down. I bowed out before the run.

I knew the damaged I would do if I kept going. I knew what would happen if I got out the door and on the road, or even to the race. I knew it would be all bad. I knew once I lost my composure, I wouldn’t be able to get it back.

Part of learning to live with anxiety, and specifically without anxiety medication, is that I have to be the one to pull back for myself. I have to set my limits. I did that on Saturday, which meant there was no 5K. I want to be disappointed about missing what looked like a good time, but I’ve run too many races lately (and many since October) to know that I never felt this way before one.

Something was different. Something was wrong.

I listened to that gut instinct which I didn’t listen to last October, which led to that “more damage” down the road. Because my hope is that if it’s been three months since my last panic attack this time, it will be six months in between the next … or maybe they’ll stop all together.

I can cross my fingers and hope. But I can also recognize the signs early enough to stop it from happening all together, lean back, relax, breathe deep and remove myself from a situation, temporarily, before it gets too bad. Even if it means giving up a fun run.

Jul 5

Jumping on the color-covered bandwagon

color5

More than a year ago, I swore off the 5K distance. It’s not that I don’t have a love for 3.1 miles. I ran a lot of 5Ks in my training to run my first 10K in 2010. I nursed those 5Ks to that 10K finish, believe me. But I realized midday through 2012 there was no way I could run a fast 5K if all my training planes literally had my legs coming alive at mile five.

That’s part of the reason I have a love/hate relationship with the 10K. It’s actually more of a hate/hate relationship. I only run trail 10Ks now. Those are the only ones I feel “worth my time and effort.”

I sound like a pretentious runner. I’m really not. I just kind of gave up on the 5K and 10K being “my distance.”

And we all have a distance we claim as our own. For me, it’s the half marathon. Two years ago I never thought I’d say that. But in the past seven months, I’ve learned to master the 13.1 and make it my own.

So when my running buddies asked me to do a “color run” with them, I initially said no. Color runs are the new mud runs, you know. Everybody is doing them. But not me. No thanks.

I think my resistance lasted for about four weeks before my friend Sam sent me a Groupon deal for the July 6 “Run or Dye” event in San Francisco. It was at a really low price, one that might make me budge. Finally, I did. I actually opted to do a 5K color run over a six-hour endurance run. At least I’ll be done quickly, I told myself.

I’m not even sure what I’m getting myself into.

I’ve heard a mix of good and bad going into these runs. This one is untimed. I’m not even taking my Garmin. I am, however, taking an accessory that doesn’t usually make it into my running ensemble.

Yes. A tutu has been made.

It’s fitting that my June issue of Runner’s World magazine has a runner on the front getting splashed with corn starch-colors on all sides. It lists color-themed runs with zombie runs, foam runs and neon-light runs as a way to “have fun” for a 5K.

After months of serious racing (two marathons in a three-month period and a bunch of other distance races), I’m kind of looking forward to finding my fun again in a less serious run.

So I’ll be heading out Saturday morning with my running buddies and their children to San Francisco.

I had to buy a white shirt. Because I apparently don’t own any I can thrash. Though I’m told that the colors all wash off.

color3

I kind of find it ironic that it says “live love color” and “lasting color” on the shirt when I intend to make it very, very colorful. I also found a pair of hot pink tights to wear, though on second thought I’m not sure if I really will.

color2

I may not be digging the brightness on race morning.

I’ll also grab an older pair of my running shoes. I don’t plan on “running” this race at all. Instead, I plan on kind of slogging (slow+jogging=slogging) through it for fun.

Since this sort of race doesn’t put focus on the time, it will be easy to relax and slow down a little. The last time I didn’t focus on a race time was during a mud run a couple years ago. In that case, I couldn’t. I was stuck behind a line of people in a mud pit for about 20 minutes. My time for the 5K was somewhere around 54 minutes when I finished.

Less serious? Yes. Still difficult? Yes.

This run doesn’t include obstacles, which I’m actually rather thankful for. My core still hasn’t recovered since my January gallbladder removal. (It should be by now, but I’ve been really unmotivated to push myself in that area. I have even less motivation to bring my once-broken arm back to the form it was in, strength wise, when it broke.)

In any case, I’ll get to fulfill my only-recently discovered dream of wearing a tutu while I run. It’s not really a dream. I’ve just never figured it would be practical to do so. I mean, it will likely itch.

color4

Doesn’t it look so much prettier finished? Maybe not. I think it kind of looks like a 1980s wedding favor. Long live Tulle.

I’m actually kind of nervous about how this is all going to go. I think once you’ve towed the line at a couple marathons, running takes on a different feel. As in: Can I approach a race without that competitive need to beat myself?

color6

Or can I run a race with friends and not feel naked without my Garmin? Will I feel as if I still have a long way to go after I hit the three-mile mark?

I guess I’m going to find out.

Jul 4

A no-run holiday

hot

I woke up too late to get in a decent run (over four miles) today, so I just kind of said no to any distance. Instead, I decided that I’d burn off enough calories helping out with a baking/pie contest and walking around in the heat. It’s only 5:23 p.m. and I’m already exhausted…but we’re having friends over for dinner and fireworks.

I don’t think I’ve ever voluntarily gone for a run on July 4. It’s one of those holidays I tend to skip when it comes to putting on the running shoes and heading out the door.

For one, it’s really, really hot where I live (see photo). It’s also just not one of my “overindulgent” holidays. Not typically, at least. Today, I made a cake and a Smore treat from Pinterest, though. That may change.

I usually got a six to eight mile run for Thanksgiving. For longer holiday weekends, I try to fit my long run in on the actual holiday (which usually gives me my weekend, always nice). I don’t really consider holidays rest days.

Except for July 4.

Maybe it’s because it’s been mid-way through the week over the past couple years. Maybe it’s because I overbook myself.

Either way, there’s no run today. I have 11 miles down for the month already, so I’m fine with that.

Happy Independence Day!

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →