A river runs through it

The wind. The rain. It just doesn't seem to stop.

The basement is taking on water. Large sections of the greenway are closed. The streets have small rushing rivers on the berms as the sewers struggle to manage the incoming water.

And somewhere, in all of this, my motivation to run - to do anything, really - has been swept away like a piece of debris in the rapid. I struggle to get up with the alarm, this morning just turning it off before it could sound, and fighting myself every step of the way to get out of the door. In complete honesty, I'm not sure I would have run at all this week had it not been for Boston. Monday, I was swept in the excitement of the event and convinced myself that I couldn't not run on such a big day in our community. My outings Tuesday and Wednesday were in honor of those who couldn't run.

This morning, though, it took pure grit and a refusal to not meet the goals of my plan - and those for myself - to get me out on the road.

I dropped off Miles at my mother-in-law's house a smidge early, giving me enough time to log the easy 3-5 miles on my plan (I had my mind set on 5). I spent the first half-mile bemoaning the fact that it was going to be windy and my attire, while appropriate, was ridiculous for late April - short-sleeve tech shirt, arm warmers, windbreaker, capris and head band. But once I gave into the realities of the day, I settled into a rhythm and found myself amending my route to take in the views of the palacial homes that neighbor the park.

I did my best to keep an even pace when I could and reminded myself not to fight the wind as I am no match for 25 mph gusts. Twigs ... branches ... limbs were dodged, serving as constant reminders of such a tumultuous week. The river menacingly encroached on safe sections of my path, the currents of a usually calm body of water moving briskly. Yet I trucked along, reveling in how a beautiful run had risen from such misery - the conditions and my own internal demons.

Until I was stopped in my tracks. Quite literally.

I was less than a half-mile from the park exit and about a mile from my car when my feet first splashed through the waters on Park Drive. A few feet ahead, I noticed workers sandbagging the club house. We made eye contact, and I could see the guys chuckle. They started to paddle with their hands. And I looked forward. Up ahead, the safe area, was gushing with water. There was no way to tell how deep it was or how fast it was moving.

I stopped. I pondered. I could go through it, christening my new Brooks Ravennas, and run a mile in soggy socks. I could also backtrack and add 2 miles to my route. Neither option was particularly appealing but the workers strongly advised against running through the flooding.

And so I turned around, retracing my steps along the path. It was eerily empty. Quiet. I wondered why I hadn't noticed this earlier but resisted the urge to get frustrated. If anything, I was thankful to be in the shape I'm in and that 2 miles will not break me.

As I made my way back, I was struck by something else. The grass it was green - lusciously green - and much more vibrant than during last year's ridiculously dry, hot summer. Yellow daffodils created bright borders along manicured lawns. White blooms dotted the tips of dogwood trees. This world, it was alive.

And so was I. Despite everything around me - the news of the world, the rapidly incurring damage, the never-ending winter, an overwhelming sense that I'm in over my head with new endeavors - I was making it through. One step at a time.

Three Things Thursday: Another year

Geez - I can't get anything past you guys.

As the kind comments deduced, it was me turning 32 yesterday. Thirty-friggin-two. It's like the most unexciting number on the planet.

But, as it turned out, the day was the most exciting birthday I've had since I hugged trees along Court Street in Bowling Green, Ohio.

1. Even though Wednesday is typically a rest day, I knew I wanted to start the day with a run. There's just something about starting a new year on the right foot - literally. I opted to do the 6-mile negative split run on the schedule and set out in the dark of a temperate but humid morning. My legs were tired from a big week and were happy to take the first couple miles slow. I trucked along an unflooded part of the greenway that runs along a busy street. Head lights illuminated the quiet path and I fell into a slow rhythm with my steps, breath and thoughts. I spent many of the miles reflecting on that, year after year, I manage to start each one healthier and strong than the one before. It's an incredible gift to know that one is truly getting better with age.

2. Speaking of incredible gifts, my husband really outdid himself this year.

Mark usually requests a specific wish list from which he rarely deviates but he (and Miles) picked out this beautiful ensemble from the Loft. I'm really trying to adult-ify my wardrobe (aka not spend all my money on running gear) and, with a cute sweater, his selection will be perfect for the office.

The boys were also very amenable to my request for frozen yogurt. I'm remained sweetener-free the past three weeks with the exception of Clif Shot Bloks but couldn't resist the free cup from Menchie's. Miles was more than happy to share with me, and it was nice to get out on the big day.

3. The most surprising even of the day, though, came at lunch when I saw a text from my BFF.

I made the nuun Hood to Coast teams!

Hood to Coast is dubbed the mother of all relays, spanning nearly 200 miles from Mount Hood to Seaside, Ore. I am still in a state of shock and utter amazement that I was selected and get to participate. I wouldn't have applied if I didn't think I had a sliver of a chance but the women selected are amazing athletes, and I feel humbled and honored to be among them. The opportunity is fulfilling so many wishes and dreams - participating in a relay, visiting the Pacific Northwest and continuing to foster relationships with female runners - that I feel almost undeserving.

I look forward to meeting all of the women - check them out here - and running the event of a lifetime.

Don't forget to enter the birthday giveaway here - two awesome prizes!

Celebrate, err, good times: A giveaway

There's no great way to celebrate 32 - you know, if someone were to turn 32 years old.

A person could run 32 miles but that requires planning, training and time - lots of time. There's the option to run 32 kilometers but even that's more than 19 miles and requires endurance training and time. Throw a decimal in there and 3.2 miles is manageable but - meh - 3.2 miles. It'd be much more fun if you were 31 and wanted to PR a 5K.

Then there's the list-type celebration - 32 things to be grateful for, which by No. 31, would be that a toenail might make it to Wisconsin; or 32 things to accomplish this year but the person, not naming names, is usually just happy to have her teeth brushed before she leaves the house.

It can leave a person in quite the conundrum as she sips nuun and wonders whether birthdays are best for the 22K set. Or she could choose to celebrate with others by celebrating others.

And so it is with that in mind that I present you with the 3-2 birthday giveaway. There are three prizes for two people (six items total). This giveaway is provided by me, and the items are either unused "leftovers" from product reviews, things I've purchased or things I acquired at a phenomenally low rate with rebates. It is to celebrate you, the reader, for coming here and reading the words I spew.

So without further adieu, prize one:

A pair of Lock Laces, Nathan Sports TransWarmer Gloves (size medium) and SPIbelt. The items are each black, so it's like the Ninja of giveaways.

Prize two:

Vera Bradley tumbler, one tube of lemonade nuun and a $15 iTunes gift card.

I'm doing this is as a Rafflecopter, which makes it super easy, and I'm going to try to make this as effortless as possible. You know to celebrate you.

a Rafflecopter giveaway



Note: Open to U.S. residents only (as I'm paying for shipping). Giveaway will end at midnight Wednesday, April 24, and winners will be contacted via email. If you are picked first, your email will give you first dibs on the prize that you want.

Sleek, sexy and powerful

Let's talk about the things that are sore. My trapezius (upper, middle and lower). My lattisimus dorsi. My triceps. And, very locally, my gluteus maximus.

I'd like to say that I made significant gains in the amount of weight I am lifting in BODYPUMP or I finally made it to a box to try CrossFit. Rather, the source of my pain is two half-pound gloves.

And one pretty amazing day.

On Sunday, I took another step toward Make Shit Happen 2013 and attended Piloxing instructor training at a local YMCA.

Piloxing is new-ish to the group fitness scene - the company has only been certifying instructors for about two years - and there are about 3,000 instructors (as compared with 90,000 Les Mills instructors). Created by Viveca Jensen, the format combines is an interval class that combines the cardio benefits of boxing with the resistance benefits of Pilates - with a little dance thrown in to keep it fun.

I took my first class a year ago and instantly fell in love. It was a fun workout that had me dripping in sweat and my muscles burning. It was also low impact - a welcome change from running. I've dropped in here and there, as my schedule and training allowed, but admittedly fell off the Piloxing bandwagon when my workout buddy got hurt.

A few weeks ago, though, I had a run-free morning and decided to revisit the studio. The class was just as fun as I remembered, and I recall thinking during the jabs and plies that if there was an upcoming training session, I might have to think about getting certified. And, if by serendipity, I was chatting with the instructor (who is also a Piloxing master trainer) and she told me about this weekend's class.

The training is one day - an entire day - and includes a master class, discussions about the training principles of Piloxing, choreography review and form drills (for lack of a better phrase). I was initially worried about the choreography - I'm never going to be putting together Zumba dance numbers - but my fears were quickly put to rest when I learned that there is a set structure to the class and a set sequence of moves.

While it was a bit intense, it was such a powerful and empowering experience - much different than my BODYPUMP training. I spent the entire day soaking things in with an enormous smile on my face, feeling so lucky to not only be surrounded by an amazing group of women but to have come so far in my group fitness journey in just a year. 

I'm hoping with my certification (there's no test or extensive video process like BODYPUMP) that we'll be able to add it at the gym - I have a feeling my Tuesday night BODYPUMP ladies will love feeling sleek, sexy and powerful.

And, you never know where those feelings might take you ...

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Headlines are my job - writing them, re-writing them, making them. Dozens pass through my screen daily, and I can only imagine I've written thousands over my career. And so it is a rare occasion that one gives me pause. Stops me from reading the others. Causes tears to well in my eyes.

But yesterday, after I returned to work from a coffee meeting, I signed on to my computer and checked the Runner's World site to see whether there were interviews with Shalane Flanagan and Kara Goucher. Instead, I saw the horrific news about the explosions near the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

Words cannot express the feelings that washed over me and those that do come to mind are not ones that others have not uttered. To put them here, on this blog, seems so self-serving. Redundant. To write them makes me feel small in such a large event to which I have no real, tangible connection.

As humans, though, we crave that connection - to people, events, things. I've struggled to understand it as the chaos of news events affects me in a much different way. More work, longer meetings later hours. The immediacy necessary to act on the news forces any feelings aside. I've surmised that maybe it makes one feel less helpless in situations where things cannot be undone.

I suspect it's why runners banded together to wear and run in race shirts today. It's an idea that I'm still not so sure about - how it got started and why it went viral - because it seems almost random. But just as the story of the Boston Marathon has affected me in a way few others have, this show of solidarity began to resonate with me.

And so on this dreary, rainy day - a day where motivation was lacking - I slid on my shirt from the Columbus Marathon and ran till my heart beat out of my chest.

Inspire, the shirt says.

We may be small. We may be helpless. But we can inspire.

Babbling Brooks

I don't think I had ever been happier to see a glass of wine.

After spending a half-hour on the verge of a complete meltdown, panicking that I had lost $100 cash intended for a new pair of shoes - when in fact I had spent it on groceries - I needed something to bring me down. Get me in the spirit of things.

And by things I mean Ladies Night at Three Rivers Running Company.

The shop has hosted the event for a few years now - and I have been twice before - but Saturday was my first time attending the event in its year-old location, and I found it to be quite the night. The larger space allowed for tons of socializing, and the store was able to put out a spread of fruit and wine along with samples of chews and various nutrition bars. (The bars were at vendor-type tables with representatives from Shakeology and Advocare.)

There was also representatives from Girls on the Run, on-the-floor bra fittings and a fashion show, which featured this super cute Brooks shirt (color 955) that I just couldn't bring myself to buy. Extra skin + sheer fabric is not a match made in heaven.

As for me and Brooks shoes, that turned out to be another story. I've always considered myself to be a Nike girl, and I had intended to buy the updated Nike Structure Triax while I was there. The always knowledgeable Casey advised me that Nike had made some changes, and some customers weren't happy with the new feel. I had heard some rustling of this online and when the store didn't have the shoe in a 7.5, I took it as a sign to try for something new.

Seriously, if you live in Northeast Indiana, come here to buy shoes. They KNOW them.

I tried a style of Adidas that are similar to the Triax but even with some adjustment on the lacing, I found it to be too wide in the heel. As I jogged in my jeans - keeping it classy, folks, I tell ya - on the treadmill, I felt as if my heel was slipping out. No good. No good at al. There was another shoe, though. One that was a bit lighter. One that could work.

The Brooks Ravenna.

I've always wanted to wear Brooks (for no rational reason) but have never liked a pair that I tried on, resigning myself to the fact that I couldn't #runhappy. So it was with trepidation that I tried them on. But like Cinderella, once the beautiful purple shoe slid on my foot, I felt like a running princess. A princess who could take on a BQ.

Or another glass of wine.

And I did, wandering the store, hanging out with my friend Chris and chatting with the ladies. It was a lot of fun, a welcome surprise for going alone and on the verge of tears. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was all of the ladies who were so open and friendly, reaffirming my love for the running community.

What did you do this weekend? Any races?