Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts

Friday, May 10, 2013

Guest post: The land, Lincoln

Greetings, folks. I have a very special post today. It's a guest one from my BFF and the first ever not penned by my husband. I hope you enjoy!


Hi! I’m Pattie (AKA “the Bestie”). Kim invited me to stop by and give her readers a race report as she has fielded several questions on my behalf from well-wishers. I would like to thank everyone for all the support! I think the race was wonderful and I am toying with the idea of doing it again next year.

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I’m sorry. I am getting ahead of myself. I feel like I owe you some background. Let me back up. I am 32 years old (yikes!) I have a two-year-old daughter (yikes!) and I live in the non-interesting state of Nebraska. While this was my first official half marathon, it is NOT the first I have registered. It is not even the Second. It is the THIRD. And fourth I’ve actually considered doing. It always seemed like something got in the way, though - whether it was motivation, family obligations or a grizzly dog bite. Maybe not grizzly but seriously, I was bit by a dog and it put a damper on my running for a while.

I still wanted to do a half marathon – for the sake on finally following through. So I found a local spring race was opening up registration soon and I decided to do it. And it is a good thing, I didn’t “think” about it. Because the Lincoln Marathon sold out in less than a day. Yep. ONE. DAY.

Half marathon registration = half marathon plan. Intimidated by words like "tempo" and "repeats," I opted for Hal Higdon’s “Novice 2” plan as it was simple but factored in my runsume of multiple 5ks, 10k, 5 miles and the half marathon relay. I printed it off and put in my refrigerator at home. I wrote it on my planner on my desk and I even inputed all the runs into the calendar on Window’s Outlook on my work computer. There was no way I was escaping the plan. Over the course of the next 12 weeks, I kept at it. I didn’t skip runs – I may have adjusted some to work with my schedule. But I ran every mile that was required, and I'm happy to report that I ran 220 miles in those 12 weeks.

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Going into my half, I wasn’t nervous about finishing. I knew I could cross the finish line. My #1 goal was not to walk. I read some not-so-nice comments on an online forum attached to a local newspaper about walkers at my event. I didn’t want to be a walker. I wanted to be a runner. My No. 2 goal was to finish in 2:20. I knew this would be tough as my usual pace is about 11:30 and as slow as 12:00. But I had just done a 10K two weeks prior with a time of 1:05. So in the back of my mind, I thought, I could do it.

Other things I was worrying about: the weather (rain was in for forecast); what to wear (I always seem to miss the boat on dressing appropriately and ether end up sweating bullets of freezing.); getting to the start/ parking (my hotel offered a shuttle service, but I didn’t find out until my check-in that the shuttle didn’t start until 9 a.m. on the weekend. And the race started at 7); and bodily functions (without fail I always have to stop for a bathroom break on my long runs).

And after all that worrying, Sunday ended up being perfect, slightly chilly but no rain. I drove myself and parked next to campus several blocks from the start. Then I texted my husband and told him where I was parked – as he and my daughter were going to cheer me on and then meet at the finish. I got my bag checked, used the bathroom (indoors) and wondered around the starting area. I found the 2:20 pace group and waited. The race started at 7. But I didn't start until closer to 7:40 - as I was towards the back and they were sending out waves of about 1,000 at a time.

As we kept moving closer to the starting line, my need to use the bathroom grew. I didn’t want to miss the start, so I told myself I would hold it and use a port a potty later.

 The race started on the Campus of the University of Nebraska Lincoln, went through downtown, past the Capital building, looping through some residential areas and ending back on the 50 yard line of Memorial Stadium.

When it was our turn to go, it was super exciting. I left the gate feeling good. So good, I even passed the pacers for 2:20. I think my need to pee, might have put a little more speed into me. I kept looking for portapotties and didn't see any. So I just kept running. In addition to looking for the John, I also was pulling and fussing with my running skirt more than I would like to admit. I hadn’t run in it for more than a year and am smaller than when I was purchased. I made it near to the 5K water stop and saw the port-a-pots. I stopped. I waited in line. I saw the 2:20 pacers go past. As I was waiting, I noticed someone to my right who looked familiar. It was my friend Gina. We quickly hugged and then it was my turn. I quickly emptied my bladder and got. I ran faster than before, trying to catch the 2:20 pacers. Fail. But I was able to adjust my skirt so it was no longer bothering me.

My husband, daughter and husband’s cousins were at the 5-mile mark. Which made me very happy and gave me a boost to keep moving. About a half mile later I took my fuel and had some water. I kept going. About this time the course went onto a narrow bike path and more people were walking. I was swerving in and out, passing people and getting mad that the walkers were not getting to the right. I crossed the 10K and was feeling good.

I didn’t have a watch or tracker going. So I was listening to people around me saying what their times were. Even though they might have left the gate at a different time than me, it was a gauge.

Between the 10 and 15K there was an uphill part. It seriously kicked my butt. The 4:50 (marathon) pace group got right behind me and it bummed me out. I knew that I was at least 5 minutes behind my goal. Plus they were annoying. I tried to run faster and get ahead of them. It worked for a while but then they eventually passed me and I didn't care as I was glad not to listen to them any longer. There was a water stop just past mile 10 and I walked a little longer than I normally do, but my legs were starting to feel it. After I started running again, I remembered that I had forgotten to take my fuel. So I jogged and tried to eat my chews as I went. It was pretty tricky but I got it done.

 My mom and dad were between miles 11 and 12. Seeing them made me happy and helped me find the strength I needed to make to the end. Just after I saw them, I was downtown and saw the stadium in the distance. I kept plowing along, passing walkers left and right.
 

I passed the full marathon turn-off and entered the stadium driveway. I saw the jumbo-tron and then myself on the Jumbotron. And I then entered the tunnel onto the field. At the time I was annoyed because it was so congested and there were some slow people all around me who didn’t understand the term “finish strong.” I wanted to finish as strong as possible. Three girls all held hands and crossed the field together, making a giant fence that I could not get around. I wanted to punch them. Each. (I get my aggression from hanging out with Kim too much).

Editor's note: Apparently she didn't get that much aggression from me because I would have cut the bitches. P.S. I know I shouldn't use such coarse language, especially in a guest post, but I'm very tired and have no social graces.

My official time was 2:29:22. Not quite what I wanted, but not terrible. My worst case scenario time was 2:35. In my fantasy world, had I not stopped for the bathroom I would have been about 2:25. So I will pretend that is my time. And I did not stop to walk (except for water but we all know that does not count).

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Looking ahead, I am toying with the idea of doing at least one more race this summer possibly a 10K. I am also thinking about using a training plan that will help me with my speed.

I loved my half experience and would love to run Lincoln again, maybe even next year. It wasn’t the most beautiful or scenic race (although my husband, a devout Nebraska Football fan and season ticket holder, will tell you Memorial Stadium, where we ended, is his idea of heaven) but it had wonderful crowds and wonderful staff. I do not think there was one stretch of the route that didn’t have spectators cheering us on.

So, in closing (which is the lamest closing line EVER) thank you for all your support and advice! Kim is lucky to have such awesome readers! <---- i="">I didn't even pay her to say this!

Sunday, January 6, 2013

The healthy alternative

Tis the time of year when pledges to eat smarter and move more are renewed, and women find themselves eyeing that non-fat, no-sugar, whole wheat, vegan, raw recipe to make for dinner. With great gusto, they prepare low-calorie meals aimed at helping them reach their goals.

But there are grumbles.

Grumbles from the kids. Grumbles from the husbands. Soon, the fight to eat healthy gets lost in the fight to get people to just eat. And shut up.

It is in that spirit that I asked Mark to write a guest post about what it's been like for him to eat with me as I went from obese to healthy and the many culinary side roads we've taken along the journey.

Take it away Mark ...

When of my fondest (read: scariest) memories of my dearly departed grandfather was when my sister and I would sit around the table with our whole family. We never did the whole “say grace” thing, but before we dug in, my grandfather would grit his (false) teeth and mutter, “Eat what you take, take what you eat.”

I get that now. It took me until my early (OK, mid now) 30s to grasp this and embrace his hardened-by-the-Great Depression outlook on eating. He was only trying to help us. Well, lo and behold, I marry a woman that embraces not that exact ethos, but Kim doesn't waste food. She doesn't mess around with alternate meals, and we don't let Miles eat “snacks” (read: chock full o' processed sugar cereal bars) before or during dinner. Kim makes a meal and if we don't like it, we're sort of on our own.

 And so I provide you with this meandering anecdote for a very good reason. Kim approached me about doing a guest spot on her blog about what it's like to be a skinny, not-so-eager-to diet kind of guy who is often offered healthier alternatives to his generally craptacular diet. I'm 1XX pounds soaking wet, so I don't exactly have to eat anything she makes for Miles and me. But gosh darn it, I'm here to report that what she makes .. .I can live with. Well, most of the time.

Case in point: Kimberly recently prepared my favorite dish, spaghetti and meatballs, with (gasp!) whole wheat pasta and turkey meatballs. I noticed both right away and immediately I weighed internal dialogue that I often have with myself. (I'm not crazy, seriously).

The following is an excerpt from any terribly cliched episode of “The Biggest Loser”:
Trainer Bob: “Look what's on the counter! Oh, wow! It's potato chips. Oh, wait. No, it's not. It's Ore Ida's imitation kettle chips. With half the saturated fat and a third of the calories, they'll help you snack your way right to the top of our scales with a big smile on your face!!!” (Insert cheesy, So-Cal whitened teeth flashing at the camera) 
OK, so even if I'm not Trainer Bob, there are some foods that even a ridiculously semi-fit, metabolically ludicrous guy can live with. Kim is generally never quite so blatant with her substitutions as she was when she rolled the dice with her spaghetti and meatballs concoction. She is quite the subtle one when it comes to substitutions.

Turkey sausage is one of Kim's favorites. With a slightly sweet flavor and texture that resembles pork sausage, the turkey variety is used with much gusto around here. Such favorites include turkey sausage and peppers, turkey burgers, and turkey goulash with a smidge of that darned Greek yogurt just to yank my chain. Turkey burgers are a perennial favorite in our house, and I always crack Kim up when she asks me for my suggestions for the upcoming week's menu.
Kim: So, what would you like for dinner this week? Any ideas?
Mark: Umm, I don't know. How about turkey burgers and fries?
Kim: We just had that two weeks ago. Wait, we have some in the deep freeze. OK. 
Another substitution that I think I tolerate just to appease her is wheat flour in her always tasty pancakes. Miles doesn't seem to mind the difference, and it's socially acceptable for him to just spit out what he doesn't like.

Oh, don't get me wrong, Kim makes a wicked wheat flour pancake. But doesn't it defeat the purpose when your humble author smothers wheat flour pancakes with butter and blueberry syrup from Cracker Barrel? I guess that's akin to ordering a Diet Coke with a #2 at McDonald's and deluding yourself that Diet Coke makes the choice better.

I'm really quite proud of the eater that I've become. Kim has transformed me into a guy that actually eats vegetables, Greek yogurt (well-masked) and yes, turkey meatballs. So, sometimes I ask myself why I choose to eat healthier alternatives, if I don't actually have to. I think it's because of two reasons: 1) However cliched it may sound, if it ain't broke, why fix it? The healthier alternative tastes good. Why change your technique when you've just qualified for the Boston Marathon? If it feels right, just do it. 2) I feel like I need to set a good example for my son. What will I say when someday Miles asks me, "Daddy, why do I have to eat this wheat pasta when you're eating regular?"

Now, if she can just get me to dive into that salad bar at Pizza Hut, Kim would be in business.