What Compels Me?

What compels you to reach
the top of the world?

Last night I finally convinced my husband to join the gym. He’s always hated gyms. And I don’t blame him. There is nothing worse than running in place staring at yourself in the mirror for an hour. Or facing off with a grunting brut huffing and puffing with weights that are way too heavy for him. My husband is in amazing shape and rides his road bike whenever he can. It comes naturally to him since he has been riding for almost 20 years. So why did he cave after all this time? Because he wants to get better at his racing. And he wants to win. To do that, he plans to start weight training to build strength and power in his legs.

We had a discussion as we were heading to the gym to sign his life away for a year. Does he really need to do this? Well, no. He isn’t going to be a professional racer. There is no one telling him he has to train. Just like I don’t have to spend an hour or two every day running, riding or lifting. Our lives are so busy even without that. You already know our commute eats two hours of our day. If we didn’t train, we would probably have a lot more time to take care of the other things on our ever growing to-do list. So, when I asked Dave, do you really need to do this? His response? Well yes, if I want to get better, then I do.

There is something that compels us. Each of us. To push ourselves beyond our limits. For some it’s with work, or raising a family, for others it’s working out or a hobby that we enjoy. Hopefully everyone finds something in their lives on which they always want to improve.

I was trying to figure out what compels me. The obvious thing is that I love testing myself and getting better. I’m my biggest competitor. I like to see that I’m making progress at something. It builds confidence that seeps into other aspects of my everyday life. But there is something more. I have always loved the outdoors and there are a lot of adventures that I want to attempt. When I see a mountain, I want to be on the top of it. When I see a trail, I want to hike it. When I see a ski slope, I want to ski it. But the only way to accomplish these dreams is to be fit. So part of this is to maintain a base level of fitness that enables me to enjoy all of these adventures without having to think twice.



The unreachable summit in Colorado.
Vengence will be mine!

About 18 months ago, I was visiting a friend in Colorado and he took me out to hike a 12,000ft mountain. And I couldn’t make it to the top. I still cringe when I think about it today. It is a combination of my competitive self and just a feeling of disappointment that I couldn’t say that I stood at the summit of that climb. I know I could make that peak today. And this year I look forward to when my same friend leads me to the top of a 14,000 foot mountain. I want the satisfaction of standing at the top of the world.

But what is it that truly compels me during my day to day training – to get to the top of that climb or cross the finish line of that run? Well, that’s a much more personal thing. It’s my mom. I have a mantra that I repeat in my head when I feel like I can’t push another step or pedal stroke. I don't think I've ever shared this with anyone. I repeat to myself: “My mom suffered through something far greater than this. She felt real pain. Don’t be a wimp Nicole. Livestrong.” And that makes me angry and it makes me determined. And so I draw upon her amazing strength and I carry on. I’d like to think that she is somewhere propelling me to success. But that is not my belief. Instead, I know that I am doing it from the inside. Perhaps it is that I have a little of her in me. And so being out there pushing myself beyond my limits makes me feel closer to her. She was a cancer fighter and this is my way of fighting back still.

My mom is with me when I am alone at the gym on a cold winter night and she is with me on the top of every mountain I climb. So if you ever see me finishing a sprint and leaving everything behind, or shedding tears on a bike collapsing at the top of a climb, know that I am being driven by one of the toughest people I’ve ever known. My mom is my secret weapon. She is what compels me.

What is it that pushes you to do better? Whether it is running, or writing, or cooking or raising your kids – everyone has an engine that drives them. Take some time to figure out what compels you. You may surprise yourself.



My mom has always been my secret weapon.













Training for Training

I’ve got spring fever already and winter isn’t even here yet. I don’t think that bodes well for hibernation season. I am already daydreaming ahead to our annual Memorial Day weeklong trip to Colorado, our trip (TBD) in July and the potential of a September marathon back in Colorado. But what looms directly ahead of me is a good four of five months of cold weather activities.

The root of my spring fever is most likely the unseasonably warm weather we have been having. I am getting used to these 75 degree days and sunshine-filled weekends. The radio weatherman keeps reminding us every morning that it is about 15 or 20 degrees warmer than average for this time of year. But I’m in denial. When seasonal weather returns in the next few days, I am in for a rude awakening.

It’s not just that I don’t like the cold (although that’s a big part of it) it’s that the daylight is in demand and there are no goals right in front of me, no races to train for in the immediate future, that will compel me to work out every day like I have been. I am going to have to rely on self discipline. Eek.

I began this whole life change almost a year ago. I had major surgery last September and had reached a point in my life when I was carrying my heaviest weight and was so badly out of shape that I just felt miserable. It was several years of compounded fatigue and lack of motivation. The successful surgery gave me a new lease on life. As soon as I recovered and had doctor’s orders that I could work out, I hit the gym. And I never stopped. I started working out 5 or 6 days a week and haven’t slowed down since. I also completely changed my eating habits (another blog for another day) and lost 40 pounds and a year later I’m in the best shape of my life.

Now we are approaching the time of year when I used to go into hibernation until the spring, but that’s not me anymore. I am now compelled by a greater motivation than swim suit season. But what is difficult is that I am facing the prospect of dragging myself to the gym every night in the dark for four months like I did last year. It’s slightly overwhelming. I have become so accustomed to “training” for something. But with my next race not until the half marathon in March, I need to focus on rebuilding my foundation of fitness and try not to over train myself in advance of a tough year of challenges ahead. I am just so used to adding an extra mile to my run every Sunday or an extra five miles to my ride every weekend that I have a problem with the concept of maintenance.

So I have decided to change my mindset as I approach the winter “off season.” I am going to look at the next few months as training to get ready for my training. I will start my half marathon prep in February. So in November, December and January I plan to focus on training my body for the tough year of training I have planned. If I approach it that way, I may just be able to sell it to myself. And I am also going to do what I can to diversify my activities as much as possible so I don’t burn out on the gym and I get as much outside time as possible.

Here is my plan right now.

Mondays: I’m signing up for a yoga class. I am really excited about it. I’ll report back on it next week.

Tuesdays: A short 3-5 mile run outside or (gulp) treadmill and weight training.

Wednesdays: A medium 5-7 mile run outside (if possible) or cardio workout at the gym.

Thursdays: A short 3-5 mile run outside or on treadmill and weight training.

Fridays: Off

Saturdays: Morning spin class at the gym or a ride outside if it is nice out.

Sundays: Long run outside (average 10 miles) if weather cooperates. Otherwise, sigh, gym.

On top of all of that, I think I may do a 20-minute circuit training video every morning. But I am NOT a morning person…so I will let you know if that ever pans out.

That is how I plan to train for training. Come February, I will focus specifically on besting myself at the March DC National Half Marathon. And after that, it will be time to focus on cycling for a few months as I gear up for some spring rides I want to conquer in Colorado.

I am interested to hear how you get through the winter months. Do you stay at a high level and compete, or do you take things more slowly and work on building your foundation for next year? Do you have tips on how to avoid spring fever and keep things fresh? I’d love to hear them and share with my readers. Have a great day out there.

20 Days and 20 Nights

I did some calculations in my head yesterday while sitting in D.C. traffic. Our commute is awful. Just how awful can be measured in direct proportion to the scowls on my husband’s face every morning and night. Because we work a few blocks away from each other, and metro is expensive and unpredictable – my husband and I drive in together every morning on the carpool lanes on Route 66. In the summer, it works out because we bring our bikes in the car and ride after work. My husband would ride to work in the morning more often, but there are no showers and there is no place for him to store his bike. So, we drive. 16 miles. Each way. Which is equal to, on average, one hour each way, at least. We get to work around 9(ish). On a good day I’m done by 6:30. On a normal day, I am done by 7. Then, when the days are longer we ride or I run. Which means, we don’t normally get home until about 9ish on many nights.

So here are my calculations:

On average, 2 hours a day commuting. 5 days a week = 10 hours a week.

That’s 40 hours a month. Multiply that by 12 months, that’s 480 hours.

Divide that by 24. That’s 20 days.

20 days and nights, on average, each year, sitting in our car commuting. Which got me thinking, if I had those 20 days back, what would I do with them?

Days 1-10 would be spent on vacation. Probably somewhere in Colorado. The days would be full of running, hiking, cycling and amazing views. That leaves me with 10 days. I’d probably use about two days catching up on things at home, laundry, grocery shopping, watching my DVR and movies. I’d spend a day looking through all of my vacation photo albums from the last two years and finally make the photo wall I have been planning. Day 14, I would probably get my hair done, spend the afternoon shopping, and then meet my husband for a date night at a fabulous restaurant we have always wanted to try. On Day 15, I would experiment with all sorts of new recipes and have friends over for a dinner party. For days 16 and 17, I’d ask my grandmother what she would like to do – and I would take her to those places, whatever they were. Day 18, I’d spend getting my act together for my team for next year’s Philadelphia Livestrong Challenge. Day 19 would be a long run with an afternoon spent curled up with a good book. And finally, on Day 20 – I’d conquer a 70-80 mile bike ride in rolling Virginia farm country with my husband. Somewhere new.

So next time, I see my husband’s face turn to a frown and I can feel my blood pressure start to boil as we inch along our commute, I will just close my eyes and visualize these activities. And each time one of us exclaims, “I can’t take this anymore,” I say we make a promise to plan one of these missed days for an upcoming weekend. Twenty days of commuting may be bad, but it’s a great excuse to make time to live.

Time Wounds All Heels

I’m realizing that the longer you run, the more likely it is that you get hurt in some way. Lately, I’ve been dealing with blisters. I got two nasty ones during my half marathon two weeks ago that really messed with my time. And the blisters came back this weekend during my 10-mile run. It was a great run at a 7:50 min/mile average but the last two miles were killer as my hot spots turned into full on blisters. I bought some new socks after that run, but I’m starting to believe my shoes may be the culprit. I think some experiments are in order to get to the bottom of this. If you have solutions, please send them my way.

                          

But I know that this is par for the course as I work toward longer and longer runs. This isn’t just a hobby any more, if I’m going to do this right and train for a marathon I am going to need to take care of myself and prevent injuries – if I slow down, how am I ever going to finish my 2011 bucket list? Part of this will come from reading and learning about the techniques of running. It’s more than just strapping on those shoes and going out for an hour+ run now. I will need to maximize my training time and not just dabble in tempo runs, and sprints, and pace runs – but really learn how to do them with some technique.

Life can follow the same formula. The longer you live, the more likely you are to get hurt, and the more important it is to learn an arsenal of techniques to manage the tough times. Everyone manages the pain differently. Look at me for example, I was out there running on recently recovered blisters stupidly wondering why they hurt so much again after a 10-mile run. I didn’t give enough time for them to heal. I stuck band-aids on them, but never fixed the root of the problem.

I spent some time this weekend helping my grandmother start the process of digging out of the family house. My grandfather died a little over a month ago and all of a sudden my grandmother is alone in the big house we all grew up in. My husband and I are only just beginning the process of helping her dig out from 30 years of memories. I spent a few hours sorting through a pile of clutter in what used to be my bedroom. At first it was easy – old clothes, old papers – all in either the donate or trash pile. No problem. But then as I started to dig deeper, certain things started to spark the hurt I hide. Mixed together in piles were old mementos from high school and college, with some of my mom’s clothes and even some things from when I was a baby. I dug through a bag and put my hand on my old blanket (pinky was its name) that I had not seen in years. I ran my hands over it and tears rushed out. I sat back and realized, that even though I dove into this project head on with trash bags and boxes ready to go, it wasn’t going to be that simple. The band-aids over my heart weren’t going to protect me from this. The wounds of my mom’s and grandfather’s passing have not yet had time to heal. Or maybe it’s that I’ve been moving forward too quickly that I haven’t made the time for it to heal.

Time can be an enemy but also a healer, if you let it. I wish it were as easy as running. Just read some books and learn some techniques to make it all better. I’m used to things in life that improve with practice and perseverance. That’s how I fix problems. But the wounds of life don’t always work that way.  Next week, I’ll revisit my old room with the same boxes and trash bags – but with thicker skin and an open heart ready to face the passage of time.

Born to Endure

Some people are born to run or born to ride. I am not a natural athlete. Like most people, I have to work hard at it. I’m not built like a runner or a cyclist. I don’t have lungs with incredible capacity. I don’t have hamstrings to write home about. What I do have is stubbornness. And a personality that is prone to addiction.

I am lucky that both my parents were athletic. My mom was an all-star athlete in school. At all of 5ft-nothing she was captain of her cheerleading squad, point guard on her basketball team and the girl to beat in field hockey. She wasn’t built like an athlete either, but she was smart and fast and all the other kids liked her. Later in life, she didn’t have time to work out. But she took me skiing and instilled in me a love of the outdoors by taking me on hikes. And she would go through phases at an athletic club a few days a week over the years. But really, I think she stayed in shape by always being stressed out, on the go, not eating right and climbing up and down the stairs of her office in 2-inch heels. She was a single mom and a professional working woman – burning calories just came with the job.

My father was definitely at athlete. Although, rumor has it he was a scrawny teenager when he met my mom. But then 30 years in the Marine Corps turned him into a bulky, running machine. When I visited him over the years at his various posts he was always in great shape and heading out for a run. We even bonded occasionally when I went through running phases in high school and college.

So I came from parents who had a history of athletics. But growing up, my mom never put me in any team sports (except for a one-year attempt at basketball in 6th grade) and didn’t push me to be athletic. I never thought that sports would be my thing, until I tried running track in high school. Then I was hooked. I loved running. And I was pretty good at it too. I mean, I wasn’t winning races. But I developed quickly and the coach seemed to think I had potential. He once told me that my calves and hamstrings were built for running. I never believed him, but maybe he was on to something.

I loved running, not because it was easy or came naturally to me, but because it was a constant challenge. A physical and intellectual challenge. It takes a lot of discipline to spend that much time alone with your own thoughts. As you push yourself harder and further, it’s a mind game. What will break first, my train of thought or my running form? For me it’s better when there are hills or heat or rain. I want to go out and suffer and sweat and face my thoughts of the day head on.  

It’s not easy for me to train for a half marathon. And it’s going to be next to impossible for me to train for a full marathon next year. But I am going to love the challenge. And the thought of possibly not succeeding is what is going to drive me across that finish line. I had a conversation with a colleague on the way out of work today. He has finished five or six marathons. He said, for him the first one was difficult to train for. But after the first, the training didn't daunt him anymore. I'm not sure if I will ever get to that place with running. Even if I end up running several marathons, I don't think it will ever get easier. But it might just compel me to search for a greater challenge.

The same thing goes for my cycling. I’m not a natural, but I love being out in the middle of nowhere on a bike. Throw me climbs and scorching sun, and I will carry on. My century ride is not going to come without pain, but it’s going to be so awesome to clock those miles.

I may not have been born to ride or born to run. But time and experience is teaching me that I’m born to endure. Whatever gets me across that line.

What gets you across the line? Are you a natural athlete? Are you pushing yourself because you have personal goals like beating times or losing weight? Are you an adrenaline junkie? Or are you just always looking for the next great challenge?

A Different Kind of Bucket List

Most people’s bucket lists are things to do before you kick it. I have a different kind of bucket list. At 31 years old, I have a list of things to do before we have our first child. All those things that people say they want to do before they have children but never do, I’m actually checking off my list. And a strange thing is happening. Instead of feeling sated by these pursuits, the more I do them, the more I want to do more and my list keeps growing. I’m happier with myself than I’ve ever been and, for now, I want to keep it this way.

Last year I did a lot of things that, at the time, felt like they might be last hoorahs for us. Cycling massive climbs in Colorado, including the Vail Pass and Lefthand Canyon outside of Boulder. Running two half marathons. And our 20-day trip around France following the Tour de France on our bikes, cycling up mountains in the Alps and the Pyrenees. I was actually able to cross “cycle to the top of Tourmalet” off my list. And now that I’ve done those things, am I ready to settle? No. My appetite has just been wetted for more. I’ve never been so fit and determined in my life. So, for the time being I plan to continue with the endurance sports and keep adding things to my bucket list. Maybe one day it will feel complete. But for now, this is what I want.

Here are the next things I plan to check off the list…

·         The DC National Half Marathon in March.

·         Dave is going to ride the Iron Horse Race in Durango, CO, Memorial Day Weekend.

·         I want to conquer the 80-mile Leadville Loop ride in CO in June that goes through the highest town in the United States.

·         My first century (100-mile ride) at the Philadelphia Livestrong Challenge in August.

·         My first full marathon in Boulder, CO in September.

·         Hike at least one 14er (a mountain in Colorado over 14,000 ft).

·         And tucked away in July is another trip that we’re already planning that I will share publically as it comes together.

This is my 2011 bucket list. (There’s not enough room to type my lifetime bucket list). What I don’t know yet is if this will fulfill me or only give me an appetite for more. Only time will tell. I will let you know a year from now.

What kinds of bucket lists do you have and what’s on them? I’d love to hear the things that you want to check off some day. Why not next year?



Me at the top of Tourmalet last July. I trained all summer to cross this off my list. Reaching the top was one of the highlights of my life. Is there something on your list that you've always wanted to check off?



Running in the Dark

Last night I finally realized that it no longer matters how early I can get out of work, it’s now the season of running in the dark. Sunshine runs will have to wait for the weekends. That’s okay; it’s the cold I mind, not the lack of light. And the cold is still holding at bay. It just means that I will have to change my habits a little bit. My routes, my clothes, what I carry with me. I may even have to breakdown and buy a shiny reflective something to wear.

There is something exhilarating though about running in the dark and not being able to see everything around you. The same thing happens to me when I run in the rain. I feel a sense of urgency to run faster. I also become more introspective and I focus on my running form instead of all of the people around me. It’s therapeutic.

Last night as I was running in the dark along the reflecting pool on the National Mall I fell deep into thought and the short 4-mile run just flew by. I ended up coming up with at least five or six blog topics (so you can rest assured that I will be around for at least a week.) And I realized that just like I couldn’t see where I was going on the path, I don’t have a clear sense yet of where this blog is going to take me. I’m not an expert on running or cycling, so I’m not going to give you tips on being a better or faster athlete. I’m not a weight loss guru, so I won’t set you up on a fool-proof diet plan. And I’m certainly not a life expert, although I have experienced a few things that have provided a different perspective than a typical 31-year-old woman.

I will discuss how I’m finding my way through my new love for endurance sport and share some things that I learn through training. And if all goes well, I’ll be taking you up a few mountains on two wheels and across the finish line of a marathon. I’m hoping that you give me the motivation to train through these dark, cold winter months and that in return, I share some entertaining thoughts along the way. I may not be able to see exactly where I’m going, but I do feel that same sense of exhilaration as when I dig in and run down the dark road.

For those of you who find it difficult to get out and run as the days are getting shorter – in the morning or at night. Here are a few reasons why it’s still worth it to get out there in the dark:

1.      It forces you to find new routes: For safety reasons, especially at night, you shouldn’t run the same route over and over again. And you need to find routes that are well-lit and well-traveled. This provides a good excuse to explore new places and find new routes for your repertoire.

2.      A good excuse to buy new running clothes: Have you ever looked at your workout closet and realized that most of your running outfits are black? I have. But that’s okay, I love having a reason to go to athletic clothing stores to buy bright things. And now I have to.

3.      Find a new running buddy: It’s a good idea to run with a friend when it’s dark, and a good opportunity to find a new running buddy to train with.

4.      Time with yourself: When it’s dark and there aren’t a lot of distractions out there, you tend to become more introspective when you run. It’s a great time to come up with the idea for the next great American novel (or blog?) and also concentrate on your running form.

5.      Motivation to sign up for a race: I don’t know about you, but I’m a goal oriented person. The best way to get me through the dark, cold running months is to have a race to train for. I’m already scouring the Web to find my next race. I’m thinking of the half marathon in DC in March – but I think I’ll need something on the calendar sooner. Any ideas?

See, running in the dark isn’t that bad after all. I hope to see you as a follower on here or outside on the roads!

My Own Two Feet

I blame all my best qualities on my mom. Blame is a carefully chosen word because my best qualities also have the tendency to run me ragged – drive, determination and refusal to sit still. I aligned myself with my mom so closely growing up, so her tragic death three years ago was a turning point. An upside down summersault. When your best friend, heroine, mentor dies you are left spinning without an instruction manual. I lost my sounding board. If I am her shadow, and she is not here to guide me, where do I look to shape my life as a young woman, in a new marriage, starting a career path and setting out in the world on my own two feet?

This blog is not about my mom, although in a way it is because it is about me. My musings will be about the things I do that make me who I am in a world that was suddenly left open to me for the making.

I am a woman, a wife, a granddaughter, a friend, an athlete and a public relations professional. I pretend to be an extrovert, but I don’t think I’m very good at it. I’m very close to my family, but I don’t have much of my own family left. I am thankful for the large family that I inherited from my husband.

I am a cancer advocate by passion and by trade. The disease stole my mom. When I picture cancer, I see a monster with sharp claws. My job is the armor I use to protect myself from the beast. It is also how I communicate with my mom. I think it’s my way of telling her that I’ll never stop fighting for her even though she’s dead and I couldn’t save her.

Losing my mom was a stumbling point. A hard sit down on the ground. It has taken me a long time to get back up. But over this last year, I have found a lot to strive for again. I feel closer to my husband; more comfortable with being an adult and not just a daughter; and more confident in my own abilities. I have fallen in love with traveling. With running. With road cycling. I’ve learned to channel my confidence into activities that make me feel complete and fulfilled. In the last 12 months I’ve lost 40 pounds, run two half marathons, cycled up mountains in the Rockies, the Alps and the Pyrenees. I’ve established myself in my career at a great cancer-fighting organization and have continued charity work in mom’s honor. And recently, I took care of my family as we helped my grandfather through sickness and to a peaceful death.

Have I become my mother? No. But I have channeled her amazing life and energy to help me find what makes me tick. And I’m happy again.

I plan to take this new me on many adventures in the coming year. More traveling, more runs, more rides, my first marathon, my first 100-mile bike ride and climbs up a few more mountains. The planning has already begun. And this time, I would like to invite you to come along for the ride. I’m not sure exactly where we’ll be going. But I do promise you that I will be taking the journey on my own two feet.